PART ONE IS HERE
Jessikah just couldn’t believe her own ears. Her predicament was unbelievable, no, it was impossible.
Her day had started out normal enough. She got a call about a young couple who were interested in the “House On The Hill,” as it was called, and rushed out to greet them. She took them on a tour of the house, showed them each room, and discovered a secret basement room when Mark, the male of the couple, turned a secret lever.
She was baffled at the discovery, and in her confusion, she allowed herself into a disturbingly helpless position. Now, she regretted it.
Despite now being still nearly fully clothed, Jessikah felt terribly exposed. Her arms were bound tightly high above her head, and her ankles were secured together at the end of the table, the heels of her shoes hanging off the edge. She couldn’t pull her arms down, and she couldn’t stand up. There was no way for her to get herself out of her position without the assistance of someone else.
And, unfortunately for her, the only people who were close enough to assist her did not seem to want to do anything of the sort. In fact, their intentions seemed quite the opposite. Mark had made it clear that she was to remain in her position and withstand horrible torture until she agreed to bring down the price of the home and the surrounding land. She couldn’t do it. She refused to do it. But she didn’t know if she would have much of a choice soon.
Meg, who stood at the end of the table, facing her, was simply smiling. Her hands were at her sides, and her eyes locked with Jessikah’s as Mark spoke to her from behind. She could not see him.
“Now, I say that you are asking far too much for this property, Jess.” Mark kept himself hidden from view, standing directly behind the woman. “What do you say to…$150,000?” Mark’s fingertips gently slid from the hollows of Jessikah’s elbows, down over her biceps.
“I…” Jessikah gasped for a breath. “No…I…I can’t….” She fought with everything she had to not laugh. This was not a funny situation. “Let me go, damn it!”
“Aww, but m dear little realtor…we’re negotiating. You must make counter offers,” Mark replied. His fingertips were dangerously close to her underarms, and she knew what would happen then.
Through her labored, staggered breaths, Jessikah whispered out, “One seventy five.”
Mark chuckled softly, and Meg just continued to look at Jessikah with a cruel smile.
“Unacceptable.” Mark’s fingers began to slowly, lightly stroke the smooth, clean shaven skin of Jessikah’s helplessly exposed underarms. She burst into a fit of giggles and tried wiggling away from him. When she turned to one side, his fingers followed, and when she turned the other way, she had the same lack of success.
Jessikah’s eyes were clenched closed as she tried desperately to pull her arms or ankles free, as she wiggled back and forth. Her giggles were unstoppable, and she squealed every few seconds with a schoolgirlish tone. As upset and violated as she felt, her squealing took an almost happy tone, belying her feelings.
For long, agonizing minutes, Mark’s fingers stroked, teased, and prodded the woman’s underarms. Finally, she managed to scream out just a few words.
“Hee hee hee heehehehahahahah okay, OKAY!! Stop it, damn you! Hahaha!”
Mark leaned around and look at the woman, stopping the tickling. “Yes, Jess?”
“One fifty,” she said, still trying to regain her partially lost breath.
Mark smiled at Meg, and the young female spoke up. “Oh no, you see, jess, we’ve lost interest in that offer. Now, we want the property for one hundred grand, flat.”
Jessikah’s eyes widened. “What? No fucking way!! That’s it, I’m not playing this fucking game any more, let me out,you freaks!!” Hr voice was filled with growing anger, the flames of which could be seen in her eyes.
Meg giggled and climbed up onto the table. She pushed Jessikah’s skirt up along her thighs, revealing her legs and the small cloth patch at the crotch of her brown pantyhose. “Oh, but Jessikah, you have no choice but to play with us.” At this, Meg’s manicured, short but sharp nails descended towards Jessikah’s legs.
Jessikah though the girl was going to violate her most private place! She thrashed and cursed, trying to get loose, but Meg’s weight combined with the lack of leverage her position offered her kept her glued against the table.
“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE, YOU LESBIAN BITCH!” Jessikah yelled out. Meg only giggled as she advanced her hands. “I swear to God, if you don’t—“
Jessikah’s words were cut short but a sputter. She pressed her lips together but couldn’t escape a sudden exhale that vibrated her lips. The sensations that now shot through her legs made her clench her eyes again.
Her thigh tensed as she felt Meg’s short nails softly gliding along her sensitive, nylon covered thighs. It tickled much worse than the armpit teasing did before. Turning her head to the side, she fought her reactions, but failed within seconds.
“Pfffftttmmmaahahaha, oh God, Meg, staahahahahahapiiit!!! Nonononahahaa haahahaahhaa!!” Jessikah’s shoed feet wiggled in their leather restraints and her nylon covered thighs quivered with nerve impulses as she squealed and laughed at the touches. Meg’s nails glided up and down her defenseless, smooth thighs, sending electric bolts of sensation straight to her brain.
Meg teased the girl as she tickled her legs. “Aww, are your sexy little legs ticklish, Jessy? Does this make you laugh? Is my fifty thousand dollar offer funny to you?” Her nails raked slowly up and down the woman’s thighs, as she enjoyed her work.
“Aaahahaha but but but youuuhoohoohooohoo you said one hundred thousaaahahahahaaand!!! Eeeheheeheehee aahh God please stop!!” jessikah pled with the girl to quit the torment.
