A/N Hi there, ladies and germs! I don't have alot to say right now, being in a bad mood over a girl in my class and all that, but I am here now to present to you a great gift known as "Felicia the Cheerleader" Part 6. It is significantly shorter than its two predecessors because I have divided up what was originally going to be Part 6 into two parts (the latter of which being Part 7), but that doesn't mean it's of any less quality that Parts 1-5.
But if a long tickling story is what you desire, then check out the previous part at: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=64571 I guarantee it will make you laugh, make you cry, it even made fellow TMFer Gamer "crench". If it made him crench, it must be good!
So here it is, for your crenching desires (sorry, Gamer), "Felicia the Cheerleader" Part 6:
Part 6 (MF/F)
The van had stopped some time ago, and Felicia had been left alone in the back with a horny Bobby while his parents went inside to make the final “preparations”, which included a not-so-quick run to the bathroom for Robert and his partly digested double nacho spicy jalapeno bean burrito taco quesadilla. The only thing that matched the fear of those entering the men’s room after him was the fear of the young high school cheerleader hogtied in the back of this van in her bra and panties, gagged and blindfolded no less. She could hear the raspy breathing of the horny adolescent boy as he stared at her bound body in pure lust, not an ounce of morality in him. Not a good combination. She trembled with fear, but other than that she made no sound. Maybe if she didn’t move, he would forget all about her.
She felt a stab of fear as she heard him rise up and kneel next to her, and she jumped slightly as he begun stroking (not tickling) the side of her neck and face. “You know, I really don’t hate you like the rest of my family does,” he told her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ears. “I actually like you. I really like you, no, I love you, Felicia. But you see, I see things differently than most other guys, I see things for how they are. Most guys would actually submit themselves to a pretty girl, to treat her like a queen. But women, as we all know, are inferior to men. My dad told me this, and he told me the prettier a girl is, the more feminine she is, and that means the more inferior she is to men. So while other guys are buying their girlfriends jewelry like idiots, I’m giving you the treatment you deserve. All beautiful girls are supposed to be unconditionally punished, girls like you are supposed to be taught a lesson.” He began stroking her face with two hands. “You’re supposed to learn how to obey and submit to men. And you, Felicia, are way behind. And you’re so beautiful, you are even more inferior than the rest. Your nature shows that, always being so nice and generous to others rather than being tough like my Aunt Helga. Pretty girls are SUPPOSED to be tortured, it’s how they learn their place. So I don’t want you to think I’m doing this because I hate you, because if I did, I would have killed you a long time ago for ruining my sister’s life.”
Felicia was too afraid to even feel disgusted by that misogynistic monologue. She was about to be tortured for possibly the rest of her life and probably made into Bobby’s slave. Or worse, his SEX slave! Felicia felt her eyes tear at the putrid thought. She wasn’t ready to have sex yet, and definitely not ready for sexual slavery. She felt Bobby kissing her forehead and side of her neck. It wasn’t right and she didn’t want any part of it, but she didn’t struggle because she didn’t want to provoke him into tickling her. But Bobby turned her on her side, his kisses moving down her neck and onto her sternum. She felt dirty and violated as his lips touched the top of her chest, and all she wanted to do was to tell him to stop, to get up and run away, to scream or cry or something like that. But she fought herself with every ounce of strength to keep from resisting, as she’d rather he kissed her breasts than tickle them. His mouth ran down her stomach slowly, and she was terrified that he might begin to kiss her sex. What truly scared her was that this physically felt so………good! But it wasn’t right, it was dirty and perverse and she didn’t want to do it! This only made the whole situation more uncomfortable that it was, only heightened the torture. Oh God, why did the lesser of two evils have to be so evil? Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? The innocent young girl had been made their tickle slave for the past 2 months, and she wanted more than anything else to see her family at least one more time in her life.
All of a sudden, Felicia felt something vibrating in and around her bellybutton. Whatever vibrated around the rim was dry and chapped, but whatever had made its way inside was soft and moist. Whatever it was, it scared the crap out of Felicia even in her heightened state of alertness (something that could have been called “relaxed alertness”, since her body was tense but was not predicting a tickle attack) and she screamed into her gag. Bobby ran his hands all over the helpless hogtied heroine’s terribly ticklish torso (ohh, nice!) once he was through with the raspberries, and between the gag and the soundproof van, even someone who walked right next to the vehicle could not hear Felicia’s desperate screams and insane laughter.
