A/N After a very long wait, I can finally present to you all the 5th part of "Felicia the Cheerleader". I'm sorry that it took almost a full month for me to write this, but I had things to deal with and I was distracted and I really kind of felt uninspired and bored for a bit, writing a paragraph at a time before I looked for something else to do. But now I'm back in the game (I hope, at least) bringing you what will hopefully be an excellent piece of tickle fiction and the best part of the series yet.
All the same disclaimers I whined and moaned about on Part 4 apply here. You know what? They apply to the whole series, so don't say I never warned you about all the stuff I warned you about.
For those who want to read Part 4, stop living in the past and move on!!!!!!! Kidding. Just click on this inexplicable piece of text highlighted in blue: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=63002
And now, the suffering of an innocent high school cheerleader continues in "Felicia the Cheerleader" Part 5, which begins right now:
Part 5 (MF/F, M/F, MFMF/F)
Part 5
“Aunt Helga! Aunt Helga!” Bobby and Ester ran right into their aunt’s arms.
“Ester! Happy Birthday, dear! And Bobby, my have you’ve grown,” replied Helga in a slight German accent that will not be replicated solely for the sake of preserving the author’s sanity.
Helga was Claudia’s older sister. They had both been infatuated with the S/M world since they were younger, and Helga had taught Claudia everything she needed to know. It was because of Helga that Claudia was able to open up one the most unique and successful BDSM clubs in America. Helga worked in the club, and though she didn’t own it, she was Head Mistress and outranked all the doms under Robert and Claudia’s employment. She was even given her own personal dungeon in the club, which although was the most expensive “attraction”, it was also the most intense for the subs that paid for her “services”. Those satisfied with the experience (and the masochists that paid to get tortured most definitely were) dubbed the room “Helga’s House of Pain” at times, though it was not an official title. Helga was an expert in all forms of torture and BDSM, moreso that her younger sister, although she didn’t have to be. She stood at a whopping 7 feet tall and was 215 pounds of pure muscle. She looked like a bodybuilder, and she was, though not professionally. She was not a Goth like her sister, and along with her skin having color, she had long, curly blonde hair tied in a ponytail to one side. She wore a jean jacket over a red tank top and black stretch pants and black boots. Her hands did not sport long fingernails like Claudia’s, but they were large and powerful, easily capable of causing pain and suffering to any victim. Though the rest of her family had American accents, she had a slight German accent in her voice from when she moved to Germany with her husband to further refine her BDSM skills in a continent that was more accepting of it (being German-American, she chose that country specifically to reside in).
Behind her, coming through the front door of the house, was her son Cletus. Though she was of German descent, as was Claudia, her husband was trailer trash and picked a name that would make their son sound like trailer trash (A/N I apologize to this time to anyone named Cletus. Don’t take it personally). Actually, Cletus wasn’t really HER son, he was born out of incest between her husband and his sister, but she didn’t care. Five years ago, she left her husband, took her son (or nephew, really, but she always considered him her son) and came back to America just as Claudia was opening up the club.
Cletus had long, dirty brown hair. He was tall, about 6’2”, and of average build. He was 25 years old now, but unfortunately being born out of incest left the poor guy mentally retarded. He never talked, not even to his own family members, but instead always walked around in complete silence. He had a creepy personality, always staring at someone out of the corner of his eye and slowly flashing an evil grin and licking his lips. That may have been his most unique feature. Many people who are born out of incest develop physical mutations such as having six fingers on each hand or something, but his genes had somehow given him a really long tongue. It was long enough to reach the bottom of his chin and the bridge of his nose (not simultaneously, of course). It was incredibly freaky, and it was definitely something that made people stare. At the moment, he was wearing a brown jacket, brown pants, and brown boots. Brown was his favorite color.
He flashed Ester “the look”, making her cringe as she hugged her aunt. Bobby saw it too, but he thought it was the coolest thing ever. The mentally stabile adults in the room were oblivious. “Helga, glad you can make it. Come in, come in. I’ve put up some coffee, and Robert is at the club. Cletus, how are you doing? Aren’t you looking handsome? I bet all the ladies can’t resist such a stud,” Claudia was saying, leading her guests into the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder at her children. “Alright, you two, off to school. You’re going to be late.” She sighed, slightly annoyed that her husband for not fulfilling his promise from last night and instead, letting her daughter oversleep while he left for the club. “Goodbye, kids,” said Helga, waving as her nephew and niece left the house.
The muscular dominatrix turned to the fat one. “Now, Claudia, you said you had something to talk to me about regarding a troublesome cheerleader at their school. Don’t tell me you want me to torture a high school girl.”
“Actually, Helga, it’s already been done. She’s downstairs right now, and no one else but us and Funny know about it.” “Funny!? You mean the clown!? Oh please, he couldn’t tickle someone if they walked up to him and put their foot in his face,” admonished Helga. Claudia laughed. “Well whatever the case, me, Robert, and the kids have been torturing her for days now.”
“Don’t tell me you need my help, Claudia. I thought I taught you better than that. This girl, a mere high school cheerleader, cannot be resisting torture from you. We both know their kind, they are obsessed with their looks and being popular and screwing football players. Their obsession with having attractive bodies has given them, as a result, weak bodies. I can’t believe you need my help!”
Claudia put a pot of coffee on the table along with the mugs, pouring a cup for herself, her sister, and her silent nephew. “Not “need”, Helga. “Want”. We’ve already broken this girl over and over again.”
Helga looked confused as she took Cletus’s cup and poured in milk so that he wouldn’t burn himself. “Wait, I’m confused. If you’ve broken her, if you’ve crushed her spirit, then why would you want my help? Seems like you’ve gotten things covered.”
“No, you see, this is no ordinary sub. She deserves extra treatment. Let me explain what she’s done to my children.” Helga listened, finding herself growing madder and madder as she listened to the untrue stories of Felicia’s alleged mistreatment of Ester and Bobby. Cletus, in the meantime, was lapping up coffee like a dog. When the story was over, Helga stood up, the only words coming out of her mouth being: “Where is the little bitch?”
“Downstairs,” replied Claudia. “Come on, let’s go.” With that, she started towards the basement door, Helga taking her son by the arm and dragging him. The basement dungeon was a familiar sight to Helga and Cletus. On the way, Helga asked, “What form of torture are you using primarily on this girl?”
“Tickle torture,” replied Claudia, smirking since she knew that her sister was a true master of administering the most intense tickle torture one could imagine.
Helga nodded. “Ah, too delicate for conventional torture? Or did you just not want to leave any marks on her body since all this involved illegal kidnapping?” “That and the fact that I’d like to drag out her torture for as long as possible.”
Walking down the stairs to the metal dungeon door, Helga asked, “About how tall is this girl?” “Oh, I’d say around 5……..sixish? Maybe 5’5”. She’s a scrawny little thing too, you know cheerleaders.” Felicia’s actual height and weight was 5’5” and 110 pounds. Helga laughed thinking about how fun this was going to be. Because of how extreme her tortures were, a certain height/weight/age limit was required to be able to enter her dungeon. Usually this meant large men or women that were at least in their twenties. The limit actually varied, but if a 5’5” 110 pound 18 year old girl ever tried to get in, she would have been rejected immediately. Such a small size and young age made one more susceptible to torture, including tickling, and she couldn’t wait to really make this little girl suffer in a way that no stuck-up, boy crazy, pompous, elitist high school cheerleader could ever imagine.
Inside the dungeon, Felicia was awake and sobbing quietly. Her stomach growled loudly, she was so hungry and she hadn’t eaten in days. She hadn’t been able to move a muscle in about 24 hours, though she had no idea what time it was and how long it had been since either her last bathroom break or she regained consciousness. She was freezing cold right now, and although she couldn’t see it in the pitch black dungeon, her bare nipples were pointy and hard. Most of her body was bare, save for a crumpled up mess of a shirt and bra resting on her collarbone and a cheerleading miniskirt. She wasn’t even wearing shoes since last night’s horrible ordeal, and her small, size 5 bare feet hung off the edge of the table, just waiting to be tortured. Goosebumps formed on her silky smooth arms and legs, her sensitive flesh reacting to the cold air. She was scared shitless right now, wondering what horrible torture the family would administer to her today. As the lights came on and the door opened, and Felicia saw this gigantic muscular woman, she nearly wet herself in fear. The woman who walked in with Claudia was easily the size of a basketball player, and she looked strong enough to kick the crap out of her entire high school’s football team. She was more than capable of breaking every bone in Felicia’s slender, fragile body. Another man was behind them, much younger. He wasn’t nearly as large as this woman, but he had a very sinister aura around him.
“Well well, so this is her?” asked Helga, as the three of them surrounded the tickle table. “She’s very cute. Very cute and very pretty. I hate girls who are cute and pretty.” She pounded her fist into the palm of her hand. “And I especially hate cute and pretty girls who make life miserable for my family.” Felicia felt her whole body begin to shake uncontrollably when Helga did this. “Oh God,” she thought. “She’s going to kill me. She’s going to beat me to a bloody pulp.”
“Yes, that’s her alright. Helga, Cletus, I want you to meet Felicia. Felicia the cheerleader. Felicia, I want you to meet my sister, Helga, and my nephew, Cletus. You will address them as “Mistress Helga” and “Master Cletus”, instructed Claudia. Felicia’s mouth hung open, quivering slightly, as she stared at the newcomers in cold terror. She already knew what they were here to do to her. Claudia continued speaking. “Helga taught me everything I know, and she is the top dominatrix at the club. She even has her own personal dungeon, which many patrons have dubbed ‘Helga’s House of Pain’.” Felicia began to hyperventilate, as she did not like what she was hearing at all. Seeing her distress, Claudia decided to rub the young girl’s fate in a little bit more. “Usually, we never let Helga have a crack out of someone your size and age, but for you, I think my dear sis can make an exception.”
“For my own sister, whom I taught every bondage and torture technique I know? How could I not?” said Helga. Felicia was too afraid to question how sisters could have different accents. Her next comment was directed at the young cheerleader. “Me and my Cletus will be happy to teach you a lesson in respect you’ll never forget. You know, I love my family very much, except for my ex-husband, and I can’t stand to see someone like you flaunt their looks and good fortune around while my niece and nephew suffer in silence, especially when you owe it all to them.” She ran a finger over Felicia’s tummy, causing the young girl to giggle. “I know all about how you took this uniform from Ester, and how you manipulated Bobby’s heart. And I can see how ticklish you are, my dear.” She stopped tickling Felicia’s bare belly and turned to Claudia. “Get her out of that uniform. There’s too much clothing on her to torture her. The little **** can lay there in her underwear.”
Felicia’s heart froze as she heard this. They were really going to torture her while she was wearing nothing but her bra and panties? A few days ago, she would’ve thought to herself, “They’re not really going to do that. It would be too cruel. I’d be almost totally exposed. Almost totally naked. I would have nothing on to prevent them from torturing me at all. No one would ever do that.” But by today, she had lost all hope, and she waited her horrible fate.