“I did no such thing,” Meg said, as her nails slid up along the curve between Jessikah’s thighs and her waist. Meg made claws and began to pinch and wiggle her nails into the helpless, giggly girl’s flesh. Jessikah almost went through the roof.
“NOOOOHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AAAAAAAAAHAHAHA IT TICKLESSS!!!” she screamed. Small beads of sweat were breaking out on her forehead, and her hair was beginning to lay against it, sticking to her skin.
“Only if you agree…” Meg continued her torment of the woman’s waist. She knew how far this would go, and wanted to see how long the realtor would last.
The metal of the link that held the ankle and wrist cuffs to the table and pole clicked against each other and Jessikah screamed her response. “OKAYOKAYOKAYAAHAHAHAHAHA FINE FIFTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!”
After a few more seconds of nearly driving the woman insane with laughter, Meg finally stopped. Jessikah hung limply in her bonds, giggling softly and gasping for breath. After a few moments, she spoke again.
“Fifty…thousand…dollars….now let me go so I can get the paperwork from my purse, damnit…” she said, breathily.
Mark, who stood behind the woman the whole time, watching, slowly walked around in front of her, next to his fiancée. He smiled at Jessikah. Then he looked at his companion, and asked, “How much money do you think I have in my wallet, sweetie?”
Meg looked up at him, since he stood almost a full head and shoulder taller than she. “I don’t know, twenty bucks?”
Mark reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Opening it, he slid out a solitary one dollar bill. “Nope, just a buck.” He laid it on Jessikah’s waist, on top of her bunched up skirt that now offered her pantyhosed crotch no protection against prying eyes. “And that is what we will pay for this property.”
Jessikah’s eyes were now wide as dinner plates. This couldn’t be happening. One dollar for a property worth more than two hundred thousand times that? No fucking way, she thought. These people are psycho.
Perhaps they were. But they were also determined.
Meg and Mark simultaneously began unbuckling Jessikah’s shoes. The trapped girl clenched her toes and started to beg.
“No no no please, not my feet, please, you don’t understand!” Her voice cracked, as if she were on the verge of tears.
“Then accept our offer.” Mark said, as he wrestled her shoe off her left pantyhosed foot. Meg did the same with the right shoe.
“I, I can’t, I’ll lose my job and be the laughing stock of the whole business, please, you’ll ruin me, God please help me!!”
“God can’t help you now,” Meg said, as she slowly stroked one nail up along Jessikah’s smooth, nylon covered right sole. Mark followed suit and slid a fingertip along her left foot.
Jessikah screamed. The intense, ticklish, slippery feelings coming from her feet were going to break her brain and drive her into the asylum. Within seconds, the single fingers on each sole had her begging for mercy and babbling about how she just couldn’t accept their offer.
“Please nononhahahahahaa hahaha oh God no I cahahahan’t do it pleeehee hee hee heeeeze!! Haaahahahahaha it’s too much ooohh gaahahahahawd!!” Her nyloned toes wriggled wildly in a vain attempt to escape her torturer’s fingers, and her brown, silky nylon pantyhose only made the torture ten times worse, as their finger and nail slid that much more easily over her hyper ticklish soles.
“Yes you can, sweetie, and you will…” Mark threatened, as he added a second fingertip to her foot. He loved the feeling of his fingertips sliding up and down her helplessly ticklish nyloned sole, the vision of her foot encased in the ticklish-increasing material giving him a power rush. The only thing better than those feelings was knowing his fiancée, the woman he loved more than anything in the world, was right there beside him, assisting in the woman’s torture, and truly enjoying it as much as, or possibly even more than, he was.
Meg followed suit and added a second sharp, torturous nail to the realtor’s helplessly ticklish arch. Her nails glided effortlessly over the nyloned sole of the woman, following her foot’s every attempt at escape. She couldn’t suppress the grin of pleasure she took from watching this woman flail powerlessly, in the throes of ticklish agony, caught between merciless torture or the end of her career.
“AAAHAHAHA FUCKFUCK FUCK IT TICKLESS AHAHAHAHAAHA PLEASE STOP YOU’RE KILLING MEEEEHEEHEE HEE HEE HEEE!!!!” Jessikah had long since broken into a sweat now, her thrashing head doing nothing to free the strands of hair that were now plastered to her forehead. Her toes wiggle frantically as she tried so hard to move her feet away from her captor’s hands.
Jessikah thought she was being tickled cruelly, but nothing could prepare her for the next few seconds of her torment.
Mark smiled at Meg, and grabbed the toes of Jessikah’s left foot with one hand. He then viciously raked all four fingers and his thumb up and down Jessikah’s absolutely defenseless, immobile, nyloned sole. It was like the woman had been shocked with ten million volts of electricity.
This was one of two tactics that poor Jessikah felt from her family as a child. The other would be discovered later.
Jessikah’s eyes rolled back into her head. She let loose a blood curdling scream that echoed off the walls of the empty house. Then, she fell into a fit of uncontrollable, hysterical, screaming laughter.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!! AAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA OOONNNNOOOOOO AHAHAHAHAHA AAHAAHAAA PLEEEEEEZE HAAHAHA NOT THAAAAHAHAAHT!!!”