With an adrenaline-induced burst of strength, Felicia managed to get herself onto her stomach. She screamed and begged through her gag for him to leave her alone, but instead she felt his hand grab the chain that connected her feet and her hands (it should have been said earlier that her bondage consisted of a pair of black leather cuffs, one on her wrists and one on her ankles, with a chain connecting the other two chains and forcing her into a hogtie position) and his other hand skittering all over her bare soles. Now as ticklish as her feet are, even when she sees it coming and prepares herself, she still cannot endure being tickled down there (or anywhere really), but now, blindfolded and unable to sense the attack coming, this girl nearly jumped out of her skin and into Bobby’s. Her whole body from head to toe squirmed, shook, and writhed with ticklish agony, and Bobby had to sit on her ass and hold the chain with all of his might as his fingers skillfully tormented every inch of her bare feet.
Fortunately, fate intervened less than 5 minutes later in the form of somebody entering the van. Felicia hoped that it was her parents or the police or the Marines or someone, but she figured she wasn’t that lucky. And she was right. Heavy footsteps echoed through the van, stopping short just behind her. “Long time no see, Alicia,” said the chillingly-familiar masculine voice that belonged to none other than Helga. In order to further crush Felicia’s self-esteem and dignity, she would sometimes call her deliberately by the wrong name. The last time she had seen her, 3 weeks ago, she tickled Felicia until the girl admitted that her name was whatever Helga wanted it to be. Even though a strikingly similar event happened in George Orwell’s “1984”, she did not, in fact, get the idea from that book. Whatever the case, Felicia’s blood ran cold and her eyes grew wide behind her blindfold as she heard Bobby say, “Aunt Helga!!!!” At this point, Bobby hugged his uncle-like aunt, but Felicia of course could not see it, which is all right because it was totally irrelevant to everything and anything. “Are they done?” continued Bobby, with a sudden hint of disappointment in his voice. He wanted to have Felicia all to himself. Helga laughed. “Sorry, kiddo, but it’s time give her the grand tour of the club.” The cheerleader felt her whole body go numb with terror. She did not want to be trapped in some BDSM club where everybody gets off on whipping each other and everything. Now everyone knows how the Internet works, and even if you don’t look for something like hardcore BDSM it won’t matter because it will come looking for you. On more than one occasion did it find her and she thought these people in their leather outfits and their whips were scary. She had even seen those rape fantasy sites, and she could only pray that the WORST they would do to her was tickle torture her.
Almost as if on cue, Helga added, “There are plenty of patrons, especially the males, that would love to have a crack at her one way or another, if you know what I mean.”
Felicia panicked. She began screaming at full blast into her gag, screaming for someone to help her, screaming for them to not rape her, whatever screaming an 18 year old girl would do if she just found out that she was about to be thrown into a pack of rapist wolves, she screamed it. She heard one of them close the door as Helga whispered in her ear, “That won’t work, child. This van ain’t parked in the street. The soundproofing isn’t even needed right now. No one can hear you.”
This of course did not stop Felicia from screaming and trying to break out of her bondage, but rather caused her to scream and struggle more. “So, now what? Do we take her in like that?” asked Bobby. “No, put her out first.” Felicia’s screams increased in intensity upon hearing Helga’s suggestion to slip her into unconsciousness. “But I think my dad has the chloroform.” “Don’t worry, Bobby. I have a much more fun idea of how to make her pass out, though it would probably take awhile. Do you have the key to her chains?” Bobby stammered and sputtered in confusion until Felicia, who had stopped screaming, heard them whispering amongst themselves. She could not hear a word they were saying, only that they were saying words, which should hopefully be painfully obvious to everyone. Suddenly, she heard, “Wow, Aunt Helga! You’re the greatest!” She knew whatever Helga had suggested couldn’t be good. Suddenly she felt the presence of both of them one either side of her. She felt herself lifted off the ground by the chain connecting her handcuffs to her ankle cuffs, and then she felt herself fall a few feet and slam hard onto the van’s metal floor. Helga had lifted her up with one arm and dropped her just for the sake of being evil. Pain erupted in the right side of Felicia’s face, her right shoulder, her right set of ribs, her right hip, and her right thigh. Her screaming started up again louder than ever as the chain connecting the cuffs was unlocked and discarded, but her hands were still cuffed behind her back and her feet were still cuffed together. A pair of hands grabbed her arms and brought her to a standing position. It was also a learning experience for Felicia, who learned that standing and ankle cuffs do not mix.