Claudia walked over to the light switches and unlocked Felicia’s restraints. The cheerleader put her shirt and bra back on properly as she sat up. She rubbed her wrists and ankles and, even though she knew these three people were watching her intently, she arched her back, the stretching of her stiff muscles. Her eyes were closed as she did this, reveling in her body’s ability to move and how wonderful it felt, but the sound of a very large fist smashing down on the table right next to her leg brought her back to reality. She looked up in fear at the owner of the fist, Helga. “You know,” said the blonde dominatrix, “I always hate it when girls like you move suggestively and erotically like that. You flaunt your looks because it’s the only thing you have in this world, and yet in life you make it ahead of good people like me and my family, who may not have the beauty but do have everything else. You and your kind sicken me, little girl. I’m having a hard time not smashing your pretty little face in right now.”
Felicia nearly fainted at the sight of an angry fist in her face, especially one that was actually as large as her face. She felt every muscle in her body tighten again, this time with fear rather than inactivity, and although she tried to move, she was paralyzed with fear.
“Now, get up off this table.” Felicia made no movement, her brain had suddenly ceased to function. “GET UP!” yelled Helga, startling Felicia’s brain enough to start working. The terror-stricken teen leaped to her feet. She really wished she hadn’t. The rocky floor, while not particularly jagged, wasn’t smooth either. The sudden jump hurt her bare feet. The floor was also cold and damp, and she could feel the dirty water on the bottom of her skin. Helga loomed over her, grabbing her by the collar and pushing her up against the wall. Felicia instinctively wrapped both her hands around Helga’s massive wrist, not realizing that her hands were too small to reach around all the way. Helga raised her other fist, ready to decapitate Felicia. Felicia’s eyes went wide, and she braced herself for the quick stinging feeling she would feel on her nose as her life was ended in an instant. “Now, where is your most ticklish spot?” demanded Helga, slowly but sternly. Felicia barely had the presence of mind to answer, as it took every ounce of strength to keep from wetting herself in fear. “My-my-my-my-my feet,” she stammered. Helga let go of her, and she sank to the damp floor, panting and crying as one hand grasped the collar of her shirt.
Helga reached down and gripped the bottom of her cheerleading shirt, using it to pull Felicia to her feet. “You don’t mind if we take this, do you?” she asked. Felicia, more terrified of the giant standing in front of her than she was of being trapped and tickled in this dungeon in her underwear, shook her head. Helga could have asked her anything and the poor girl would have agreed. If Felicia had a puppy, there was a good chance she would have let Helga kick it, she was so scared. Helga smiled, pulling the shirt over Felicia’s head, leaving the much smaller girl in a bra and a cheerleading skirt. The dominating hands reached this time for the waistline of Felicia’s miniskirt, slowly pulling that down. Felicia’s knees huddled together as this happened, her hands folded together nervously underneath her chin. She stepped out of her skirt, and was now wearing nothing but her bra and panties. She looked around, at the damp dungeon walls and the skulls on the walls with candles on them and the three terrifying figures lusting after her young flesh, and suddenly felt more exposed and vulnerable than she ever did in her 18 years on this planet we call Earth.
“Well doesn’t someone have a body to die for?” mocked Claudia, taking the uniform from Helga and turning towards the door. “I have some errands to run, and it’s going to take awhile, but the kids should be home from school at 3.” Smirking, she informed Felicia, “They just left for school, by the way. You have her the whole time, sis. You three have fun. Hmm, you know what? I think I’ll give this lovely uniform to my daughter.” She clicked the leftmost switch near the door, which suddenly clicked open. Seconds later, the door was closed, and the room had one less occupant.
Felicia was staring longingly at the door, at freedom, seemingly (but not actually) trying to decide whether or not to make a move for it. Helga put her hand on the girl’s shoulder, eliciting a nervous gasp, and decided to psyche her out, just for the sake of having fun.
“You know, sweetie, when my baby sis said ‘a body to die for’, she meant literally,” she said slowly, menacingly but playfully, a cruel sneer across her lips. Cletus stood at the head of the table, out of their vision, licking his lips with his unnaturally long tongue. “See those skulls on the wall?” Felicia nervously looked to the wall. “Those skulls are REAL,” lied Helga. “Usually when Claudia’s done with one of her tickle victims, she let’s me finish them up. I tickle them and I tickle them and I tickle them until they laugh themselves to death. Now, where on this wall shall we hang your skull, hmm?”
Of course, this was a complete and utter lie, but the naïve, terrified, mentally exhausted teenager, a girl who had watched and covered her eyes through more horror movies than anyone could possibly imagine, a girl who had for days endured constant tickle torture in a dungeon that she never would have imagined existed, believed every word of it. Tears welled up in her eyes as she dropped to her knees, not even noticing they were touching the dirty floor, and put her arms around her “executioner’s” legs. “Please, no! Don’t kill me! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear! Please, I didn’t mean to do all those terrible things to Bobby and Ester! I didn’t know, I swear! Please, oh God, please don’t kill me! I’ll do anything you want, just don’t kill me!”
“Ooh, she sounds so cute when she begs for her life,” commented Helga, reaching her hand towards the half-naked cheerleader. With a scream, Felicia dashed towards the door, the rocky floor hurting her feet despite the few steps she took. This caught Helga by surprise, who, startled, didn’t reach the girl until after she had unlocked and partially opened the door. It was the closest Felicia had come to freedom since she was first abducted on the street. All it took was one giant hand reaching around Felicia’s bicep, pulling her away with one swift, violent jerk which sent her to the floor next to the table, the rock floor sending a stinging pain directly into her left hipbone and side of her left knee. Still hanging on to her prisoner, Helga shut and locked the door before pulling Felicia to her feet with such strength that the teen thought she was going to hit the ceiling.
“Not a good idea, little girl. Not a good idea at all,” scolded Helga maliciously as Felicia struggled with all might to pull away, the strength of her tiny body not enough to escape the grip of the one mighty arm. The muscular woman grabbed the younger girl’s other arm and brought her right up to her rock hard chest, turning her around in the process. Cletus walked right up to Felicia until his face was less that a foot away from hers. His eyes stared maliciously into hers, cruel intent was written all over his face. He was giving her “the look”. “I think Cletus wants a taste of that cute body of yours while your still alive,” said the mentally handicapped man’s mother as his tongue reached all the way to the bridge of his nose. Felicia stared in shock. She had only seen monsters in scary movies do that. In one brief moment, her brain made sense of it all, that these people were not people at all, but demons that wanted to torture her. Her fear, exhausted brain, rapidly beating heart, and lungs that suddenly couldn’t seem to get enough air in them with each breath all teamed up on her, and she fainted in Helga’s arms.
Felicia awoke moments later to the feeling of something warm and wet sliding across her face. She screamed, trying to cover her face and get away when she realized it was Cletus’s tongue, but all she could do was attempt in vain to move her face out of the way of the 25 year-old’s slimy, disgusting tongue. While she was unconscious, they had put her back on the restraining table, and now she was lying with her arms straight above her head, unable to move. Metal clamps bolted her wrists, elbows, and ankles in place, which left her now-half-naked body fully exposed. Her only protection was a white cotton bra and a pair of white panties.
At his mother’s command, Cletus backed away from the prisoner, who, disgusted, strained to wipe her face on her arm. Helga stood over Felicia’s head. Smiling, she gently placed her hands on the girl’s cheeks, forcing her to look up at her torturer. “My, oh my, does Cletus like you a lot or what?” “W-w-what’s with his…..his…..?” “His tongue?” Helga finished Felicia’s question. “Who knows? I know nothing about biology and genetics and that stuff. I just know that that’s what happens when your parents commit incest. Oh don’t worry, technically I’m not the mother,” she assured Felicia when she saw her face cringe in disgust. “I guess I’m his aunt, though I always think of him as my son. That’s also why he doesn’t talk much. Wow, I haven’t actually heard him utter a sound in years. Isn’t that right sweetie?” Cletus just licked his lips as he paced around the table, not once taking his eyes off of Felicia’s feet.
“Ooh, you’re just going to be tickled to death when you hear what we have planned for you today,” continued Helga in a seemingly jovial mood that made Felicia shudder. She didn’t want to be “tickled to death” by anything, except maybe by not being tickled to death. “My boy just loves the taste of a woman’s skin, the smoother the better. Do you know what part of a woman’s body he likes the best? Do you?” Felicia did not give any sort of reply, as not only did she not know the answer, she also did not want to know the answer. Helga seemed to be almost glowing as she told Felicia the answer anyway.
“The soles of a woman’s feet.”
Less than a second later, Felicia found herself trying to power her way out of her restraints, something that Helga couldn’t even do. Adrenaline rushed through her body as the color rushed away from her face, and it gave her more strength than she ever had in her life. Unfortunately, this was not enough to break free, and therefore really wasn’t all that important and actually went unnoticed by everyone, even Felicia herself, who couldn’t bare the thought of Cletus’s (or anyone else’s) tongue running up and down her soles. This further reinforced Helga’s claim, in her mind, that they were going to literally tickle her to death.
“Now, you impudent little bitch, bend your toes backwards as far as you can,” ordered Helga, a “take no nonsense” tone evident in her deep, masculine voice. Felicia hesitated for a moment, then obeyed. She flexed her toes backward, her feet now as vulnerable as possible (since just being strapped to a table unable to move is just never enough). She cringed as Cletus knelt in front of her right foot. Helga came up behind her son, still addressing Felicia. “While my son is tasting your soles, you will not move your feet an inch. If you do, well…” her voice trailed off as her gaze slowly fell upon the skulls that covered the dungeon walls.
Cletus opened his mouth, his gross and disgusting long tongue slowly closing in with her right sole. Panicking, Felicia began to plead for her life, but it was all for naught. As that tongue made contact with her foot, she nearly jumped out of her skin, letting out a high pitched scream that even shocked the skilled dominatrix, who had in her years heard all types of feminine (and masculine) screams, shrieks, squeals, cries, yelps, laughter, and so forth.
Felicia reflexively scrunched her toes forward, prompting Helga to slam her mighty palm down on the table next to her head. “One….more….chance,” she told the ticklish young girl slowly and purposefully.
It began again. Cletus slowly, in order to maximize her fear and anticipation, brought his tongue closer and closer to her right sole. Felicia flexed back her toes, giving him more places to tickle. Her body tensed and tightened more than it ever had before. She had to be ready, she couldn’t let her concentration break for a moment. If she moved her feet just once, Helga would tickle her to DEATH. She had to be able to withstand the tickle torture of her feet, she just had to. She just had no idea how that was going to happen.
The tongue connected again to her sensitve skin, and a look of pure animal fear washed over her face. “OH GOD, OH GOD, OH GOD, OH GOD,” she consciously yelled as loud as she could over and over again in an attempt to focus her concentration on the screaming and flexing backwards of the toes rather than the tickling. Amazingly, her feet stayed more or less still, at least still enough to not warrant any interference from Helga. The long tongue glided over Felicia’s sole, circling up her arch and down her instep, leaving those areas coated with a layer of saliva. The girl’s back arched as she, beginning to lose her concentration, tried to focus her attention on that. After a minute of licking her right foot, her left foot became the next focus of Cletus’s “tender love and care”. The moist tongue tormented her hypersensitive soles, running up to the balls of her foot before descending down to her heel. Thankfully, her feet didn’t move, though she could see Helga standing over her, leering at her toes, just waiting for them to move so she could jump in. Cletus’s tongue even ran over the underside of her toes, prompting an “OH DEAR GOOOOOOOD” from Felicia just to keep in control.