Meg smiled, and bent the toes of the woman’s right foot back as well, exposing and stretching out her taut arch and heel. She giggled as she raped Jessikah’s foot with her sharp nails. Dragging them up and down over the woman’s soft, sensitive, slick sole brought nothing but power and happiness to her heart.
Jessikah’s voice cracked in mid scream. Unable to regain her voice through her breathless, havocy laughter, she simply slumped against the pole she leant against and laughed silently, breath escaping her lungs and seeping back in slowly. She could no longer move her body at all, as her entire strength was now devoted to one cause: breathing. This was not of her choice, however. The cruel, intense sensations originating from her nyloned, hyper ticklish soles invaded her mind and erased any conscious thoughts or ideas. She could think of nothing but the incredible torture at her feet, letalone muster the ability to form words.
The odd gasping sounds let the young engaged couple know that they were almost there. They continued to mercilessly stroke and rake their fingertips and nails up and down Jessikah’s helpless, immobile soles, their hands slipping over the nylons that covered Jessikah’s feet with ease.
The realtor had lost perception of time. She could do nothing but silently scream, laughing her heart out unabated but for the small gasping breaths she managed to draw in. Tears dripped from her eyes and coursed down her cheeks, wetting her white halter top with a drop or two every few seconds.
Finally, after half an hour of torturing the poor woman’s helpless soles, Mark noticed a strange quietness about her. Her breathing was slipping away, and the small jerks that she managed to muster to get away from the sensations were fewer and further in between. He smiled at Meg as Jessikah slipped into unconsciousness.
She had been broken. But would she agree to their terms for the property? That was the important question.
“You know, Mark…” Meg started.
“Yes, I do.” He replied, before she could finish her sentence.
The intense torture of the woman had gotten them both extremely worked up. They had had a mutual tickling fetish since they were but a young couple, hardly having been together a few weeks. They didn’t even make it back upstairs. Right there on the floor of the small dungeon, they made love.
A couple hours later, Jessikah began to stir. Her tear blurred eyes opened, and she saw the two she feared the most. Only this time, they seemed softer.
Mark smiled at her and spoke gently, standing next to her at the table. “Do you accept out offer, of one dollar for this entire property?”
Jessikah’s voice was soft, but very hoarse. “I…I can’t…I’m sorry…please…let me…let me go…I won’t call the police, I’ll, I’ll forget this all happened, just, please let me go…”
Mark ticked his tongue at her. “Oh, you poor dear. After all that, you still want more?” Mark looked down at Meg, who had taken her position kneeling at Jessikah’s nyloned soles. He nodded to his fiancée.
Meg leaned over and gripped the toes of Jessikah’s nylons with her teeth. A loud tearing sound was heard, twice, and within seconds, the helpless realtor’s feet were bared. Her soles were pale, with high arches, and Meg ran her palms along the woman’s soles.
“Very soft,” she said. “Are they just as ticklish when bare?” she asked rhetorically.
“No, please…no more…” Jessikah begged pitifully. Meg’s nails began to slowly, lightly course over both of Jessikah’s bare feet. “Hehehe..no please, my sides..ehehe they hurt…uuuhhhhahahahaah please!” Jessikah’s toes wiggle weakly. Her body was broken, but her mind was not.
“Jessikah, Meg and I have done this with each other for a long time…and over the time we’ve been together, I have found every ticklish spot known to women.” Mark walked behind the realtor, and slowly lifted her halter top up, exposing her white underwire bra. Mark glanced at his fiancée, and she nodded. He unclasped the giggling, shaking woman’s bra, and twined it around her wrists. Her shapely, jiggling breasts were exposed for full view. Though she blushed furiously in embarrassment, she couldn’t stop giggling long enough to protest, as Meg’s fingernails lightly coursed up and down her bare, soft soles.
Mark whispered into her ear, knowing she’d fear him more if he were soft with her. “Tell me…are your breasts ticklish?”
Jessikah only could whimper her weak reply, her eyes pleading with him not to touch her there.
As Meg’s nails began to speed up and thus increase the giggles and hoarse laughs from their captive, Mark gently began to squeeze and fondle Jessikah’s chest. The woman tried to move away, but as was proved time and time again earlier, she just couldn’t.
Mark gently began to press a little deeper into Jessikah’s all natural, cushy breasts. She never had her tits tickled before, but she was rapidly finding out just how sensitive they were.
Her giggles mounted as the dual sensations, those from her bare, smooth soles, and those from her jiggling, sensitive chest, merged in her mind. Mark gently patted on the tops of her breasts, making them bounce up and down. Her giggly laughter began to turn to a sobbing, hysterical laughter as this, combined with Meg’s nails digging in underneath her toes, made her feel just as tickled as earlier. She was tired and couldn’t laugh as hard, and her ribs and tummy ached, but she couldn’t stop them, no matter how uncomfortable she was.
Her cheeks were flushed with pink and her nipples grew involuntarily stiff as she wiggled and began hoarsely screaming for mercy from her ticklish torment. She couldn’t stand it, and she could feel her bladder beginning to weaken. In the back of her mind, she cursed the bottled water she had finished off just before getting the call from her superior, and not having used the bathroom to rid herself of the extra water.