“STAND UP, BITCH!!!!” as Helga’s massive hand slapped Felicia hard across the face. Helga was VERY strong, and Felicia didn’t even see it coming. She actually blacked out for a second, but the shock brought her back to coherency. Her face throbbed with pain, and she was thrown off balance and as a result fell backwards, the ankle cuffs preventing her from steadying herself.
She felt herself get pulled to her feet by, of all things, her left bra cup. She cooperated with the hand whose massive fingers were touching her breast and nipple and, seconds later, was standing. She began sobbing into her gag, her blindfold soaking up her tears. “I can’t believe—DON’T MAKE ME HIT YOU AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!” screamed Helga. It took every ounce of strength, but Felicia managed to just barely fight back her tears. “Now, spoiled little princess, you will stand there and not move until I say you can move. If you disobey, you will get beaten harder and harder. Understood?” asked the dominatrix. Hesitantly, nervously, Felicia nodded slightly. It was amazing how much more exposed a blindfold made you feel, not being able to see what was coming and all. Everything would be a shock and a surprise, and that heightened her body’s sensitivity. It didn’t help that she couldn’t move, or else she would fall flat on her face AND get beaten, probably on her face. Such a shame, she had such a pretty face. To top it all off, she was wearing only her bra and panties, and with so much bare flesh exposed and at their mercy, who knew what these 2 sadistic maniacs would do to this poor girl? Such a shame, she had such a pretty body. She had pretty everything, really. She was such a pretty girl. Shame.
She stood there for about half a minute, unable to see, speak, or move. Every second was infinitely more maddening than the first. As much as she tried to steel herself against any possible attacks or tortures she was most definitely about to be the victim of, her body instead seemed to go the other way on that and was feeling as sensitive and vulnerable as possible. It was amazing how a body so beautiful could be such a bitch at times.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed at her knees. She let out a startled and muffled yelp, her body stiffening. Another hand grabbed at the back of her knees, and she tried to bend her knees together in that really sexy way that models do when they pose sometimes, though she wasn’t thinking about modeling at the time. As the same hand poked her thigh, another one squeezed her ribs, causing her to double over. Suddenly the small of her back, just above her ass, was assaulted, causing her to shoot straight up. Her right inner thigh and stomach were poked next. Each time she was grabbed, another scream or squeal was produced. Helga and Bobby were too experienced to be sloppily grabbing random places. There attacks, though not planned in advance, were coordinated to cause a certain area of Felicia’s body to expose itself, which the next attack would take care of. Bobby would poke her stomach and cause her to double over, which would prompt Helga to tickle her back, causing the girl to arch her back and expose her chest. Bobby would tickle her breasts, Helga would get her calves, and so forth. They circled around her like vultures. Bobby had small, slender hands while Helga had gigantic wrecking machine mitts, so they each grabbed at certain spots to maximize the variety, and therefore Felicia’s sensitivity. There was a reason Helga was one of the most prominent tickle torture experts in the world. If each body part was only tickled by either Bobby or Helga’s hand, then that would add a degree, though an admittedly small degree, of predictability to their ticklish assaults. And Helga never showed any of her clients mercy. There was no way she was going to start with this spoiled prom queen brat.