After a total of 3 and a half minutes of the torture, Felicia couldn’t hang on any longer. Her toes curled and her feet bend inward and forward.
There was no breaks at all for her. Helga immediately jumped in, yelling, “Those feet of yours moved! It’s time to die, Little Miss Cheerleader USA!” Suddenly, Felicia could feel a rough pair of hands tickling her smooth and creamy underarms. She screamed bloody murder as her voice broke into laughter, her high-pitched feminine voice counteracting the lower, masculine laughter of her torturer. Helga laughed evilly, right in her face too. The relentless armpit torture was maddening, but nothing could possibly compare to that tongue on the bottom of her feet! It was worse than anything the rest of the family did to her, even worse than Ester’s tickling of her feet. Fingernails were one thing, but a tongue licking her soles was much worse. It wasn’t just the tickling, but that it was so gross and disgusting too (it was a TONGUE after all), and Cletus’s unnaturally long tongue covered a lot more surface area than a normal one would. A good lick covered the entire sole at once! There was no way Felicia could survive.
Felicia felt her lungs begin to ache as hysterical laughter and semi-coherent pleading escaped her lips. She tried to move even the slightest bit, but the metal straps prevented her from protecting her slim, sensitive young body. Helga’s fingers scratched at her armpits while Cletus’s tongue meticulously explored her soles and toes. He would either hold her feet perfectly still while licking her soles and balls, bend back her toes and tongue tickle them, or hold the foot he was licking with one hand and reach out with his other and tickle the heel of the other foot. This sent shockwaves all the way to her brain which caused her to shudder and squeal, her fists clenching tightly and her eyes squeezing shut. She was a Christian girl and believed in Hell, and the idea of this type of torture being administered in Satan’s fire pits suddenly wasn’t all that farfetched. Cletus alternated every few minutes between which foot he targeted while Helga’s tickling of her armpits never let up for a second. She wiggled her hands rapidly in the girl’s creamy pits, a pattern that although it didn’t offer much unpredictability, also didn’t offer many breaks or respite. She gasped for air between fits of laughter, but unfortunately those “breaks” were few and far between.
Felicia’s mind began to reel and the room began to spin. Silent laughter mixed with audible laughter. Her face turned red and her body glistened with sweat. Her throat was dry; she was dehydrated. But her tormentors didn’t care. She was tickled for hours on end. After a little under two hours, Helga focused her attention on Felicia’s sides. The exhausted teenage girl suddenly found herself squirming with slightly renewed vigor. The tickling of her sides was unbearable and was driving her crazy, yet somehow wasn’t half as bad as Cletus tongue tickling her toes. If there was a girl out there with more ticklish anything than Felicia’s feet, she felt truly sorry for this person.
After a couple hours, the stripped cheerleader was feeling very faint, dizzy, and exhausted. Even the silent laughter stopped. Instead she was just gasping for air and moaning softly. “Oh…..God”, she whispered meekly as Helga began to tickle the sides and bottoms of her chest. Drool ran down her cheek as she felt her eyes begin to grow heavy. Suddenly, at Helga’s command (which she was too out of it to even hear), the tickling stopped. Cletus straddled her thighs as Helga went to the bathroom to get a cup of water. She returned with a large cup of tap water which she held over the girl’s lips as she drank. A few minutes later and Felicia once again had a firm grasp on her consciousness.
“Please…….no more………No more, please,” begged Felicia, still gasping for air. Helga leaned over, cradling Felicia’s neck and gently stroking her cheek. “Oh please,” continued the cheerleader, “no more. I can’t take it. Please let me go home, I beg of you. Please!” Helga squeezed Felicia’s face (so that her mouth looked like a fish’s mouth), chuckling lightly. “You really are cute when you beg,” she said. “It’s ironic. You are a vain little girl who allowed yourself to become physically weak in order to be seen as beautiful, and yet while you’re kind poke fun at people like me, saying things like I’m a man, who is the inferior one now, hmm?” Felicia’s eyes meekly stared up at Helga. If they could speak, they would be saying “Don’t hurt me”.
Suddenly, Cletus leaned over, his long tongue scoring a bull’s eye on her belly button. Luckily, Felicia was strapped down, else she would have jumped right into the ceiling. He tongue tickled in and around her belly button, his fingers targeting her upper and inner thighs. Helga got up and moved over to her right side, ferociously kneading her right set of ribs. Felicia went hysterical, but at least it wasn’t as bad as when Cletus tickled her feet.
“OH, SWEET GOD!!!! OH NO-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, SOMEONE HEEEEEELP MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!” cried poor Felicia hysterically. Helga laughed. “Who’s help exactly are you calling for, you diseased little tramp? No one can hear you scream. Now toughen up and take this little tickle like a real woman.”
Helga’s fingers dug into her ribs, hurting her a bit. Felicia screamed for someone, anyone to come save her even though she knew that Helga was right. She was on her own.
That of course didn’t stop her from nearly shattering her torturers’ eardrums. “OHHH-HOHOHOHOHO G-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-A-A-AWD, MOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!”
The expression of Helga’s face was priceless. Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and her mouth went wide open with the largest smile to ever cross her face. The last time such a smile appeared on her was the last time she had seen her husband, shortly after the right hook that connected to his face. “Did you hear that!?” she asked Cletus, who was still preoccupied with Felicia’s stomach, his tongue finding it’s mark about an inch under her solar plexus. “She just called for her mommy! In all my years as a dom, I have never seen that before. I guess big, burly men don’t usually call for their mommies that often.” Moving her left hand over to Felicia’s left set of ribs, Helga taunted, “Aww does the little baby want her mommy? The little baby can’t stand a little tickle? What’s wrong, little baby? Can’t handle a little of this?” Her hands moved up, squeezing just below Felicia’s bra. The girl just shut her eyes and laughed, calling for her mother again, much to Helga’s delight.
Over a roughly 3 hour period, Felicia was tickled nonstop, and was only given periods where the intensity of the tickling was lowered so that she could breathe again. After an hour of teasing her stomach, Cletus’s tongue dived right into her belly button and stayed there for the next two hours, producing a tickling sensation so intense it made the God-fearing Christian girl want to commit suicide. His hands also moved up, tickling her waist, panty line, and hip bones. Helga had moved down to her right leg, focusing both hands on her calf muscles. At this point, the tickling had slowed down for almost 5 minutes, and Felicia was still quite out of breath and disheveled but her tickling was reduced to girlish giggles at the moment.
“Enjoying this?” inquired Helga. “Heeheehee, noooo,” replied Felicia. “Oh no?” retorted Helga. “Well then, I’m sure I can think of something you’ll REALLY enjoy. I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll stop tickling you and I’ll even leave the room if you agree to let Cletus lick your pussy for as long as he wants.”
Felicia’s head shot right off the table, her eyes going wide and her face showing an obvious look of terror and disgust despite the ear-to-ear grin it was sporting, mainly because of the tickling. Upon hearing this news, Cletus slowly lifted himself to an upright position, giving her “the look”, his grin not being produced by any tickling. But while the incest-produced man waited in glee for his chance at fresh teenage vagina, Felicia’s mind strained to process this new information. She couldn’t believe that she was even asked that. There was no way she was letting that…thing come anywhere near her pussy. No matter how intense the tickling became, or how long she was tickled, there was no way she was going to be violated by a giant tongue.
“So how about it?” prodded Helga.
“N-No! Ne-Never!” exclaimed Felica with a sudden burst of desperate courage.
“Never? Well it seems someone wasn’t being tickled as bad as we thought. Maybe we should really let her have it,” was Helga’s answer.
Felicia’s eyes went wide, her face twisted with fear. “No, please, NOOOOOOO-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!” she screamed as the tickling started up again in full force, beginning with Cletus resuming tongue tickling her belly button and Helga’s left hand tickling under Felicia’s right knee while her right hand continued to work over the calf.
“What about now? Do we have a deal yet?” asked Helga.
At this moment in the Universe’s history, two very startling and shocking events took place. One involved a solar system on the other side of the galaxy, where the positions of the 12 planets actually, somehow, formed what could have been argued to be peace sign. The other equally shocking event was Felicia’s response, “N-N-N-NEVER!” The reason this is so shocking is because anyone who knows Felicia would know that you could get her to do almost anything under the threat of tickle torture. Once she wanted to see a movie, but her friends wanted to go to a club instead. She was steadfast in her decision to see the movie, a sappy romantic chick flick, and would not budge. That is, until one of her friends snuck up behind her and ran their fingernails up and down her stomach. After leaping about 20 feet off the ground, she reluctantly, yet without hesitation, agreed to go to the club.
Unfortunately for Felicia, she was dealing with a professional dominatrix this time around, one who was considered one of the best yet most underrated doms ever, one who excelled in breaking strong, masculine men using only tickle torture. She didn’t stand a chance. Helga didn’t ask her again for another 20 minutes. Her hands were wrapped around Felicia’s right thigh, tickling her all over, from just underneath her panties until a few inches above the knee. She even got her just where her leg and buttcheek met.
“Will you let my son lick your pussy?”
Felicia caught herself just as she was about to concede to the disgusting request, making sure she got a good look at that tongue. It was way too long to be a human tongue, and there was saliva and slobber all over it. “No! Never! I won’t let him!”
“Alright then,” said Helga with an exasperated sigh. “I guess I’ll just tickle your feet until you do.”
Just the suggestion of a foot tickle changed everything for Felicia. In an instant, she came to the realization that while Cletus’s tongue in her pussy may be unbelievably gross, there was no way it could be any worse than having her feet tickled. That was just inhuman torture. Felicia responded to the suggestion, as calmly as she could muster, “OH GOD, ALRIGHT! HE COULD DO IT! HE COULD DO IT!”
A sadistic smirk spread across Helga’s mannish face. “I knew you’d see things my way,” she said, quickly running a finger down the sole of Felicia’s soft foot. The foot jerked, along with the rest of the girl’s body which came simultaneously with a feminine shriek.
Cletus got up off her and moved back a little bit so that he would be in perfect position to assault her innocent sex. Helga stroked Felicia’s face. “Well then, I’ll just leave you two alone. You two will get along nicely, I’m sure. Treat my son well, alright?” She turned to leave as Felicia called out, “No, wait! Please! Don’t leave me alone with him, I’m begging you!” Helga opened the door, turning towards the table before leaving. “All you ever do is beg. First you tormented my niece and nephew, and then YOU beg for mercy? Amazing. But don’t worry, I’m just going upstairs. Cletus, just come upstairs when you’re done, alright sweetie?” An affirmative nod from Cletus was Helga’s cue to skidoo, and with the clicking of the lock, Felicia was all alone in the room with Cletus.
The man’s raspy breath sounded demonic as fear hit Felicia like a strong slap across the face. Her lips trembled, her mouth hung partly open in fear, as a pair of hands slowly pulled down her panties, exposing her vulnerable vagina. Cletus marveled at the hairless wonder, which from his perspective seemed tight and untouched. And he was right.
Felicia felt her face grow hot. This was absolutely humiliating. No one had ever seen her vagina before, and she wanted the first boy to see her naked to be the first boy she truly loved, or at least liked enough to let him see her naked. But now, this creepy guy, possibly a demon or monster, would be the first person to see her naked vagina, and he would be licking it too! Her panties were now rolled up about mid-thigh. Her whole body tensed and her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation as that tongue slowly lowered herself towards her pussy. “Oh my God,” she whispered softly, clenching her fists and toes.