“Meg, it’s time.” That was all mark said, and both torturers went into the final phase of Jessikah’s extreme torture.
Meg leaned forward and wrapped her moist lips around both big toes of Jessikah’s feet. She sucked on the woman’s toes sensuously as she held them back with her teeth, stretching out her soles and beginning a vicious, all out attack on her arches, heels, and the sides of her bare feet with those cruel nails. Jessikah threw her head back and cried tears of tortured agony as she laughed and screamed through her hoarse throat.
Mark jiggled, prodded, and stroked all around Jessikah’s breasts and nipples. The unimaginable sensations from this went straight to her brain and forced her to laugh even harder, breath barely making it into her lungs. Her mind was set on only one thing, and that was for this torture to stop.
She wanted to beg for them to give her a break, to tell them that she needed to pee so badly, but she couldn’t speak, she could only laugh. Her ribs hurt, her tummy ached, and she had never felt so violated or helpless in her life, nor had she ever been tickle tortured so cruelly and completely.
Then, she lost control. Her toes wiggled rapidly inside Meg’s mouth, her soles quivering under the cruel treatment they received from her nails, as she tried one last time to beg for mercy, but she couldn’t do it. Her bladder squeezed and her groin muscles failed. As Mark’s hands prodded, jiggled, and poked her sensitive breasts, and Meg’s mouth sucked on her toes and her nails tickled her arches, she began to wet herself.
A small patch of darkness quickly spread down her nylon-covered legs. She could feel the warm liquid streaming underneath her rear end, and creeping somewhat up towards her waist. She could feel herself squirting against her panties and nylons, and her embarrassment was finally complete.
As Mark and Meg watched the wet stain spread over the woman’s thighs and buttocks, they continued their torture of the woman. She was wriggling and screaming hoarsely, laughing like a mad woman, and her bodily functions were far gone from control. She felt her crotch squirting out the last remnants of urine into her clothing, and her mind finally snapped. The end of her career was worth ending this. It didn’t matter to her now.
For twenty five more minutes, Mark and Meg viciously tickled and tortured the woman. Meg with her tongue between Jessikah’s toes, her nails up and down her arches and heels. Mark with his fingertips prodding, poking, and stroking her breasts, and every now and then, her ribs and underarms. Her nose was invaded by the pungent smell of her own urine as she gasped and fought for breath. Her cheeks were stained with the salty track of tears that had been shed unabated for an unknown time.
During this session, Mark explained into her ear that when the couple arrived early, Mark stumbled upon the light fixture and discovered the secret room. He told her how they planned this whole ordeal, and how they knew she would cave in eventually.
Finally, the torture stopped. Jessikah hung limply from her bonds, not able to move a muscle. She was so weak now…she couldn’t even open her eyes to bat away the tears of laughter that clung to her lashes.
She could faintly hear the motor of the elevator as Mark used it to get her purse from upstairs. Meg remained at Jessikah’s feet, gently stroking her nails up and down the bare soles, but just hardly touching them. Every now and then Jessikah’s foot would twitch and she would giggle softly.
Mark soon cam back down with the realtor’s purse. He rifled through and found the sales paperwork. Reading through it, he filled in the appropriate information with a pen he also found in her purse. In the “TOTAL AMOUNT AGREED FOR PURCHASE” box, he filled in $1.00.
He unshackled Jessikah’s right wrist, and pushed the pen into her hand. He laid the paper on a dry section of the table, and, weakly, she signed it. Her thoughts were foggy, but she knew that under the line, it mentions that all parties signing on the contract were NOT signing under duress and were doing so of their own free will. There would be no backing out of this, unless she could convince the police that the buyers were torturers and kidnappers. But who would they believe? A smart, young couple, about to be married, or a disheveled, jobless realtor who claims to have been tickle tortured, of all things, into signing a contract?
Mark rifled through her purse again, and found her photo ID, Social Security card, and a few other important documents. Meg, standing up from the woman’s bare feet, took the documentation from him. He whispered into Jessikah’s ear softly.
“If you ever tell anyone about what happened here, we will come and find you…strip you naked…tie you down…tickle you for days on end…I will rape you and Meg will beat you…you won’t see the light of day ever again, and we will use you as out personal sexual toy until the day you die. Do you understand?”
Jessikah broke down into tears again, sobbing pitifully and hoarsely. Her life was over, but at least she wasn’t dead. She wished she was. She nodded slowly as tears dripped onto her shirt, which was already rather wet.
Meg and Mark unshackled her wrist and ankles, and got her belongings together. They helped her to her car, gave her the signed paperwork, and instructed her to go directly home, clean up, change, and go to her office to turn in the paper work. What she did after that, they didn’t care, as long as she followed Mark’s instructions.
A few weeks later, Mark was sitting at the kitchen table of his new, beautiful, fully paid home, reading the paper, with his fiancée sitting across from him, eating her breakfast. Mark grinned and slid the paper over to her as he sipped his coffee.
Meg read the small story, printed in black and white.