Each attack lasted longer and longer, and squeals became giggles and giggles became full-blown laughter. Felicia felt a hand begin tickling the back of her knees while a pair of larger hands assaulted her delicate panty-line. She squirmed to avoid their tickling fingers, but the hands tickling her hypersensitive knees were too much for her, and fell to her knees. She felt the presence of the person in front of her go behind her, hooking their left arm around hers and falling backward causing Felicia to fall on top of her. A massive leg wrapped around her waist. “Get her feet!” Helga’s voice yelled right in her ear. Suddenly, she felt pressure on her ankles, pinning them to the floor. The arm that held her arms released them, instead opting to hold her head down by the nose. By the end of this stunning display of professional wrestling talent minus the steel chairs and corny speeches by large men in Speedos, Helga was laying on her back with Felicia on top of her. One hand covered her nose, causing her to only be able to breath through her gag which was very difficult, and also pinned her head to her torturer’s gigantic chest. The other hand was free to do as it pleased. Her left leg wrapped around Felicia’s waist, pinning it down and leaving her bare torso (bare except for the bra, of course) unable to move and totally vulnerable. Because Felicia wasn’t laying on the floor, but instead had her back on Helga, this caused her back to naturally arch itself, creating a protrusion of her ribs, limiting the movement of her torso, stretching her stomach taut, and just generally increasing her vulnerability. In addition, Bobby sat on her ankles and had his greedy little hands ready to unleash Hell upon her delicate size 5’s. And that’s when the massacre begun.
Helga’s hand ran across Felicia’s sides and ribs, sending the girl into muffled hysterics. Felicia could barely move her body to avoid the assault, which further heightened her ticklishness, especially when coupled with the nullification of her sense of sight and ability to speak. The blocking of the airflow through her nose, however, was affecting her ability to stay conscious and making her head spin.
But of course, that was nothing compared to Bobby’s tickling of her feet. The most ticklish part of her body, no matter how many times her feet got it, she dreaded such a terrible event. It was something her body could never get used to, she was that ticklish. Her feet wiggled, squirmed, and flexed in the cutest possible way, but they were unable to either escape Bobby’s fingers or garner enough sympathy to be shown mercy. Her feet were going to suffer unbearable tickle torture until she was out cold, and there was nothing she could do short of pass out or transform into the She-Hulk and smash the puny humans (yes I know only the Hulk said “Puny humans, Hulk will smash”, but since Felicia’s not a man…….).
For over twenty minutes, three evil hands (if hands can truly be evil) tickled her sides, ribs, tummy, waist, breasts, feet, and even dug themselves into her covered armpits. The sweat that covered her body made things easier for Helga, reducing the friction between her hand and her torso to a minimum. The gag had suppressed her laughter, but now there wasn’t much to suppress. She was too exhausted and unable to breath to put up any sort of a fight. Finally the darkness of sleep overtook her, and her body went limp in Helga’s arms.
Helga and Bobby stood up slowly. “Well that was fun!” remarked Bobby excitedly. “I LOVE tickling her!” “Ah, yes, it’s always the prettiest ones that are the most fun to tickle. They make it so easy,” said his aunt, reaching down and hoisting the limp body over her shoulder. “Well now, let’s get her inside so we can put her in some REAL bondage, not a simple hogtie. There are quite a few people in there willing to pay top dollar for a crack at this skinny little body, and they will get their money’s worth and more.” Bobby opened the door of the van and they stepped out into the morning sun. “Our little tickle slave thinks she had it bad at your house, Bobby, well we’ll show her the true definition of domination. I will take it upon myself to not just manipulate this little girl’s body, but also her mind, no matter how many months it takes. When she enters my personal dungeon, she will know the true definition of sadism, and when she meets our patrons, she will learn that her body is the property of the highest bidder, not her own.” They entered a pair of gray double doors, one of the many back entrances to the large building that housed the BDSM club. Entering a little storeroom filled with boxes, Helga opened the leftmost door which led to a stairwell. “You, you little whore, have played games with my niece and nephew too much during your years in that high school, and now you will learn that what goes around, comes around tenfold.” Coming to a door on the second subbasement level that read AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY, she reached into her pocket with free hand for a key, unlocking the door. “Felicia, or Alicia, or whatever I decide your name is, welcome to your eternal damnation.”
End of Part 6
A/N I hope I made everyone's day with this story, because I think I myself am feeling much better. Yes I'm definitely feeling slightly less depressed over that girl
. Anyhoo, please rate and review, send me money if you'd like, and hopefully I will reward you all with Part 7, even those of you who don't send me money. Until next time, surf safely! Arrgh, spyware!!!!!!