For a moment, it crossed her mind that maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe she may even like it. She’s seen porn before. Those women always seem to love getting their pussies licked. Maybe this would be a great experience for her. Boy was she wrong. Poor girl.
“OH SWEET MOTHER!!!!!!!!!!” she yelled before letting out a high-pitched scream that steadily morphed into silent laughter. Her whole body shook as Cletus’s tongue probed the sides of her groin area, just where her leg started. The tickling was something out of this world. Every nerve ending between her legs felt like they were on fire. She took in a deep breath and tried to hold it, but it came out a second later as a booming,
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Cletus’s tongue moved around the perimeter of the general groin area, focusing mainly just where her skin met the metal table. That was the worst part. It made her buttocks leap of the table every single time, only to find it had nowhere to go. Her most sensitive, private area was completely at his mercy, and he wasn’t planning on ceasing the terrible tongue tickle torture of her vagina anytime soon.
“This is a dream. It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, it’s just a dream. I wanna wake up, I wanna wake up, I wanna wake up, oh God I WANNA WAKE UUUPP!” Something was wrong. This wasn’t right, it couldn’t be happening. Stuff like this just didn’t happen in real life. The part of her brain that used past experience to make decisions and conclusions about the world around her told her that girls didn’t just get captured off the streets and tickle tortured, but then the nerves between her legs told her brain to shut the hell up.
Cletus’s tongue circled Felicia’s pussy lips, moving closer and closer. Felicia wiggled her buttocks around the few precious inches that she could, terrified of the results of that tongue making contact with her sex. “OH GOD!!!!” she screamed, startled as the long, slobbery tongue made contact with her outer pussy lips. Her ass lifted again an inch off the table, but was brought back down by Cletus’s hands. Now there was no possible place for her vagina to go, it was trapped in one spot while being mercilessly violated by a mentally disabled monster.
She endured his teasing tongue on her outer lips for another 8 minutes before the inner lips were targeted next. “NO! CLETUS, PLEASE NO!!!!” she shouted in pure horror, confidant his tongue was going to enter her. She was not prepared to handle that.
Laughter filled the room as the tongue teased and tickled her vagina. For over a half hour, Felicia was locked in a state of ticklish agony, humiliation, self-consciousness, disgust, and terror. Time slowed from a crawl to a seemingly dead stop. If you were to have asked her, she would have told you that that went on for 3-4 hours, not 30 minutes. Then suddenly, Felicia’s mind realized it had lost a battle it would continue to fight, for Cletus’s tongue did the most horrible, sadistic, inhuman thing possible.
It entered her.
Despite his origins, he wasn’t stupid. He knew what he was doing. His aim was accurate and true, his target an area where, if one could control it, one could hold power over even the most powerful, dominant, strong willed woman. An area which drives women to do certain things, with which anyone could control a woman. An area which was more sensitive that any other part of a woman’s body. His tongue began to torture this hypersensitive area, an area where no one but Felicia had ever explored before.
His tongue tortured her clitoris.
It was tough to explain the sensation that came over her. It wasn’t as powerful as when someone tickled her feet, but it was more intense. It didn’t tickle nearly as much, but yet she felt it more potently. It was an experience she couldn’t even describe, one she wished she would forget yet one that she never could. Shrill, insanity-gripped, bloodcurdling screams filled the air. But not the screams of someone getting tickled. They sounded more like someone being murdered. She literally sounded like she was being raped, and that really wasn’t far from the truth.
Felicia’s eyes were wide and filled with tears. She mouthed silent prayers to God for Cletus to stop, her mouth switching back and forth between being wide open and being curled into a ticklish smile. Prayers, moans, and laughter poured from her body like a river. Her fists clenched, her feet curled, her stomach sucked in and her chest expanded as her lungs filled with air. She felt no pleasure from this, even subconsciously. She just wanted this to end one way or another. For the first time in her life, death was not a repulsive option. Apparently, a tongue on your clitoris only feels good if you want it there in the first place (and if it doesn’t totally gross you the hell out).
Cletus just licked her clit over and over for an hour and a half as Felicia writhed in agony. She recited the prayer over and over, louder and louder each time, in hopes of both shifting her concentration on the prayer rather than the sexual torture, as well as divine intervention. While it started off as a whisper, it quickly came out somewhere between a normal voice and a scream. After that 90 minute period, Cletus removed his tongue from her pussy. He practically threw himself towards her face, giving her a kiss she would (unfortunately) never forget. She thought Bobby’s kiss was disgusting, but compared to Cletus, Bobby was Brad Pitt. His tongue slid down her throat, causing her eyes to water as she felt herself choking. He held her head in place, offering her no chance to escape. His tongue alternated between exploring her mouth, sliding down her throat, and licking her lips. She tried to scream for him to stop, but she could not manage to do so. All she wanted was for him to stop molesting her, for all of them to stop torturing her and leave her alone. She wanted to go home, she missed her family and friends. She wanted to eat, to be able to get up and walk around. But because of the delusions and lack of self-responsibility of two of her classmates, she was condemned to a life of misery, servitude, and tickle torture.
As Cletus was having his way with the high school student, the door opened. Helga entered the room behind Ester and Bobby, who just came home from the library which they went to after school. What Felicia didn’t know was that it was now 5 in the afternoon. Helga first started torturing her at 8 in the morning. And it wasn’t over yet.
Bobby and Cletus ogled over the half naked cheerleader, especially her bare pussy, while Ester glared at Felicia’s perfect girlish figure with scorn, contempt, and jealousy. Helga went to the bathroom to get some more water for their dehydrated prisoner. Felicia greedily lapped up the water from the cup like a dog as it was poured into her mouth. She was too exhausted to even hear Helga tell everybody that they would “entertain their guest” until Robert and Claudia returned home at 9 o’clock, or notice her panties get pulled up so that it properly covered her privates. She didn’t realize that more tickling was about to ensue until she felt it, startling the poor ticklee back into coherency.
Cletus’s tongue ran up and down her right foot, from the bottom of the heel to the tips of each toe. On her other foot, Ester’s fingernails ran wild. Her small, tender feet were vulnerable, and not a single inch was spared. Felicia was running on adrenaline now, being tickled to the point of passing out and then simultaneously being tickled back into consciousness. The tickling of her feet was sending her fragile mind running in circles. Meanwhile, Bobby began tickling her ribs, stomach, sides, waist, and hips while Helga focused her attack on Felicia’s legs, noting aloud about how easily she could break her “skinny little legs”.
Soon, Felicia was nothing but a giggling mass of sweat and tortured nerve endings. Her lungs and head were in agony, beyond just hurting a little bit. Helga and Bobby moved around, making sure that every part of her body, neck, armpits, breasts, ribs, sides, stomach, waist, panty line, hips, pussy, and legs, was mercilessly tortured. But none of it compared to the tickling of her feet, especially when Cletus’s tongue ran itself between her toes. To her, it wasn’t just a harmless tickle. It was a fate worse than death, the worst feeling she had ever experienced in her entire life.
At about a quarter after 8, Felicia couldn’t hold her bladder anymore. She relieved herself right on the table, physically feeling better (since holding in more urine than your body weight is really hard and uncomfortable), but also feeling more humiliated than she ever did in her whole life (since if you think being tied down and tickled is bad, you should do it while laying in a puddle of your own urine while everyone else laughs and jeers at you). It was only a few minutes before Robert and Claudia came back home at 9 PM did the cheerleader slip into blissful unconsciousness. After 13 straight hours of tickle torturing the girl, Helga and the others decided she had enough.
“You sure you don’t want to tickle her more tonight? All 6 of us?” asked Helga as she and her son prepared to leave. “We could really give that skinny little bitch Hell. You could even bring that clown back, or maybe some of the other patrons from the club and we could all have a ball.”
“No thanks, Sis, not tonight. Me and Robert had a long day at the club, and we’re really tired right now, Ester and Bobby have homework that they should have been doing, and plus I’d like to see my kids go to bed on time for once. But Felicia will be here next time you come back, I’m sure,” answered Claudia, embracing her older sister. “See you at the club tomorrow. Take care, Cletus. Bye.” She closed the door behind her sister and nephew, walking back into the living room and setting herself down next to her husband on the couch as he flipped through the TV. Then suddenly, like a slap in the face with a pair of brass knuckles, she got the idea of a lifetime. She told Robert about it later that night in bed, and he loved it. But they would need time, time to figure out who they could trust and to prepare the places they needed to work, as well as to give Felicia time to adjust to her new life so that the shock would be unspeakable when they changed everything for the worse. They thought the plans they originally had for the girl were cruel, but this brought things to new levels.
Felicia was fed the next morning, a rather large breakfast of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. It was the happiest moment of her life, and she greedily devoured all the food. She would be fed the same meal everyday in the morning and at night, as well as receive bathroom breaks at that time and a change of underwear when she couldn’t make it to the bathroom. Outside of that, she was held prisoner in that room for the next 2 months, being subject to the ticklish whims of the family, including Helga sometimes. She would lie on that table for hours on end trying to remember life before she was abducted. She would think of her family and spending time shopping with her mother or laughing at funny movies with her father. She remembered her friends and all the times they went clubbing, or hung out at the local pizza joint, or how they showed up at each other’s houses with big tubs of ice cream when one of them broke up with their boyfriends. She remembered all her friends from the cheerleading squad. Speaking of which, the next time Ester tickled her, she really rubbed it in by wearing Felicia’s uniform while she did it. This really hurt the real cheerleader, who loved both the uniform and the sport itself very much. Ester did not do the uniform justice, being too large for it and all. Her stomach and hips sagged over the skirt and her fat legs just did not look good, and the whole uniform was stretched to its breaking point. But Ester wore it with pride, deliberately rubbing it in how she was the cheerleader now as she mercilessly tickled Felicia to the point of wetting herself again, and then rubbing in how real cheerleaders don’t pee in their panties.
Outside, the police had basically given up the search for the missing girl. Her parents were still searching, but had also given up hope. Her friends were beyond distraught, and no amount of ice-cream-eating or teddy-bear-hugging could make them forget about their friend, who was now presumed dead.
But for two months, Felicia never left that dungeon. Except for the few minutes she was allowed to eat and shower, she was strapped to that table and tickle tortured without any sort of mercy or compassion. And then, exactly 60 days later, on the same day in which interstellar war broke out in a distant galaxy over a debate over whether or not one of its solar systems was actually in the shape of a peace sign, she woke up one morning to find that she was still securely bound. But it wasn’t to that table. She was hogtied, still in her bra and panties, and she was gagged and blindfolded. This was the first time in her experience she had been blindfolded, and coupled with the sudden change of bondage and the fact that the floor beneath her seemed to be rumbling, she broke out in a cold sweat. She heard Bobby’s voice to her left, and he told her that they were in the same soundproof van they used to abduct her in the first place. “But there’s good news. You’re going to get to see the club! And you’ll be staying there for an awfully looooooong time.”
End of Part 5
A/N Well I hope everyone's stomach dropped after reading that one! Please rate and review. I will hopefully have Part 6 up soon, sometime after I first start writing it. Hope you all enjoyed that. Until next time, uhh, I really don't know what to say. Drive safely?