The headline read: “Local Failed Realtor Found Dead In Apartment, Apparent Suicide”
Jessikah just couldn’t believe her own ears. Her predicament was unbelievable, no, it was impossible.
Her day had started out normal enough. She got a call about a young couple who were interested in the “House On The Hill,” as it was called, and rushed out to greet them. She took them on a tour of the house, showed them each room, and discovered a secret basement room when Mark, the male of the couple, turned a secret lever.
She was baffled at the discovery, and in her confusion, she allowed herself into a disturbingly helpless position. Now, she regretted it.
Despite now being still nearly fully clothed, Jessikah felt terribly exposed. Her arms were bound tightly high above her head, and her ankles were secured together at the end of the table, the heels of her shoes hanging off the edge. She couldn’t pull her arms down, and she couldn’t stand up. There was no way for her to get herself out of her position without the assistance of someone else.
And, unfortunately for her, the only people who were close enough to assist her did not seem to want to do anything of the sort. In fact, their intentions seemed quite the opposite. Mark had made it clear that she was to remain in her position and withstand horrible torture until she agreed to bring down the price of the home and the surrounding land. She couldn’t do it. She refused to do it. But she didn’t know if she would have much of a choice soon.
Meg, who stood at the end of the table, facing her, was simply smiling. Her hands were at her sides, and her eyes locked with Jessikah’s as Mark spoke to her from behind. She could not see him.
“Now, I say that you are asking far too much for this property, Jess.” Mark kept himself hidden from view, standing directly behind the woman. “What do you say to…$150,000?” Mark’s fingertips gently slid from the hollows of Jessikah’s elbows, down over her biceps.
“I…” Jessikah gasped for a breath. “No…I…I can’t….” She fought with everything she had to not laugh. This was not a funny situation. “Let me go, damn it!”
“Aww, but m dear little realtor…we’re negotiating. You must make counter offers,” Mark replied. His fingertips were dangerously close to her underarms, and she knew what would happen then.
Through her labored, staggered breaths, Jessikah whispered out, “One seventy five.”
Mark chuckled softly, and Meg just continued to look at Jessikah with a cruel smile.
“Unacceptable.” Mark’s fingers began to slowly, lightly stroke the smooth, clean shaven skin of Jessikah’s helplessly exposed underarms. She burst into a fit of giggles and tried wiggling away from him. When she turned to one side, his fingers followed, and when she turned the other way, she had the same lack of success.
Jessikah’s eyes were clenched closed as she tried desperately to pull her arms or ankles free, as she wiggled back and forth. Her giggles were unstoppable, and she squealed every few seconds with a schoolgirlish tone. As upset and violated as she felt, her squealing took an almost happy tone, belying her feelings.
For long, agonizing minutes, Mark’s fingers stroked, teased, and prodded the woman’s underarms. Finally, she managed to scream out just a few words.
“Hee hee hee heehehehahahahah okay, OKAY!! Stop it, damn you! Hahaha!”
Mark leaned around and look at the woman, stopping the tickling. “Yes, Jess?”
“One fifty,” she said, still trying to regain her partially lost breath.
Mark smiled at Meg, and the young female spoke up. “Oh no, you see, jess, we’ve lost interest in that offer. Now, we want the property for one hundred grand, flat.”
Jessikah’s eyes widened. “What? No fucking way!! That’s it, I’m not playing this fucking game any more, let me out,you freaks!!” Hr voice was filled with growing anger, the flames of which could be seen in her eyes.
Meg giggled and climbed up onto the table. She pushed Jessikah’s skirt up along her thighs, revealing her legs and the small cloth patch at the crotch of her brown pantyhose. “Oh, but Jessikah, you have no choice but to play with us.” At this, Meg’s manicured, short but sharp nails descended towards Jessikah’s legs.
Jessikah though the girl was going to violate her most private place! She thrashed and cursed, trying to get loose, but Meg’s weight combined with the lack of leverage her position offered her kept her glued against the table.
“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE, YOU LESBIAN BITCH!” Jessikah yelled out. Meg only giggled as she advanced her hands. “I swear to God, if you don’t—“
Jessikah’s words were cut short but a sputter. She pressed her lips together but couldn’t escape a sudden exhale that vibrated her lips. The sensations that now shot through her legs made her clench her eyes again.
Her thigh tensed as she felt Meg’s short nails softly gliding along her sensitive, nylon covered thighs. It tickled much worse than the armpit teasing did before. Turning her head to the side, she fought her reactions, but failed within seconds.
“Pfffftttmmmaahahaha, oh God, Meg, staahahahahahapiiit!!! Nonononahahaa haahahaahhaa!!” Jessikah’s shoed feet wiggled in their leather restraints and her nylon covered thighs quivered with nerve impulses as she squealed and laughed at the touches. Meg’s nails glided up and down her defenseless, smooth thighs, sending electric bolts of sensation straight to her brain.
Meg teased the girl as she tickled her legs. “Aww, are your sexy little legs ticklish, Jessy? Does this make you laugh? Is my fifty thousand dollar offer funny to you?” Her nails raked slowly up and down the woman’s thighs, as she enjoyed her work.
“Aaahahaha but but but youuuhoohoohooohoo you said one hundred thousaaahahahahaaand!!! Eeeheheeheehee aahh God please stop!!” jessikah pled with the girl to quit the torment.
