The young woman was stretched like a starfish on her double bed. Her ankles were tied directly to the posts at the foot of the bed, pulling her legs so far apart as to cause more than a little discomfort. She felt as if her hips were going to snap and that her crotch would rip wide open her legs were pulled that tight. Her arms weren't much better. The man who had tied her up had pulled her arms as tight as could be pulled before tying the ropes around her wrists to the posts at the head of the bed. Her shoulders ached. Movement was restricted to shaking her head and wiggling her fingers and toes and she could wiggle her toes because her feet were bare. She wore nothing but a pair of painter's white coveralls, with the suspenders undone and the top of the garment pulled down to her waist so that her upper body was as naked as her feet. Her dark suntan contrasted nicely with the bright white of the coveralls. There was little light in the room, which was illuminated by only a dim table lamp on the dresser. It mattered not to the woman. She could not see a thing with that blindfold on her eyes.
The woman knew what the man who had tied her up was going to do to her. He was going to tickle her. That was why she was barefoot, and her armpits, belly and breasts exposed. All her most ticklish spots were uncovered, and in wait for 10 fingers to lightly stroke the bound woman's helpless flesh. Why oh why was she in such a situation? She was both frightened and embarrassed.
Her bare belly heaved and she made some soft moaning noises. The pain she was in made her eyes moist under the tight blindfold.
"Are you afraid?" the man asked.
"Yes," answered the woman, in a voice barely above a whisper.
"You know, I really don't want to do this to you," said the man. "I'm not a fan of torture. I'm afraid, too. I'm afraid of what might happen to you when..."
"Please," said the woman in a pitiful voice, barely able to get the word past a pair of quivering lips.
The man said not a thing. The women felt him mount the bed. Without seeing she knew he had straddled her, over her waist. She gritted her teeth as she awaited his fingertips raking her naked belly.
XXXXXXXX
Shelly poured her customer a third cup of coffee. Whoever he was waiting to meet was very late and he seemed rather bored just sitting there by himself nursing his coffee and casting glances at Shelly's beautiful legs. Shelly didn't mind. She was used to it. She was beautiful and she knew it and it wasn't as if she were flirting with the man even though he was a handsome guy, maybe a few years older than herself, and, what the hell he was human after all and appeared unattached.
So was Shelly. She lived alone in a one-bedroom loft with her cat, Frank, she named after a guy she once dated. Unlike the human Frank, Shelly's cat was fixed and had no interest in females other than the two-legged one who gave him his can of tuna each night. The apartment was mainly taken up with her painting. Shelly had sold a couple of works, but still needed this waitressing job to make ends meet. It wasn't so bad. She worked four days a week and had her nights free to paint or go to the coffee shop to hear the folk singers or just sit on her fire escape and listen to the sounds of summer in the alley behind her building. Except for working like a draft horse at the diner, the summer had been good to her.
"I have to take a break now," Shelly told the customer. "Can you pay me and let the other girl take care of you if you need anything?"
"Sure," he said as he reached for his wallet to produce some money. "Hey, if you're on break, can you sit and talk with me? I'd really love the company."
Shelly had heard that one before, but she was OK with it. It's just small talk. No harm there. She sat at the chair across from his and removed her shoes from her sore feet. The two talked for a while until a woman who looked to be in her early 30s approached.
"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything, Andy dear," she said.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Shelly said. "I was just on my break and we were only..."
"Don't sweat it sweetie," answered the woman. "I'm his sister."
"Hi, Deborah," said the man. "Pull up a chair."
"No, really," Shelly said. "I should go in the back anyway."
Shelly went around the corner and plopped her tired self in the first chair she saw. She dropped her shoes next to her and stared at her very suntanned legs and feet. It really had been a good summer, hot and sunny and perfect for Shelly and her girlfriends to work on their tans. She was about as dark as she had ever been.
"So, I heard you had a date last night," Deborah said to Andy.
"Yeah, I did."
"Well, tell me all about it."
"It was OK."
"Just OK? Come on, Andy, tell me. You can give me some details. I'm your big sister, remember? I have to protect you from all those scarlet women setting their caps for you." Deborah chuckled, then continued the interrogation. "So, was she pretty?"
"Yeah, she was beautiful. She had long brown hair, like that folk singer, Judy Collins, the one you like so much."
"Good, good. Did she have a brain?"
Oh, yeah, she's a college graduate. She was very intelligent. We hit it off OK. Things were great for a while."
"So you'll see her again? When do I get to meet her?"
I don't know, sis. She's kind of weird."
"Weird? In what way?"
"Well, maybe I shouldn't tell tales out of school." Andy paused as Deborah leaned forward, dying to hear what quirks this beautiful and intelligent date of her brother's could possess.
"She wanted me to tie her up."
Deborah put her hand over her mouth. "Oh, good Lord! Did you do it?"
"Yes."
"ANDY!!!!!"