By the way, I know being born out of incest would not actually give you a really long tongue in real life. I just made that up. Get over it.
All the same disclaimers I whined and moaned about on Part 4 apply here. You know what? They apply to the whole series, so don't say I never warned you about all the stuff I warned you about.
For those who want to read Part 4, stop living in the past and move on!!!!!!! Kidding. Just click on this inexplicable piece of text highlighted in blue: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=63002
And now, the suffering of an innocent high school cheerleader continues in "Felicia the Cheerleader" Part 5, which begins right now:
Part 5 (MF/F, M/F, MFMF/F)
Part 5
“Aunt Helga! Aunt Helga!” Bobby and Ester ran right into their aunt’s arms.
“Ester! Happy Birthday, dear! And Bobby, my have you’ve grown,” replied Helga in a slight German accent that will not be replicated solely for the sake of preserving the author’s sanity.
Helga was Claudia’s older sister. They had both been infatuated with the S/M world since they were younger, and Helga had taught Claudia everything she needed to know. It was because of Helga that Claudia was able to open up one the most unique and successful BDSM clubs in America. Helga worked in the club, and though she didn’t own it, she was Head Mistress and outranked all the doms under Robert and Claudia’s employment. She was even given her own personal dungeon in the club, which although was the most expensive “attraction”, it was also the most intense for the subs that paid for her “services”. Those satisfied with the experience (and the masochists that paid to get tortured most definitely were) dubbed the room “Helga’s House of Pain” at times, though it was not an official title. Helga was an expert in all forms of torture and BDSM, moreso that her younger sister, although she didn’t have to be. She stood at a whopping 7 feet tall and was 215 pounds of pure muscle. She looked like a bodybuilder, and she was, though not professionally. She was not a Goth like her sister, and along with her skin having color, she had long, curly blonde hair tied in a ponytail to one side. She wore a jean jacket over a red tank top and black stretch pants and black boots. Her hands did not sport long fingernails like Claudia’s, but they were large and powerful, easily capable of causing pain and suffering to any victim. Though the rest of her family had American accents, she had a slight German accent in her voice from when she moved to Germany with her husband to further refine her BDSM skills in a continent that was more accepting of it (being German-American, she chose that country specifically to reside in).
Behind her, coming through the front door of the house, was her son Cletus. Though she was of German descent, as was Claudia, her husband was trailer trash and picked a name that would make their son sound like trailer trash (A/N I apologize to this time to anyone named Cletus. Don’t take it personally). Actually, Cletus wasn’t really HER son, he was born out of incest between her husband and his sister, but she didn’t care. Five years ago, she left her husband, took her son (or nephew, really, but she always considered him her son) and came back to America just as Claudia was opening up the club.
Cletus had long, dirty brown hair. He was tall, about 6’2”, and of average build. He was 25 years old now, but unfortunately being born out of incest left the poor guy mentally retarded. He never talked, not even to his own family members, but instead always walked around in complete silence. He had a creepy personality, always staring at someone out of the corner of his eye and slowly flashing an evil grin and licking his lips. That may have been his most unique feature. Many people who are born out of incest develop physical mutations such as having six fingers on each hand or something, but his genes had somehow given him a really long tongue. It was long enough to reach the bottom of his chin and the bridge of his nose (not simultaneously, of course). It was incredibly freaky, and it was definitely something that made people stare. At the moment, he was wearing a brown jacket, brown pants, and brown boots. Brown was his favorite color.
He flashed Ester “the look”, making her cringe as she hugged her aunt. Bobby saw it too, but he thought it was the coolest thing ever. The mentally stabile adults in the room were oblivious. “Helga, glad you can make it. Come in, come in. I’ve put up some coffee, and Robert is at the club. Cletus, how are you doing? Aren’t you looking handsome? I bet all the ladies can’t resist such a stud,” Claudia was saying, leading her guests into the kitchen. She looked over her shoulder at her children. “Alright, you two, off to school. You’re going to be late.” She sighed, slightly annoyed that her husband for not fulfilling his promise from last night and instead, letting her daughter oversleep while he left for the club. “Goodbye, kids,” said Helga, waving as her nephew and niece left the house.
The muscular dominatrix turned to the fat one. “Now, Claudia, you said you had something to talk to me about regarding a troublesome cheerleader at their school. Don’t tell me you want me to torture a high school girl.”
“Actually, Helga, it’s already been done. She’s downstairs right now, and no one else but us and Funny know about it.” “Funny!? You mean the clown!? Oh please, he couldn’t tickle someone if they walked up to him and put their foot in his face,” admonished Helga. Claudia laughed. “Well whatever the case, me, Robert, and the kids have been torturing her for days now.”
“Don’t tell me you need my help, Claudia. I thought I taught you better than that. This girl, a mere high school cheerleader, cannot be resisting torture from you. We both know their kind, they are obsessed with their looks and being popular and screwing football players. Their obsession with having attractive bodies has given them, as a result, weak bodies. I can’t believe you need my help!”
Claudia put a pot of coffee on the table along with the mugs, pouring a cup for herself, her sister, and her silent nephew. “Not “need”, Helga. “Want”. We’ve already broken this girl over and over again.”
Helga looked confused as she took Cletus’s cup and poured in milk so that he wouldn’t burn himself. “Wait, I’m confused. If you’ve broken her, if you’ve crushed her spirit, then why would you want my help? Seems like you’ve gotten things covered.”
“No, you see, this is no ordinary sub. She deserves extra treatment. Let me explain what she’s done to my children.” Helga listened, finding herself growing madder and madder as she listened to the untrue stories of Felicia’s alleged mistreatment of Ester and Bobby. Cletus, in the meantime, was lapping up coffee like a dog. When the story was over, Helga stood up, the only words coming out of her mouth being: “Where is the little bitch?”
“Downstairs,” replied Claudia. “Come on, let’s go.” With that, she started towards the basement door, Helga taking her son by the arm and dragging him. The basement dungeon was a familiar sight to Helga and Cletus. On the way, Helga asked, “What form of torture are you using primarily on this girl?”
“Tickle torture,” replied Claudia, smirking since she knew that her sister was a true master of administering the most intense tickle torture one could imagine.
Helga nodded. “Ah, too delicate for conventional torture? Or did you just not want to leave any marks on her body since all this involved illegal kidnapping?” “That and the fact that I’d like to drag out her torture for as long as possible.”
Walking down the stairs to the metal dungeon door, Helga asked, “About how tall is this girl?” “Oh, I’d say around 5……..sixish? Maybe 5’5”. She’s a scrawny little thing too, you know cheerleaders.” Felicia’s actual height and weight was 5’5” and 110 pounds. Helga laughed thinking about how fun this was going to be. Because of how extreme her tortures were, a certain height/weight/age limit was required to be able to enter her dungeon. Usually this meant large men or women that were at least in their twenties. The limit actually varied, but if a 5’5” 110 pound 18 year old girl ever tried to get in, she would have been rejected immediately. Such a small size and young age made one more susceptible to torture, including tickling, and she couldn’t wait to really make this little girl suffer in a way that no stuck-up, boy crazy, pompous, elitist high school cheerleader could ever imagine.
Inside the dungeon, Felicia was awake and sobbing quietly. Her stomach growled loudly, she was so hungry and she hadn’t eaten in days. She hadn’t been able to move a muscle in about 24 hours, though she had no idea what time it was and how long it had been since either her last bathroom break or she regained consciousness. She was freezing cold right now, and although she couldn’t see it in the pitch black dungeon, her bare nipples were pointy and hard. Most of her body was bare, save for a crumpled up mess of a shirt and bra resting on her collarbone and a cheerleading miniskirt. She wasn’t even wearing shoes since last night’s horrible ordeal, and her small, size 5 bare feet hung off the edge of the table, just waiting to be tortured. Goosebumps formed on her silky smooth arms and legs, her sensitive flesh reacting to the cold air. She was scared shitless right now, wondering what horrible torture the family would administer to her today. As the lights came on and the door opened, and Felicia saw this gigantic muscular woman, she nearly wet herself in fear. The woman who walked in with Claudia was easily the size of a basketball player, and she looked strong enough to kick the crap out of her entire high school’s football team. She was more than capable of breaking every bone in Felicia’s slender, fragile body. Another man was behind them, much younger. He wasn’t nearly as large as this woman, but he had a very sinister aura around him.
“Well well, so this is her?” asked Helga, as the three of them surrounded the tickle table. “She’s very cute. Very cute and very pretty. I hate girls who are cute and pretty.” She pounded her fist into the palm of her hand. “And I especially hate cute and pretty girls who make life miserable for my family.” Felicia felt her whole body begin to shake uncontrollably when Helga did this. “Oh God,” she thought. “She’s going to kill me. She’s going to beat me to a bloody pulp.”
“Yes, that’s her alright. Helga, Cletus, I want you to meet Felicia. Felicia the cheerleader. Felicia, I want you to meet my sister, Helga, and my nephew, Cletus. You will address them as “Mistress Helga” and “Master Cletus”, instructed Claudia. Felicia’s mouth hung open, quivering slightly, as she stared at the newcomers in cold terror. She already knew what they were here to do to her. Claudia continued speaking. “Helga taught me everything I know, and she is the top dominatrix at the club. She even has her own personal dungeon, which many patrons have dubbed ‘Helga’s House of Pain’.” Felicia began to hyperventilate, as she did not like what she was hearing at all. Seeing her distress, Claudia decided to rub the young girl’s fate in a little bit more. “Usually, we never let Helga have a crack out of someone your size and age, but for you, I think my dear sis can make an exception.”
“For my own sister, whom I taught every bondage and torture technique I know? How could I not?” said Helga. Felicia was too afraid to question how sisters could have different accents. Her next comment was directed at the young cheerleader. “Me and my Cletus will be happy to teach you a lesson in respect you’ll never forget. You know, I love my family very much, except for my ex-husband, and I can’t stand to see someone like you flaunt their looks and good fortune around while my niece and nephew suffer in silence, especially when you owe it all to them.” She ran a finger over Felicia’s tummy, causing the young girl to giggle. “I know all about how you took this uniform from Ester, and how you manipulated Bobby’s heart. And I can see how ticklish you are, my dear.” She stopped tickling Felicia’s bare belly and turned to Claudia. “Get her out of that uniform. There’s too much clothing on her to torture her. The little **** can lay there in her underwear.”
Felicia’s heart froze as she heard this. They were really going to torture her while she was wearing nothing but her bra and panties? A few days ago, she would’ve thought to herself, “They’re not really going to do that. It would be too cruel. I’d be almost totally exposed. Almost totally naked. I would have nothing on to prevent them from torturing me at all. No one would ever do that.” But by today, she had lost all hope, and she waited her horrible fate.
Claudia walked over to the light switches and unlocked Felicia’s restraints. The cheerleader put her shirt and bra back on properly as she sat up. She rubbed her wrists and ankles and, even though she knew these three people were watching her intently, she arched her back, the stretching of her stiff muscles. Her eyes were closed as she did this, reveling in her body’s ability to move and how wonderful it felt, but the sound of a very large fist smashing down on the table right next to her leg brought her back to reality. She looked up in fear at the owner of the fist, Helga. “You know,” said the blonde dominatrix, “I always hate it when girls like you move suggestively and erotically like that. You flaunt your looks because it’s the only thing you have in this world, and yet in life you make it ahead of good people like me and my family, who may not have the beauty but do have everything else. You and your kind sicken me, little girl. I’m having a hard time not smashing your pretty little face in right now.”