“I did no such thing,” Meg said, as her nails slid up along the curve between Jessikah’s thighs and her waist. Meg made claws and began to pinch and wiggle her nails into the helpless, giggly girl’s flesh. Jessikah almost went through the roof.
“NOOOOHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AAAAAAAAAHAHAHA IT TICKLESSS!!!” she screamed. Small beads of sweat were breaking out on her forehead, and her hair was beginning to lay against it, sticking to her skin.
“Only if you agree…” Meg continued her torment of the woman’s waist. She knew how far this would go, and wanted to see how long the realtor would last.
The metal of the link that held the ankle and wrist cuffs to the table and pole clicked against each other and Jessikah screamed her response. “OKAYOKAYOKAYAAHAHAHAHAHA FINE FIFTEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!”
After a few more seconds of nearly driving the woman insane with laughter, Meg finally stopped. Jessikah hung limply in her bonds, giggling softly and gasping for breath. After a few moments, she spoke again.
“Fifty…thousand…dollars….now let me go so I can get the paperwork from my purse, damnit…” she said, breathily.
Mark, who stood behind the woman the whole time, watching, slowly walked around in front of her, next to his fiancée. He smiled at Jessikah. Then he looked at his companion, and asked, “How much money do you think I have in my wallet, sweetie?”
Meg looked up at him, since he stood almost a full head and shoulder taller than she. “I don’t know, twenty bucks?”
Mark reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Opening it, he slid out a solitary one dollar bill. “Nope, just a buck.” He laid it on Jessikah’s waist, on top of her bunched up skirt that now offered her pantyhosed crotch no protection against prying eyes. “And that is what we will pay for this property.”
Jessikah’s eyes were now wide as dinner plates. This couldn’t be happening. One dollar for a property worth more than two hundred thousand times that? No fucking way, she thought. These people are psycho.
Perhaps they were. But they were also determined.
Meg and Mark simultaneously began unbuckling Jessikah’s shoes. The trapped girl clenched her toes and started to beg.
“No no no please, not my feet, please, you don’t understand!” Her voice cracked, as if she were on the verge of tears.
“Then accept our offer.” Mark said, as he wrestled her shoe off her left pantyhosed foot. Meg did the same with the right shoe.
“I, I can’t, I’ll lose my job and be the laughing stock of the whole business, please, you’ll ruin me, God please help me!!”
“God can’t help you now,” Meg said, as she slowly stroked one nail up along Jessikah’s smooth, nylon covered right sole. Mark followed suit and slid a fingertip along her left foot.
Jessikah screamed. The intense, ticklish, slippery feelings coming from her feet were going to break her brain and drive her into the asylum. Within seconds, the single fingers on each sole had her begging for mercy and babbling about how she just couldn’t accept their offer.
“Please nononhahahahahaa hahaha oh God no I cahahahan’t do it pleeehee hee hee heeeeze!! Haaahahahahaha it’s too much ooohh gaahahahahawd!!” Her nyloned toes wriggled wildly in a vain attempt to escape her torturer’s fingers, and her brown, silky nylon pantyhose only made the torture ten times worse, as their finger and nail slid that much more easily over her hyper ticklish soles.
“Yes you can, sweetie, and you will…” Mark threatened, as he added a second fingertip to her foot. He loved the feeling of his fingertips sliding up and down her helplessly ticklish nyloned sole, the vision of her foot encased in the ticklish-increasing material giving him a power rush. The only thing better than those feelings was knowing his fiancée, the woman he loved more than anything in the world, was right there beside him, assisting in the woman’s torture, and truly enjoying it as much as, or possibly even more than, he was.
Meg followed suit and added a second sharp, torturous nail to the realtor’s helplessly ticklish arch. Her nails glided effortlessly over the nyloned sole of the woman, following her foot’s every attempt at escape. She couldn’t suppress the grin of pleasure she took from watching this woman flail powerlessly, in the throes of ticklish agony, caught between merciless torture or the end of her career.
“AAAHAHAHA FUCKFUCK FUCK IT TICKLESS AHAHAHAHAAHA PLEASE STOP YOU’RE KILLING MEEEEHEEHEE HEE HEE HEEE!!!!” Jessikah had long since broken into a sweat now, her thrashing head doing nothing to free the strands of hair that were now plastered to her forehead. Her toes wiggle frantically as she tried so hard to move her feet away from her captor’s hands.
Jessikah thought she was being tickled cruelly, but nothing could prepare her for the next few seconds of her torment.
Mark smiled at Meg, and grabbed the toes of Jessikah’s left foot with one hand. He then viciously raked all four fingers and his thumb up and down Jessikah’s absolutely defenseless, immobile, nyloned sole. It was like the woman had been shocked with ten million volts of electricity.
This was one of two tactics that poor Jessikah felt from her family as a child. The other would be discovered later.
Jessikah’s eyes rolled back into her head. She let loose a blood curdling scream that echoed off the walls of the empty house. Then, she fell into a fit of uncontrollable, hysterical, screaming laughter.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!! AAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA OOONNNNOOOOOO AHAHAHAHAHA AAHAAHAAA PLEEEEEEZE HAAHAHA NOT THAAAAHAHAAHT!!!”