But if a long tickling story is what you desire, then check out the previous part at: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=64571 I guarantee it will make you laugh, make you cry, it even made fellow TMFer Gamer "crench". If it made him crench, it must be good!
So here it is, for your crenching desires (sorry, Gamer), "Felicia the Cheerleader" Part 6:
Part 6 (MF/F)
The van had stopped some time ago, and Felicia had been left alone in the back with a horny Bobby while his parents went inside to make the final “preparations”, which included a not-so-quick run to the bathroom for Robert and his partly digested double nacho spicy jalapeno bean burrito taco quesadilla. The only thing that matched the fear of those entering the men’s room after him was the fear of the young high school cheerleader hogtied in the back of this van in her bra and panties, gagged and blindfolded no less. She could hear the raspy breathing of the horny adolescent boy as he stared at her bound body in pure lust, not an ounce of morality in him. Not a good combination. She trembled with fear, but other than that she made no sound. Maybe if she didn’t move, he would forget all about her.
She felt a stab of fear as she heard him rise up and kneel next to her, and she jumped slightly as he begun stroking (not tickling) the side of her neck and face. “You know, I really don’t hate you like the rest of my family does,” he told her, brushing a strand of hair behind her ears. “I actually like you. I really like you, no, I love you, Felicia. But you see, I see things differently than most other guys, I see things for how they are. Most guys would actually submit themselves to a pretty girl, to treat her like a queen. But women, as we all know, are inferior to men. My dad told me this, and he told me the prettier a girl is, the more feminine she is, and that means the more inferior she is to men. So while other guys are buying their girlfriends jewelry like idiots, I’m giving you the treatment you deserve. All beautiful girls are supposed to be unconditionally punished, girls like you are supposed to be taught a lesson.” He began stroking her face with two hands. “You’re supposed to learn how to obey and submit to men. And you, Felicia, are way behind. And you’re so beautiful, you are even more inferior than the rest. Your nature shows that, always being so nice and generous to others rather than being tough like my Aunt Helga. Pretty girls are SUPPOSED to be tortured, it’s how they learn their place. So I don’t want you to think I’m doing this because I hate you, because if I did, I would have killed you a long time ago for ruining my sister’s life.”
Felicia was too afraid to even feel disgusted by that misogynistic monologue. She was about to be tortured for possibly the rest of her life and probably made into Bobby’s slave. Or worse, his SEX slave! Felicia felt her eyes tear at the putrid thought. She wasn’t ready to have sex yet, and definitely not ready for sexual slavery. She felt Bobby kissing her forehead and side of her neck. It wasn’t right and she didn’t want any part of it, but she didn’t struggle because she didn’t want to provoke him into tickling her. But Bobby turned her on her side, his kisses moving down her neck and onto her sternum. She felt dirty and violated as his lips touched the top of her chest, and all she wanted to do was to tell him to stop, to get up and run away, to scream or cry or something like that. But she fought herself with every ounce of strength to keep from resisting, as she’d rather he kissed her breasts than tickle them. His mouth ran down her stomach slowly, and she was terrified that he might begin to kiss her sex. What truly scared her was that this physically felt so………good! But it wasn’t right, it was dirty and perverse and she didn’t want to do it! This only made the whole situation more uncomfortable that it was, only heightened the torture. Oh God, why did the lesser of two evils have to be so evil? Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? The innocent young girl had been made their tickle slave for the past 2 months, and she wanted more than anything else to see her family at least one more time in her life.
All of a sudden, Felicia felt something vibrating in and around her bellybutton. Whatever vibrated around the rim was dry and chapped, but whatever had made its way inside was soft and moist. Whatever it was, it scared the crap out of Felicia even in her heightened state of alertness (something that could have been called “relaxed alertness”, since her body was tense but was not predicting a tickle attack) and she screamed into her gag. Bobby ran his hands all over the helpless hogtied heroine’s terribly ticklish torso (ohh, nice!) once he was through with the raspberries, and between the gag and the soundproof van, even someone who walked right next to the vehicle could not hear Felicia’s desperate screams and insane laughter.