Felicia nearly fainted at the sight of an angry fist in her face, especially one that was actually as large as her face. She felt every muscle in her body tighten again, this time with fear rather than inactivity, and although she tried to move, she was paralyzed with fear.
“Now, get up off this table.” Felicia made no movement, her brain had suddenly ceased to function. “GET UP!” yelled Helga, startling Felicia’s brain enough to start working. The terror-stricken teen leaped to her feet. She really wished she hadn’t. The rocky floor, while not particularly jagged, wasn’t smooth either. The sudden jump hurt her bare feet. The floor was also cold and damp, and she could feel the dirty water on the bottom of her skin. Helga loomed over her, grabbing her by the collar and pushing her up against the wall. Felicia instinctively wrapped both her hands around Helga’s massive wrist, not realizing that her hands were too small to reach around all the way. Helga raised her other fist, ready to decapitate Felicia. Felicia’s eyes went wide, and she braced herself for the quick stinging feeling she would feel on her nose as her life was ended in an instant. “Now, where is your most ticklish spot?” demanded Helga, slowly but sternly. Felicia barely had the presence of mind to answer, as it took every ounce of strength to keep from wetting herself in fear. “My-my-my-my-my feet,” she stammered. Helga let go of her, and she sank to the damp floor, panting and crying as one hand grasped the collar of her shirt.
Helga reached down and gripped the bottom of her cheerleading shirt, using it to pull Felicia to her feet. “You don’t mind if we take this, do you?” she asked. Felicia, more terrified of the giant standing in front of her than she was of being trapped and tickled in this dungeon in her underwear, shook her head. Helga could have asked her anything and the poor girl would have agreed. If Felicia had a puppy, there was a good chance she would have let Helga kick it, she was so scared. Helga smiled, pulling the shirt over Felicia’s head, leaving the much smaller girl in a bra and a cheerleading skirt. The dominating hands reached this time for the waistline of Felicia’s miniskirt, slowly pulling that down. Felicia’s knees huddled together as this happened, her hands folded together nervously underneath her chin. She stepped out of her skirt, and was now wearing nothing but her bra and panties. She looked around, at the damp dungeon walls and the skulls on the walls with candles on them and the three terrifying figures lusting after her young flesh, and suddenly felt more exposed and vulnerable than she ever did in her 18 years on this planet we call Earth.
“Well doesn’t someone have a body to die for?” mocked Claudia, taking the uniform from Helga and turning towards the door. “I have some errands to run, and it’s going to take awhile, but the kids should be home from school at 3.” Smirking, she informed Felicia, “They just left for school, by the way. You have her the whole time, sis. You three have fun. Hmm, you know what? I think I’ll give this lovely uniform to my daughter.” She clicked the leftmost switch near the door, which suddenly clicked open. Seconds later, the door was closed, and the room had one less occupant.
Felicia was staring longingly at the door, at freedom, seemingly (but not actually) trying to decide whether or not to make a move for it. Helga put her hand on the girl’s shoulder, eliciting a nervous gasp, and decided to psyche her out, just for the sake of having fun.
“You know, sweetie, when my baby sis said ‘a body to die for’, she meant literally,” she said slowly, menacingly but playfully, a cruel sneer across her lips. Cletus stood at the head of the table, out of their vision, licking his lips with his unnaturally long tongue. “See those skulls on the wall?” Felicia nervously looked to the wall. “Those skulls are REAL,” lied Helga. “Usually when Claudia’s done with one of her tickle victims, she let’s me finish them up. I tickle them and I tickle them and I tickle them until they laugh themselves to death. Now, where on this wall shall we hang your skull, hmm?”
Of course, this was a complete and utter lie, but the naïve, terrified, mentally exhausted teenager, a girl who had watched and covered her eyes through more horror movies than anyone could possibly imagine, a girl who had for days endured constant tickle torture in a dungeon that she never would have imagined existed, believed every word of it. Tears welled up in her eyes as she dropped to her knees, not even noticing they were touching the dirty floor, and put her arms around her “executioner’s” legs. “Please, no! Don’t kill me! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I swear! Please, I didn’t mean to do all those terrible things to Bobby and Ester! I didn’t know, I swear! Please, oh God, please don’t kill me! I’ll do anything you want, just don’t kill me!”
“Ooh, she sounds so cute when she begs for her life,” commented Helga, reaching her hand towards the half-naked cheerleader. With a scream, Felicia dashed towards the door, the rocky floor hurting her feet despite the few steps she took. This caught Helga by surprise, who, startled, didn’t reach the girl until after she had unlocked and partially opened the door. It was the closest Felicia had come to freedom since she was first abducted on the street. All it took was one giant hand reaching around Felicia’s bicep, pulling her away with one swift, violent jerk which sent her to the floor next to the table, the rock floor sending a stinging pain directly into her left hipbone and side of her left knee. Still hanging on to her prisoner, Helga shut and locked the door before pulling Felicia to her feet with such strength that the teen thought she was going to hit the ceiling.
“Not a good idea, little girl. Not a good idea at all,” scolded Helga maliciously as Felicia struggled with all might to pull away, the strength of her tiny body not enough to escape the grip of the one mighty arm. The muscular woman grabbed the younger girl’s other arm and brought her right up to her rock hard chest, turning her around in the process. Cletus walked right up to Felicia until his face was less that a foot away from hers. His eyes stared maliciously into hers, cruel intent was written all over his face. He was giving her “the look”. “I think Cletus wants a taste of that cute body of yours while your still alive,” said the mentally handicapped man’s mother as his tongue reached all the way to the bridge of his nose. Felicia stared in shock. She had only seen monsters in scary movies do that. In one brief moment, her brain made sense of it all, that these people were not people at all, but demons that wanted to torture her. Her fear, exhausted brain, rapidly beating heart, and lungs that suddenly couldn’t seem to get enough air in them with each breath all teamed up on her, and she fainted in Helga’s arms.
Felicia awoke moments later to the feeling of something warm and wet sliding across her face. She screamed, trying to cover her face and get away when she realized it was Cletus’s tongue, but all she could do was attempt in vain to move her face out of the way of the 25 year-old’s slimy, disgusting tongue. While she was unconscious, they had put her back on the restraining table, and now she was lying with her arms straight above her head, unable to move. Metal clamps bolted her wrists, elbows, and ankles in place, which left her now-half-naked body fully exposed. Her only protection was a white cotton bra and a pair of white panties.
At his mother’s command, Cletus backed away from the prisoner, who, disgusted, strained to wipe her face on her arm. Helga stood over Felicia’s head. Smiling, she gently placed her hands on the girl’s cheeks, forcing her to look up at her torturer. “My, oh my, does Cletus like you a lot or what?” “W-w-what’s with his…..his…..?” “His tongue?” Helga finished Felicia’s question. “Who knows? I know nothing about biology and genetics and that stuff. I just know that that’s what happens when your parents commit incest. Oh don’t worry, technically I’m not the mother,” she assured Felicia when she saw her face cringe in disgust. “I guess I’m his aunt, though I always think of him as my son. That’s also why he doesn’t talk much. Wow, I haven’t actually heard him utter a sound in years. Isn’t that right sweetie?” Cletus just licked his lips as he paced around the table, not once taking his eyes off of Felicia’s feet.
“Ooh, you’re just going to be tickled to death when you hear what we have planned for you today,” continued Helga in a seemingly jovial mood that made Felicia shudder. She didn’t want to be “tickled to death” by anything, except maybe by not being tickled to death. “My boy just loves the taste of a woman’s skin, the smoother the better. Do you know what part of a woman’s body he likes the best? Do you?” Felicia did not give any sort of reply, as not only did she not know the answer, she also did not want to know the answer. Helga seemed to be almost glowing as she told Felicia the answer anyway.
“The soles of a woman’s feet.”
Less than a second later, Felicia found herself trying to power her way out of her restraints, something that Helga couldn’t even do. Adrenaline rushed through her body as the color rushed away from her face, and it gave her more strength than she ever had in her life. Unfortunately, this was not enough to break free, and therefore really wasn’t all that important and actually went unnoticed by everyone, even Felicia herself, who couldn’t bare the thought of Cletus’s (or anyone else’s) tongue running up and down her soles. This further reinforced Helga’s claim, in her mind, that they were going to literally tickle her to death.
“Now, you impudent little bitch, bend your toes backwards as far as you can,” ordered Helga, a “take no nonsense” tone evident in her deep, masculine voice. Felicia hesitated for a moment, then obeyed. She flexed her toes backward, her feet now as vulnerable as possible (since just being strapped to a table unable to move is just never enough). She cringed as Cletus knelt in front of her right foot. Helga came up behind her son, still addressing Felicia. “While my son is tasting your soles, you will not move your feet an inch. If you do, well…” her voice trailed off as her gaze slowly fell upon the skulls that covered the dungeon walls.
Cletus opened his mouth, his gross and disgusting long tongue slowly closing in with her right sole. Panicking, Felicia began to plead for her life, but it was all for naught. As that tongue made contact with her foot, she nearly jumped out of her skin, letting out a high pitched scream that even shocked the skilled dominatrix, who had in her years heard all types of feminine (and masculine) screams, shrieks, squeals, cries, yelps, laughter, and so forth.
Felicia reflexively scrunched her toes forward, prompting Helga to slam her mighty palm down on the table next to her head. “One….more….chance,” she told the ticklish young girl slowly and purposefully.
It began again. Cletus slowly, in order to maximize her fear and anticipation, brought his tongue closer and closer to her right sole. Felicia flexed back her toes, giving him more places to tickle. Her body tensed and tightened more than it ever had before. She had to be ready, she couldn’t let her concentration break for a moment. If she moved her feet just once, Helga would tickle her to DEATH. She had to be able to withstand the tickle torture of her feet, she just had to. She just had no idea how that was going to happen.
The tongue connected again to her sensitve skin, and a look of pure animal fear washed over her face. “OH GOD, OH GOD, OH GOD, OH GOD,” she consciously yelled as loud as she could over and over again in an attempt to focus her concentration on the screaming and flexing backwards of the toes rather than the tickling. Amazingly, her feet stayed more or less still, at least still enough to not warrant any interference from Helga. The long tongue glided over Felicia’s sole, circling up her arch and down her instep, leaving those areas coated with a layer of saliva. The girl’s back arched as she, beginning to lose her concentration, tried to focus her attention on that. After a minute of licking her right foot, her left foot became the next focus of Cletus’s “tender love and care”. The moist tongue tormented her hypersensitive soles, running up to the balls of her foot before descending down to her heel. Thankfully, her feet didn’t move, though she could see Helga standing over her, leering at her toes, just waiting for them to move so she could jump in. Cletus’s tongue even ran over the underside of her toes, prompting an “OH DEAR GOOOOOOOD” from Felicia just to keep in control.
After a total of 3 and a half minutes of the torture, Felicia couldn’t hang on any longer. Her toes curled and her feet bend inward and forward.