Meg smiled, and bent the toes of the woman’s right foot back as well, exposing and stretching out her taut arch and heel. She giggled as she raped Jessikah’s foot with her sharp nails. Dragging them up and down over the woman’s soft, sensitive, slick sole brought nothing but power and happiness to her heart.
Jessikah’s voice cracked in mid scream. Unable to regain her voice through her breathless, havocy laughter, she simply slumped against the pole she leant against and laughed silently, breath escaping her lungs and seeping back in slowly. She could no longer move her body at all, as her entire strength was now devoted to one cause: breathing. This was not of her choice, however. The cruel, intense sensations originating from her nyloned, hyper ticklish soles invaded her mind and erased any conscious thoughts or ideas. She could think of nothing but the incredible torture at her feet, letalone muster the ability to form words.
The odd gasping sounds let the young engaged couple know that they were almost there. They continued to mercilessly stroke and rake their fingertips and nails up and down Jessikah’s helpless, immobile soles, their hands slipping over the nylons that covered Jessikah’s feet with ease.
The realtor had lost perception of time. She could do nothing but silently scream, laughing her heart out unabated but for the small gasping breaths she managed to draw in. Tears dripped from her eyes and coursed down her cheeks, wetting her white halter top with a drop or two every few seconds.
Finally, after half an hour of torturing the poor woman’s helpless soles, Mark noticed a strange quietness about her. Her breathing was slipping away, and the small jerks that she managed to muster to get away from the sensations were fewer and further in between. He smiled at Meg as Jessikah slipped into unconsciousness.
She had been broken. But would she agree to their terms for the property? That was the important question.
“You know, Mark…” Meg started.
“Yes, I do.” He replied, before she could finish her sentence.
The intense torture of the woman had gotten them both extremely worked up. They had had a mutual tickling fetish since they were but a young couple, hardly having been together a few weeks. They didn’t even make it back upstairs. Right there on the floor of the small dungeon, they made love.
A couple hours later, Jessikah began to stir. Her tear blurred eyes opened, and she saw the two she feared the most. Only this time, they seemed softer.
Mark smiled at her and spoke gently, standing next to her at the table. “Do you accept out offer, of one dollar for this entire property?”
Jessikah’s voice was soft, but very hoarse. “I…I can’t…I’m sorry…please…let me…let me go…I won’t call the police, I’ll, I’ll forget this all happened, just, please let me go…”
Mark ticked his tongue at her. “Oh, you poor dear. After all that, you still want more?” Mark looked down at Meg, who had taken her position kneeling at Jessikah’s nyloned soles. He nodded to his fiancée.
Meg leaned over and gripped the toes of Jessikah’s nylons with her teeth. A loud tearing sound was heard, twice, and within seconds, the helpless realtor’s feet were bared. Her soles were pale, with high arches, and Meg ran her palms along the woman’s soles.
“Very soft,” she said. “Are they just as ticklish when bare?” she asked rhetorically.
“No, please…no more…” Jessikah begged pitifully. Meg’s nails began to slowly, lightly course over both of Jessikah’s bare feet. “Hehehe..no please, my sides..ehehe they hurt…uuuhhhhahahahaah please!” Jessikah’s toes wiggle weakly. Her body was broken, but her mind was not.
“Jessikah, Meg and I have done this with each other for a long time…and over the time we’ve been together, I have found every ticklish spot known to women.” Mark walked behind the realtor, and slowly lifted her halter top up, exposing her white underwire bra. Mark glanced at his fiancée, and she nodded. He unclasped the giggling, shaking woman’s bra, and twined it around her wrists. Her shapely, jiggling breasts were exposed for full view. Though she blushed furiously in embarrassment, she couldn’t stop giggling long enough to protest, as Meg’s fingernails lightly coursed up and down her bare, soft soles.
Mark whispered into her ear, knowing she’d fear him more if he were soft with her. “Tell me…are your breasts ticklish?”
Jessikah only could whimper her weak reply, her eyes pleading with him not to touch her there.
As Meg’s nails began to speed up and thus increase the giggles and hoarse laughs from their captive, Mark gently began to squeeze and fondle Jessikah’s chest. The woman tried to move away, but as was proved time and time again earlier, she just couldn’t.
Mark gently began to press a little deeper into Jessikah’s all natural, cushy breasts. She never had her tits tickled before, but she was rapidly finding out just how sensitive they were.
Her giggles mounted as the dual sensations, those from her bare, smooth soles, and those from her jiggling, sensitive chest, merged in her mind. Mark gently patted on the tops of her breasts, making them bounce up and down. Her giggly laughter began to turn to a sobbing, hysterical laughter as this, combined with Meg’s nails digging in underneath her toes, made her feel just as tickled as earlier. She was tired and couldn’t laugh as hard, and her ribs and tummy ached, but she couldn’t stop them, no matter how uncomfortable she was.
Her cheeks were flushed with pink and her nipples grew involuntarily stiff as she wiggled and began hoarsely screaming for mercy from her ticklish torment. She couldn’t stand it, and she could feel her bladder beginning to weaken. In the back of her mind, she cursed the bottled water she had finished off just before getting the call from her superior, and not having used the bathroom to rid herself of the extra water.