With an adrenaline-induced burst of strength, Felicia managed to get herself onto her stomach. She screamed and begged through her gag for him to leave her alone, but instead she felt his hand grab the chain that connected her feet and her hands (it should have been said earlier that her bondage consisted of a pair of black leather cuffs, one on her wrists and one on her ankles, with a chain connecting the other two chains and forcing her into a hogtie position) and his other hand skittering all over her bare soles. Now as ticklish as her feet are, even when she sees it coming and prepares herself, she still cannot endure being tickled down there (or anywhere really), but now, blindfolded and unable to sense the attack coming, this girl nearly jumped out of her skin and into Bobby’s. Her whole body from head to toe squirmed, shook, and writhed with ticklish agony, and Bobby had to sit on her ass and hold the chain with all of his might as his fingers skillfully tormented every inch of her bare feet.
Fortunately, fate intervened less than 5 minutes later in the form of somebody entering the van. Felicia hoped that it was her parents or the police or the Marines or someone, but she figured she wasn’t that lucky. And she was right. Heavy footsteps echoed through the van, stopping short just behind her. “Long time no see, Alicia,” said the chillingly-familiar masculine voice that belonged to none other than Helga. In order to further crush Felicia’s self-esteem and dignity, she would sometimes call her deliberately by the wrong name. The last time she had seen her, 3 weeks ago, she tickled Felicia until the girl admitted that her name was whatever Helga wanted it to be. Even though a strikingly similar event happened in George Orwell’s “1984”, she did not, in fact, get the idea from that book. Whatever the case, Felicia’s blood ran cold and her eyes grew wide behind her blindfold as she heard Bobby say, “Aunt Helga!!!!” At this point, Bobby hugged his uncle-like aunt, but Felicia of course could not see it, which is all right because it was totally irrelevant to everything and anything. “Are they done?” continued Bobby, with a sudden hint of disappointment in his voice. He wanted to have Felicia all to himself. Helga laughed. “Sorry, kiddo, but it’s time give her the grand tour of the club.” The cheerleader felt her whole body go numb with terror. She did not want to be trapped in some BDSM club where everybody gets off on whipping each other and everything. Now everyone knows how the Internet works, and even if you don’t look for something like hardcore BDSM it won’t matter because it will come looking for you. On more than one occasion did it find her and she thought these people in their leather outfits and their whips were scary. She had even seen those rape fantasy sites, and she could only pray that the WORST they would do to her was tickle torture her.
Almost as if on cue, Helga added, “There are plenty of patrons, especially the males, that would love to have a crack at her one way or another, if you know what I mean.”
Felicia panicked. She began screaming at full blast into her gag, screaming for someone to help her, screaming for them to not rape her, whatever screaming an 18 year old girl would do if she just found out that she was about to be thrown into a pack of rapist wolves, she screamed it. She heard one of them close the door as Helga whispered in her ear, “That won’t work, child. This van ain’t parked in the street. The soundproofing isn’t even needed right now. No one can hear you.”
This of course did not stop Felicia from screaming and trying to break out of her bondage, but rather caused her to scream and struggle more. “So, now what? Do we take her in like that?” asked Bobby. “No, put her out first.” Felicia’s screams increased in intensity upon hearing Helga’s suggestion to slip her into unconsciousness. “But I think my dad has the chloroform.” “Don’t worry, Bobby. I have a much more fun idea of how to make her pass out, though it would probably take awhile. Do you have the key to her chains?” Bobby stammered and sputtered in confusion until Felicia, who had stopped screaming, heard them whispering amongst themselves. She could not hear a word they were saying, only that they were saying words, which should hopefully be painfully obvious to everyone. Suddenly, she heard, “Wow, Aunt Helga! You’re the greatest!” She knew whatever Helga had suggested couldn’t be good. Suddenly she felt the presence of both of them one either side of her. She felt herself lifted off the ground by the chain connecting her handcuffs to her ankle cuffs, and then she felt herself fall a few feet and slam hard onto the van’s metal floor. Helga had lifted her up with one arm and dropped her just for the sake of being evil. Pain erupted in the right side of Felicia’s face, her right shoulder, her right set of ribs, her right hip, and her right thigh. Her screaming started up again louder than ever as the chain connecting the cuffs was unlocked and discarded, but her hands were still cuffed behind her back and her feet were still cuffed together. A pair of hands grabbed her arms and brought her to a standing position. It was also a learning experience for Felicia, who learned that standing and ankle cuffs do not mix.