There was no breaks at all for her. Helga immediately jumped in, yelling, “Those feet of yours moved! It’s time to die, Little Miss Cheerleader USA!” Suddenly, Felicia could feel a rough pair of hands tickling her smooth and creamy underarms. She screamed bloody murder as her voice broke into laughter, her high-pitched feminine voice counteracting the lower, masculine laughter of her torturer. Helga laughed evilly, right in her face too. The relentless armpit torture was maddening, but nothing could possibly compare to that tongue on the bottom of her feet! It was worse than anything the rest of the family did to her, even worse than Ester’s tickling of her feet. Fingernails were one thing, but a tongue licking her soles was much worse. It wasn’t just the tickling, but that it was so gross and disgusting too (it was a TONGUE after all), and Cletus’s unnaturally long tongue covered a lot more surface area than a normal one would. A good lick covered the entire sole at once! There was no way Felicia could survive.
Felicia felt her lungs begin to ache as hysterical laughter and semi-coherent pleading escaped her lips. She tried to move even the slightest bit, but the metal straps prevented her from protecting her slim, sensitive young body. Helga’s fingers scratched at her armpits while Cletus’s tongue meticulously explored her soles and toes. He would either hold her feet perfectly still while licking her soles and balls, bend back her toes and tongue tickle them, or hold the foot he was licking with one hand and reach out with his other and tickle the heel of the other foot. This sent shockwaves all the way to her brain which caused her to shudder and squeal, her fists clenching tightly and her eyes squeezing shut. She was a Christian girl and believed in Hell, and the idea of this type of torture being administered in Satan’s fire pits suddenly wasn’t all that farfetched. Cletus alternated every few minutes between which foot he targeted while Helga’s tickling of her armpits never let up for a second. She wiggled her hands rapidly in the girl’s creamy pits, a pattern that although it didn’t offer much unpredictability, also didn’t offer many breaks or respite. She gasped for air between fits of laughter, but unfortunately those “breaks” were few and far between.
Felicia’s mind began to reel and the room began to spin. Silent laughter mixed with audible laughter. Her face turned red and her body glistened with sweat. Her throat was dry; she was dehydrated. But her tormentors didn’t care. She was tickled for hours on end. After a little under two hours, Helga focused her attention on Felicia’s sides. The exhausted teenage girl suddenly found herself squirming with slightly renewed vigor. The tickling of her sides was unbearable and was driving her crazy, yet somehow wasn’t half as bad as Cletus tongue tickling her toes. If there was a girl out there with more ticklish anything than Felicia’s feet, she felt truly sorry for this person.
After a couple hours, the stripped cheerleader was feeling very faint, dizzy, and exhausted. Even the silent laughter stopped. Instead she was just gasping for air and moaning softly. “Oh…..God”, she whispered meekly as Helga began to tickle the sides and bottoms of her chest. Drool ran down her cheek as she felt her eyes begin to grow heavy. Suddenly, at Helga’s command (which she was too out of it to even hear), the tickling stopped. Cletus straddled her thighs as Helga went to the bathroom to get a cup of water. She returned with a large cup of tap water which she held over the girl’s lips as she drank. A few minutes later and Felicia once again had a firm grasp on her consciousness.
“Please…….no more………No more, please,” begged Felicia, still gasping for air. Helga leaned over, cradling Felicia’s neck and gently stroking her cheek. “Oh please,” continued the cheerleader, “no more. I can’t take it. Please let me go home, I beg of you. Please!” Helga squeezed Felicia’s face (so that her mouth looked like a fish’s mouth), chuckling lightly. “You really are cute when you beg,” she said. “It’s ironic. You are a vain little girl who allowed yourself to become physically weak in order to be seen as beautiful, and yet while you’re kind poke fun at people like me, saying things like I’m a man, who is the inferior one now, hmm?” Felicia’s eyes meekly stared up at Helga. If they could speak, they would be saying “Don’t hurt me”.
Suddenly, Cletus leaned over, his long tongue scoring a bull’s eye on her belly button. Luckily, Felicia was strapped down, else she would have jumped right into the ceiling. He tongue tickled in and around her belly button, his fingers targeting her upper and inner thighs. Helga got up and moved over to her right side, ferociously kneading her right set of ribs. Felicia went hysterical, but at least it wasn’t as bad as when Cletus tickled her feet.
“OH, SWEET GOD!!!! OH NO-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, SOMEONE HEEEEEELP MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!” cried poor Felicia hysterically. Helga laughed. “Who’s help exactly are you calling for, you diseased little tramp? No one can hear you scream. Now toughen up and take this little tickle like a real woman.”
Helga’s fingers dug into her ribs, hurting her a bit. Felicia screamed for someone, anyone to come save her even though she knew that Helga was right. She was on her own.
That of course didn’t stop her from nearly shattering her torturers’ eardrums. “OHHH-HOHOHOHOHO G-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-A-A-AWD, MOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!”
The expression of Helga’s face was priceless. Her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and her mouth went wide open with the largest smile to ever cross her face. The last time such a smile appeared on her was the last time she had seen her husband, shortly after the right hook that connected to his face. “Did you hear that!?” she asked Cletus, who was still preoccupied with Felicia’s stomach, his tongue finding it’s mark about an inch under her solar plexus. “She just called for her mommy! In all my years as a dom, I have never seen that before. I guess big, burly men don’t usually call for their mommies that often.” Moving her left hand over to Felicia’s left set of ribs, Helga taunted, “Aww does the little baby want her mommy? The little baby can’t stand a little tickle? What’s wrong, little baby? Can’t handle a little of this?” Her hands moved up, squeezing just below Felicia’s bra. The girl just shut her eyes and laughed, calling for her mother again, much to Helga’s delight.
Over a roughly 3 hour period, Felicia was tickled nonstop, and was only given periods where the intensity of the tickling was lowered so that she could breathe again. After an hour of teasing her stomach, Cletus’s tongue dived right into her belly button and stayed there for the next two hours, producing a tickling sensation so intense it made the God-fearing Christian girl want to commit suicide. His hands also moved up, tickling her waist, panty line, and hip bones. Helga had moved down to her right leg, focusing both hands on her calf muscles. At this point, the tickling had slowed down for almost 5 minutes, and Felicia was still quite out of breath and disheveled but her tickling was reduced to girlish giggles at the moment.
“Enjoying this?” inquired Helga. “Heeheehee, noooo,” replied Felicia. “Oh no?” retorted Helga. “Well then, I’m sure I can think of something you’ll REALLY enjoy. I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll stop tickling you and I’ll even leave the room if you agree to let Cletus lick your pussy for as long as he wants.”
Felicia’s head shot right off the table, her eyes going wide and her face showing an obvious look of terror and disgust despite the ear-to-ear grin it was sporting, mainly because of the tickling. Upon hearing this news, Cletus slowly lifted himself to an upright position, giving her “the look”, his grin not being produced by any tickling. But while the incest-produced man waited in glee for his chance at fresh teenage vagina, Felicia’s mind strained to process this new information. She couldn’t believe that she was even asked that. There was no way she was letting that…thing come anywhere near her pussy. No matter how intense the tickling became, or how long she was tickled, there was no way she was going to be violated by a giant tongue.
“So how about it?” prodded Helga.
“N-No! Ne-Never!” exclaimed Felica with a sudden burst of desperate courage.
“Never? Well it seems someone wasn’t being tickled as bad as we thought. Maybe we should really let her have it,” was Helga’s answer.
Felicia’s eyes went wide, her face twisted with fear. “No, please, NOOOOOOO-AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!” she screamed as the tickling started up again in full force, beginning with Cletus resuming tongue tickling her belly button and Helga’s left hand tickling under Felicia’s right knee while her right hand continued to work over the calf.
“What about now? Do we have a deal yet?” asked Helga.
At this moment in the Universe’s history, two very startling and shocking events took place. One involved a solar system on the other side of the galaxy, where the positions of the 12 planets actually, somehow, formed what could have been argued to be peace sign. The other equally shocking event was Felicia’s response, “N-N-N-NEVER!” The reason this is so shocking is because anyone who knows Felicia would know that you could get her to do almost anything under the threat of tickle torture. Once she wanted to see a movie, but her friends wanted to go to a club instead. She was steadfast in her decision to see the movie, a sappy romantic chick flick, and would not budge. That is, until one of her friends snuck up behind her and ran their fingernails up and down her stomach. After leaping about 20 feet off the ground, she reluctantly, yet without hesitation, agreed to go to the club.
Unfortunately for Felicia, she was dealing with a professional dominatrix this time around, one who was considered one of the best yet most underrated doms ever, one who excelled in breaking strong, masculine men using only tickle torture. She didn’t stand a chance. Helga didn’t ask her again for another 20 minutes. Her hands were wrapped around Felicia’s right thigh, tickling her all over, from just underneath her panties until a few inches above the knee. She even got her just where her leg and buttcheek met.
“Will you let my son lick your pussy?”
Felicia caught herself just as she was about to concede to the disgusting request, making sure she got a good look at that tongue. It was way too long to be a human tongue, and there was saliva and slobber all over it. “No! Never! I won’t let him!”
“Alright then,” said Helga with an exasperated sigh. “I guess I’ll just tickle your feet until you do.”
Just the suggestion of a foot tickle changed everything for Felicia. In an instant, she came to the realization that while Cletus’s tongue in her pussy may be unbelievably gross, there was no way it could be any worse than having her feet tickled. That was just inhuman torture. Felicia responded to the suggestion, as calmly as she could muster, “OH GOD, ALRIGHT! HE COULD DO IT! HE COULD DO IT!”
A sadistic smirk spread across Helga’s mannish face. “I knew you’d see things my way,” she said, quickly running a finger down the sole of Felicia’s soft foot. The foot jerked, along with the rest of the girl’s body which came simultaneously with a feminine shriek.
Cletus got up off her and moved back a little bit so that he would be in perfect position to assault her innocent sex. Helga stroked Felicia’s face. “Well then, I’ll just leave you two alone. You two will get along nicely, I’m sure. Treat my son well, alright?” She turned to leave as Felicia called out, “No, wait! Please! Don’t leave me alone with him, I’m begging you!” Helga opened the door, turning towards the table before leaving. “All you ever do is beg. First you tormented my niece and nephew, and then YOU beg for mercy? Amazing. But don’t worry, I’m just going upstairs. Cletus, just come upstairs when you’re done, alright sweetie?” An affirmative nod from Cletus was Helga’s cue to skidoo, and with the clicking of the lock, Felicia was all alone in the room with Cletus.
The man’s raspy breath sounded demonic as fear hit Felicia like a strong slap across the face. Her lips trembled, her mouth hung partly open in fear, as a pair of hands slowly pulled down her panties, exposing her vulnerable vagina. Cletus marveled at the hairless wonder, which from his perspective seemed tight and untouched. And he was right.
Felicia felt her face grow hot. This was absolutely humiliating. No one had ever seen her vagina before, and she wanted the first boy to see her naked to be the first boy she truly loved, or at least liked enough to let him see her naked. But now, this creepy guy, possibly a demon or monster, would be the first person to see her naked vagina, and he would be licking it too! Her panties were now rolled up about mid-thigh. Her whole body tensed and her eyes squeezed shut in anticipation as that tongue slowly lowered herself towards her pussy. “Oh my God,” she whispered softly, clenching her fists and toes.