“Meg, it’s time.” That was all mark said, and both torturers went into the final phase of Jessikah’s extreme torture.
Meg leaned forward and wrapped her moist lips around both big toes of Jessikah’s feet. She sucked on the woman’s toes sensuously as she held them back with her teeth, stretching out her soles and beginning a vicious, all out attack on her arches, heels, and the sides of her bare feet with those cruel nails. Jessikah threw her head back and cried tears of tortured agony as she laughed and screamed through her hoarse throat.
Mark jiggled, prodded, and stroked all around Jessikah’s breasts and nipples. The unimaginable sensations from this went straight to her brain and forced her to laugh even harder, breath barely making it into her lungs. Her mind was set on only one thing, and that was for this torture to stop.
She wanted to beg for them to give her a break, to tell them that she needed to pee so badly, but she couldn’t speak, she could only laugh. Her ribs hurt, her tummy ached, and she had never felt so violated or helpless in her life, nor had she ever been tickle tortured so cruelly and completely.
Then, she lost control. Her toes wiggled rapidly inside Meg’s mouth, her soles quivering under the cruel treatment they received from her nails, as she tried one last time to beg for mercy, but she couldn’t do it. Her bladder squeezed and her groin muscles failed. As Mark’s hands prodded, jiggled, and poked her sensitive breasts, and Meg’s mouth sucked on her toes and her nails tickled her arches, she began to wet herself.
A small patch of darkness quickly spread down her nylon-covered legs. She could feel the warm liquid streaming underneath her rear end, and creeping somewhat up towards her waist. She could feel herself squirting against her panties and nylons, and her embarrassment was finally complete.
As Mark and Meg watched the wet stain spread over the woman’s thighs and buttocks, they continued their torture of the woman. She was wriggling and screaming hoarsely, laughing like a mad woman, and her bodily functions were far gone from control. She felt her crotch squirting out the last remnants of urine into her clothing, and her mind finally snapped. The end of her career was worth ending this. It didn’t matter to her now.
For twenty five more minutes, Mark and Meg viciously tickled and tortured the woman. Meg with her tongue between Jessikah’s toes, her nails up and down her arches and heels. Mark with his fingertips prodding, poking, and stroking her breasts, and every now and then, her ribs and underarms. Her nose was invaded by the pungent smell of her own urine as she gasped and fought for breath. Her cheeks were stained with the salty track of tears that had been shed unabated for an unknown time.
During this session, Mark explained into her ear that when the couple arrived early, Mark stumbled upon the light fixture and discovered the secret room. He told her how they planned this whole ordeal, and how they knew she would cave in eventually.
Finally, the torture stopped. Jessikah hung limply from her bonds, not able to move a muscle. She was so weak now…she couldn’t even open her eyes to bat away the tears of laughter that clung to her lashes.
She could faintly hear the motor of the elevator as Mark used it to get her purse from upstairs. Meg remained at Jessikah’s feet, gently stroking her nails up and down the bare soles, but just hardly touching them. Every now and then Jessikah’s foot would twitch and she would giggle softly.
Mark soon cam back down with the realtor’s purse. He rifled through and found the sales paperwork. Reading through it, he filled in the appropriate information with a pen he also found in her purse. In the “TOTAL AMOUNT AGREED FOR PURCHASE” box, he filled in $1.00.
He unshackled Jessikah’s right wrist, and pushed the pen into her hand. He laid the paper on a dry section of the table, and, weakly, she signed it. Her thoughts were foggy, but she knew that under the line, it mentions that all parties signing on the contract were NOT signing under duress and were doing so of their own free will. There would be no backing out of this, unless she could convince the police that the buyers were torturers and kidnappers. But who would they believe? A smart, young couple, about to be married, or a disheveled, jobless realtor who claims to have been tickle tortured, of all things, into signing a contract?
Mark rifled through her purse again, and found her photo ID, Social Security card, and a few other important documents. Meg, standing up from the woman’s bare feet, took the documentation from him. He whispered into Jessikah’s ear softly.
“If you ever tell anyone about what happened here, we will come and find you…strip you naked…tie you down…tickle you for days on end…I will rape you and Meg will beat you…you won’t see the light of day ever again, and we will use you as out personal sexual toy until the day you die. Do you understand?”
Jessikah broke down into tears again, sobbing pitifully and hoarsely. Her life was over, but at least she wasn’t dead. She wished she was. She nodded slowly as tears dripped onto her shirt, which was already rather wet.
Meg and Mark unshackled her wrist and ankles, and got her belongings together. They helped her to her car, gave her the signed paperwork, and instructed her to go directly home, clean up, change, and go to her office to turn in the paper work. What she did after that, they didn’t care, as long as she followed Mark’s instructions.
A few weeks later, Mark was sitting at the kitchen table of his new, beautiful, fully paid home, reading the paper, with his fiancée sitting across from him, eating her breakfast. Mark grinned and slid the paper over to her as he sipped his coffee.
Meg read the small story, printed in black and white.
The headline read: “Local Failed Realtor Found Dead In Apartment, Apparent Suicide”