“STAND UP, BITCH!!!!” as Helga’s massive hand slapped Felicia hard across the face. Helga was VERY strong, and Felicia didn’t even see it coming. She actually blacked out for a second, but the shock brought her back to coherency. Her face throbbed with pain, and she was thrown off balance and as a result fell backwards, the ankle cuffs preventing her from steadying herself.
She felt herself get pulled to her feet by, of all things, her left bra cup. She cooperated with the hand whose massive fingers were touching her breast and nipple and, seconds later, was standing. She began sobbing into her gag, her blindfold soaking up her tears. “I can’t believe—DON’T MAKE ME HIT YOU AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!” screamed Helga. It took every ounce of strength, but Felicia managed to just barely fight back her tears. “Now, spoiled little princess, you will stand there and not move until I say you can move. If you disobey, you will get beaten harder and harder. Understood?” asked the dominatrix. Hesitantly, nervously, Felicia nodded slightly. It was amazing how much more exposed a blindfold made you feel, not being able to see what was coming and all. Everything would be a shock and a surprise, and that heightened her body’s sensitivity. It didn’t help that she couldn’t move, or else she would fall flat on her face AND get beaten, probably on her face. Such a shame, she had such a pretty face. To top it all off, she was wearing only her bra and panties, and with so much bare flesh exposed and at their mercy, who knew what these 2 sadistic maniacs would do to this poor girl? Such a shame, she had such a pretty body. She had pretty everything, really. She was such a pretty girl. Shame.
She stood there for about half a minute, unable to see, speak, or move. Every second was infinitely more maddening than the first. As much as she tried to steel herself against any possible attacks or tortures she was most definitely about to be the victim of, her body instead seemed to go the other way on that and was feeling as sensitive and vulnerable as possible. It was amazing how a body so beautiful could be such a bitch at times.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed at her knees. She let out a startled and muffled yelp, her body stiffening. Another hand grabbed at the back of her knees, and she tried to bend her knees together in that really sexy way that models do when they pose sometimes, though she wasn’t thinking about modeling at the time. As the same hand poked her thigh, another one squeezed her ribs, causing her to double over. Suddenly the small of her back, just above her ass, was assaulted, causing her to shoot straight up. Her right inner thigh and stomach were poked next. Each time she was grabbed, another scream or squeal was produced. Helga and Bobby were too experienced to be sloppily grabbing random places. There attacks, though not planned in advance, were coordinated to cause a certain area of Felicia’s body to expose itself, which the next attack would take care of. Bobby would poke her stomach and cause her to double over, which would prompt Helga to tickle her back, causing the girl to arch her back and expose her chest. Bobby would tickle her breasts, Helga would get her calves, and so forth. They circled around her like vultures. Bobby had small, slender hands while Helga had gigantic wrecking machine mitts, so they each grabbed at certain spots to maximize the variety, and therefore Felicia’s sensitivity. There was a reason Helga was one of the most prominent tickle torture experts in the world. If each body part was only tickled by either Bobby or Helga’s hand, then that would add a degree, though an admittedly small degree, of predictability to their ticklish assaults. And Helga never showed any of her clients mercy. There was no way she was going to start with this spoiled prom queen brat.