For a moment, it crossed her mind that maybe it won’t be so bad. Maybe she may even like it. She’s seen porn before. Those women always seem to love getting their pussies licked. Maybe this would be a great experience for her. Boy was she wrong. Poor girl.
“OH SWEET MOTHER!!!!!!!!!!” she yelled before letting out a high-pitched scream that steadily morphed into silent laughter. Her whole body shook as Cletus’s tongue probed the sides of her groin area, just where her leg started. The tickling was something out of this world. Every nerve ending between her legs felt like they were on fire. She took in a deep breath and tried to hold it, but it came out a second later as a booming,
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Cletus’s tongue moved around the perimeter of the general groin area, focusing mainly just where her skin met the metal table. That was the worst part. It made her buttocks leap of the table every single time, only to find it had nowhere to go. Her most sensitive, private area was completely at his mercy, and he wasn’t planning on ceasing the terrible tongue tickle torture of her vagina anytime soon.
“This is a dream. It’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, it’s just a dream, it’s just a dream. I wanna wake up, I wanna wake up, I wanna wake up, oh God I WANNA WAKE UUUPP!” Something was wrong. This wasn’t right, it couldn’t be happening. Stuff like this just didn’t happen in real life. The part of her brain that used past experience to make decisions and conclusions about the world around her told her that girls didn’t just get captured off the streets and tickle tortured, but then the nerves between her legs told her brain to shut the hell up.
Cletus’s tongue circled Felicia’s pussy lips, moving closer and closer. Felicia wiggled her buttocks around the few precious inches that she could, terrified of the results of that tongue making contact with her sex. “OH GOD!!!!” she screamed, startled as the long, slobbery tongue made contact with her outer pussy lips. Her ass lifted again an inch off the table, but was brought back down by Cletus’s hands. Now there was no possible place for her vagina to go, it was trapped in one spot while being mercilessly violated by a mentally disabled monster.
She endured his teasing tongue on her outer lips for another 8 minutes before the inner lips were targeted next. “NO! CLETUS, PLEASE NO!!!!” she shouted in pure horror, confidant his tongue was going to enter her. She was not prepared to handle that.
Laughter filled the room as the tongue teased and tickled her vagina. For over a half hour, Felicia was locked in a state of ticklish agony, humiliation, self-consciousness, disgust, and terror. Time slowed from a crawl to a seemingly dead stop. If you were to have asked her, she would have told you that that went on for 3-4 hours, not 30 minutes. Then suddenly, Felicia’s mind realized it had lost a battle it would continue to fight, for Cletus’s tongue did the most horrible, sadistic, inhuman thing possible.
It entered her.
Despite his origins, he wasn’t stupid. He knew what he was doing. His aim was accurate and true, his target an area where, if one could control it, one could hold power over even the most powerful, dominant, strong willed woman. An area which drives women to do certain things, with which anyone could control a woman. An area which was more sensitive that any other part of a woman’s body. His tongue began to torture this hypersensitive area, an area where no one but Felicia had ever explored before.
His tongue tortured her clitoris.
It was tough to explain the sensation that came over her. It wasn’t as powerful as when someone tickled her feet, but it was more intense. It didn’t tickle nearly as much, but yet she felt it more potently. It was an experience she couldn’t even describe, one she wished she would forget yet one that she never could. Shrill, insanity-gripped, bloodcurdling screams filled the air. But not the screams of someone getting tickled. They sounded more like someone being murdered. She literally sounded like she was being raped, and that really wasn’t far from the truth.
Felicia’s eyes were wide and filled with tears. She mouthed silent prayers to God for Cletus to stop, her mouth switching back and forth between being wide open and being curled into a ticklish smile. Prayers, moans, and laughter poured from her body like a river. Her fists clenched, her feet curled, her stomach sucked in and her chest expanded as her lungs filled with air. She felt no pleasure from this, even subconsciously. She just wanted this to end one way or another. For the first time in her life, death was not a repulsive option. Apparently, a tongue on your clitoris only feels good if you want it there in the first place (and if it doesn’t totally gross you the hell out).
Cletus just licked her clit over and over for an hour and a half as Felicia writhed in agony. She recited the prayer over and over, louder and louder each time, in hopes of both shifting her concentration on the prayer rather than the sexual torture, as well as divine intervention. While it started off as a whisper, it quickly came out somewhere between a normal voice and a scream. After that 90 minute period, Cletus removed his tongue from her pussy. He practically threw himself towards her face, giving her a kiss she would (unfortunately) never forget. She thought Bobby’s kiss was disgusting, but compared to Cletus, Bobby was Brad Pitt. His tongue slid down her throat, causing her eyes to water as she felt herself choking. He held her head in place, offering her no chance to escape. His tongue alternated between exploring her mouth, sliding down her throat, and licking her lips. She tried to scream for him to stop, but she could not manage to do so. All she wanted was for him to stop molesting her, for all of them to stop torturing her and leave her alone. She wanted to go home, she missed her family and friends. She wanted to eat, to be able to get up and walk around. But because of the delusions and lack of self-responsibility of two of her classmates, she was condemned to a life of misery, servitude, and tickle torture.
As Cletus was having his way with the high school student, the door opened. Helga entered the room behind Ester and Bobby, who just came home from the library which they went to after school. What Felicia didn’t know was that it was now 5 in the afternoon. Helga first started torturing her at 8 in the morning. And it wasn’t over yet.
Bobby and Cletus ogled over the half naked cheerleader, especially her bare pussy, while Ester glared at Felicia’s perfect girlish figure with scorn, contempt, and jealousy. Helga went to the bathroom to get some more water for their dehydrated prisoner. Felicia greedily lapped up the water from the cup like a dog as it was poured into her mouth. She was too exhausted to even hear Helga tell everybody that they would “entertain their guest” until Robert and Claudia returned home at 9 o’clock, or notice her panties get pulled up so that it properly covered her privates. She didn’t realize that more tickling was about to ensue until she felt it, startling the poor ticklee back into coherency.
Cletus’s tongue ran up and down her right foot, from the bottom of the heel to the tips of each toe. On her other foot, Ester’s fingernails ran wild. Her small, tender feet were vulnerable, and not a single inch was spared. Felicia was running on adrenaline now, being tickled to the point of passing out and then simultaneously being tickled back into consciousness. The tickling of her feet was sending her fragile mind running in circles. Meanwhile, Bobby began tickling her ribs, stomach, sides, waist, and hips while Helga focused her attack on Felicia’s legs, noting aloud about how easily she could break her “skinny little legs”.
Soon, Felicia was nothing but a giggling mass of sweat and tortured nerve endings. Her lungs and head were in agony, beyond just hurting a little bit. Helga and Bobby moved around, making sure that every part of her body, neck, armpits, breasts, ribs, sides, stomach, waist, panty line, hips, pussy, and legs, was mercilessly tortured. But none of it compared to the tickling of her feet, especially when Cletus’s tongue ran itself between her toes. To her, it wasn’t just a harmless tickle. It was a fate worse than death, the worst feeling she had ever experienced in her entire life.
At about a quarter after 8, Felicia couldn’t hold her bladder anymore. She relieved herself right on the table, physically feeling better (since holding in more urine than your body weight is really hard and uncomfortable), but also feeling more humiliated than she ever did in her whole life (since if you think being tied down and tickled is bad, you should do it while laying in a puddle of your own urine while everyone else laughs and jeers at you). It was only a few minutes before Robert and Claudia came back home at 9 PM did the cheerleader slip into blissful unconsciousness. After 13 straight hours of tickle torturing the girl, Helga and the others decided she had enough.
“You sure you don’t want to tickle her more tonight? All 6 of us?” asked Helga as she and her son prepared to leave. “We could really give that skinny little bitch Hell. You could even bring that clown back, or maybe some of the other patrons from the club and we could all have a ball.”
“No thanks, Sis, not tonight. Me and Robert had a long day at the club, and we’re really tired right now, Ester and Bobby have homework that they should have been doing, and plus I’d like to see my kids go to bed on time for once. But Felicia will be here next time you come back, I’m sure,” answered Claudia, embracing her older sister. “See you at the club tomorrow. Take care, Cletus. Bye.” She closed the door behind her sister and nephew, walking back into the living room and setting herself down next to her husband on the couch as he flipped through the TV. Then suddenly, like a slap in the face with a pair of brass knuckles, she got the idea of a lifetime. She told Robert about it later that night in bed, and he loved it. But they would need time, time to figure out who they could trust and to prepare the places they needed to work, as well as to give Felicia time to adjust to her new life so that the shock would be unspeakable when they changed everything for the worse. They thought the plans they originally had for the girl were cruel, but this brought things to new levels.
Felicia was fed the next morning, a rather large breakfast of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. It was the happiest moment of her life, and she greedily devoured all the food. She would be fed the same meal everyday in the morning and at night, as well as receive bathroom breaks at that time and a change of underwear when she couldn’t make it to the bathroom. Outside of that, she was held prisoner in that room for the next 2 months, being subject to the ticklish whims of the family, including Helga sometimes. She would lie on that table for hours on end trying to remember life before she was abducted. She would think of her family and spending time shopping with her mother or laughing at funny movies with her father. She remembered her friends and all the times they went clubbing, or hung out at the local pizza joint, or how they showed up at each other’s houses with big tubs of ice cream when one of them broke up with their boyfriends. She remembered all her friends from the cheerleading squad. Speaking of which, the next time Ester tickled her, she really rubbed it in by wearing Felicia’s uniform while she did it. This really hurt the real cheerleader, who loved both the uniform and the sport itself very much. Ester did not do the uniform justice, being too large for it and all. Her stomach and hips sagged over the skirt and her fat legs just did not look good, and the whole uniform was stretched to its breaking point. But Ester wore it with pride, deliberately rubbing it in how she was the cheerleader now as she mercilessly tickled Felicia to the point of wetting herself again, and then rubbing in how real cheerleaders don’t pee in their panties.
Outside, the police had basically given up the search for the missing girl. Her parents were still searching, but had also given up hope. Her friends were beyond distraught, and no amount of ice-cream-eating or teddy-bear-hugging could make them forget about their friend, who was now presumed dead.
But for two months, Felicia never left that dungeon. Except for the few minutes she was allowed to eat and shower, she was strapped to that table and tickle tortured without any sort of mercy or compassion. And then, exactly 60 days later, on the same day in which interstellar war broke out in a distant galaxy over a debate over whether or not one of its solar systems was actually in the shape of a peace sign, she woke up one morning to find that she was still securely bound. But it wasn’t to that table. She was hogtied, still in her bra and panties, and she was gagged and blindfolded. This was the first time in her experience she had been blindfolded, and coupled with the sudden change of bondage and the fact that the floor beneath her seemed to be rumbling, she broke out in a cold sweat. She heard Bobby’s voice to her left, and he told her that they were in the same soundproof van they used to abduct her in the first place. “But there’s good news. You’re going to get to see the club! And you’ll be staying there for an awfully looooooong time.”
End of Part 5
A/N Well I hope everyone's stomach dropped after reading that one! Please rate and review. I will hopefully have Part 6 up soon, sometime after I first start writing it. Hope you all enjoyed that. Until next time, uhh, I really don't know what to say. Drive safely?
By the way, I know being born out of incest would not actually give you a really long tongue in real life. I just made that up. Get over it.
WOW! 