Each attack lasted longer and longer, and squeals became giggles and giggles became full-blown laughter. Felicia felt a hand begin tickling the back of her knees while a pair of larger hands assaulted her delicate panty-line. She squirmed to avoid their tickling fingers, but the hands tickling her hypersensitive knees were too much for her, and fell to her knees. She felt the presence of the person in front of her go behind her, hooking their left arm around hers and falling backward causing Felicia to fall on top of her. A massive leg wrapped around her waist. “Get her feet!” Helga’s voice yelled right in her ear. Suddenly, she felt pressure on her ankles, pinning them to the floor. The arm that held her arms released them, instead opting to hold her head down by the nose. By the end of this stunning display of professional wrestling talent minus the steel chairs and corny speeches by large men in Speedos, Helga was laying on her back with Felicia on top of her. One hand covered her nose, causing her to only be able to breath through her gag which was very difficult, and also pinned her head to her torturer’s gigantic chest. The other hand was free to do as it pleased. Her left leg wrapped around Felicia’s waist, pinning it down and leaving her bare torso (bare except for the bra, of course) unable to move and totally vulnerable. Because Felicia wasn’t laying on the floor, but instead had her back on Helga, this caused her back to naturally arch itself, creating a protrusion of her ribs, limiting the movement of her torso, stretching her stomach taut, and just generally increasing her vulnerability. In addition, Bobby sat on her ankles and had his greedy little hands ready to unleash Hell upon her delicate size 5’s. And that’s when the massacre begun.
Helga’s hand ran across Felicia’s sides and ribs, sending the girl into muffled hysterics. Felicia could barely move her body to avoid the assault, which further heightened her ticklishness, especially when coupled with the nullification of her sense of sight and ability to speak. The blocking of the airflow through her nose, however, was affecting her ability to stay conscious and making her head spin.
But of course, that was nothing compared to Bobby’s tickling of her feet. The most ticklish part of her body, no matter how many times her feet got it, she dreaded such a terrible event. It was something her body could never get used to, she was that ticklish. Her feet wiggled, squirmed, and flexed in the cutest possible way, but they were unable to either escape Bobby’s fingers or garner enough sympathy to be shown mercy. Her feet were going to suffer unbearable tickle torture until she was out cold, and there was nothing she could do short of pass out or transform into the She-Hulk and smash the puny humans (yes I know only the Hulk said “Puny humans, Hulk will smash”, but since Felicia’s not a man…….).
For over twenty minutes, three evil hands (if hands can truly be evil) tickled her sides, ribs, tummy, waist, breasts, feet, and even dug themselves into her covered armpits. The sweat that covered her body made things easier for Helga, reducing the friction between her hand and her torso to a minimum. The gag had suppressed her laughter, but now there wasn’t much to suppress. She was too exhausted and unable to breath to put up any sort of a fight. Finally the darkness of sleep overtook her, and her body went limp in Helga’s arms.
Helga and Bobby stood up slowly. “Well that was fun!” remarked Bobby excitedly. “I LOVE tickling her!” “Ah, yes, it’s always the prettiest ones that are the most fun to tickle. They make it so easy,” said his aunt, reaching down and hoisting the limp body over her shoulder. “Well now, let’s get her inside so we can put her in some REAL bondage, not a simple hogtie. There are quite a few people in there willing to pay top dollar for a crack at this skinny little body, and they will get their money’s worth and more.” Bobby opened the door of the van and they stepped out into the morning sun. “Our little tickle slave thinks she had it bad at your house, Bobby, well we’ll show her the true definition of domination. I will take it upon myself to not just manipulate this little girl’s body, but also her mind, no matter how many months it takes. When she enters my personal dungeon, she will know the true definition of sadism, and when she meets our patrons, she will learn that her body is the property of the highest bidder, not her own.” They entered a pair of gray double doors, one of the many back entrances to the large building that housed the BDSM club. Entering a little storeroom filled with boxes, Helga opened the leftmost door which led to a stairwell. “You, you little whore, have played games with my niece and nephew too much during your years in that high school, and now you will learn that what goes around, comes around tenfold.” Coming to a door on the second subbasement level that read AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY, she reached into her pocket with free hand for a key, unlocking the door. “Felicia, or Alicia, or whatever I decide your name is, welcome to your eternal damnation.”
End of Part 6
A/N I hope I made everyone's day with this story, because I think I myself am feeling much better. Yes I'm definitely feeling slightly less depressed over that girl
. Anyhoo, please rate and review, send me money if you'd like, and hopefully I will reward you all with Part 7, even those of you who don't send me money. Until next time, surf safely! Arrgh, spyware!!!!!!
...uh...I mean 7.