"She begged me. She pleaded with me to tie her to her bed. She was very, very insistent. I felt like I wouldn't have been let out of her room if I didn't do it...So I tied her to the posts of her bed."
"Then what happened?" asked his sister, expecting to hear a tale of raucous sexual highjinx.
"She told me to tickle her. She took off her shoes and pulled her overalls to her waist and had me tie her up and tickle her."
"You're kidding!!! You tied up this girl and tickled her? That's torture!!! Andy, how could you???"
"I told you, Deb, it was what she wanted. I told you she was weird."
"Was she ticklish?"
"Oh, man, was she ever. She laughed like a hyenia. Thrashed around, yelled bloody murder. She just went ape."
"How long did you do it?"
"A long time. I don't know. Seemed like forever. She told me not to stop no matter what she said, unless she used this code word that would signal she couldn't stand it any longer."
"Code word? What word."
"Pinto."
"Why Pinto?"
"Why not?"
There was another pregnant pause as the siblings looked at each other in a sort of disbelief.
"I think it had something to do with a guy she went out with in college. That was what I think Pinto was about."
"My God, Andy, this gal really is some kind of a nut. What was her name?"
"Oh, she had a really cool name. I've never known anyone with this name before."
Shelly overheard everything, but spent most of the time staring at her bare feet while Andy told Deborah about his date with the strange girl who wanted to be tied up and tickle-tortured. But Shelly's face became flushed when Andy spoke the name of his date. She bolted upright in the chair, shocked at what she heard from the man who had downed three cups of Joe prior to her much-needed 15-minute break.
"It was Brunella."
Shelly just couldn't wait to get off work.
THE END
The woman knew what the man who had tied her up was going to do to her. He was going to tickle her. That was why she was barefoot, and her armpits, belly and breasts exposed. All her most ticklish spots were uncovered, and in wait for 10 fingers to lightly stroke the bound woman's helpless flesh. Why oh why was she in such a situation? She was both frightened and embarrassed.
Her bare belly heaved and she made some soft moaning noises. The pain she was in made her eyes moist under the tight blindfold.
"Are you afraid?" the man asked.
"Yes," answered the woman, in a voice barely above a whisper.
"You know, I really don't want to do this to you," said the man. "I'm not a fan of torture. I'm afraid, too. I'm afraid of what might happen to you when..."
"Please," said the woman in a pitiful voice, barely able to get the word past a pair of quivering lips.
The man said not a thing. The women felt him mount the bed. Without seeing she knew he had straddled her, over her waist. She gritted her teeth as she awaited his fingertips raking her naked belly.
XXXXXXXX
Shelly poured her customer a third cup of coffee. Whoever he was waiting to meet was very late and he seemed rather bored just sitting there by himself nursing his coffee and casting glances at Shelly's beautiful legs. Shelly didn't mind. She was used to it. She was beautiful and she knew it and it wasn't as if she were flirting with the man even though he was a handsome guy, maybe a few years older than herself, and, what the hell he was human after all and appeared unattached.
So was Shelly. She lived alone in a one-bedroom loft with her cat, Frank, she named after a guy she once dated. Unlike the human Frank, Shelly's cat was fixed and had no interest in females other than the two-legged one who gave him his can of tuna each night. The apartment was mainly taken up with her painting. Shelly had sold a couple of works, but still needed this waitressing job to make ends meet. It wasn't so bad. She worked four days a week and had her nights free to paint or go to the coffee shop to hear the folk singers or just sit on her fire escape and listen to the sounds of summer in the alley behind her building. Except for working like a draft horse at the diner, the summer had been good to her.
"I have to take a break now," Shelly told the customer. "Can you pay me and let the other girl take care of you if you need anything?"
"Sure," he said as he reached for his wallet to produce some money. "Hey, if you're on break, can you sit and talk with me? I'd really love the company."
Shelly had heard that one before, but she was OK with it. It's just small talk. No harm there. She sat at the chair across from his and removed her shoes from her sore feet. The two talked for a while until a woman who looked to be in her early 30s approached.
"I do hope I'm not interrupting anything, Andy dear," she said.
"Oh, I'm sorry," Shelly said. "I was just on my break and we were only..."
"Don't sweat it sweetie," answered the woman. "I'm his sister."
"Hi, Deborah," said the man. "Pull up a chair."
"No, really," Shelly said. "I should go in the back anyway."
Shelly went around the corner and plopped her tired self in the first chair she saw. She dropped her shoes next to her and stared at her very suntanned legs and feet. It really had been a good summer, hot and sunny and perfect for Shelly and her girlfriends to work on their tans. She was about as dark as she had ever been.
"So, I heard you had a date last night," Deborah said to Andy.
"Yeah, I did."
"Well, tell me all about it."
"It was OK."
"Just OK? Come on, Andy, tell me. You can give me some details. I'm your big sister, remember? I have to protect you from all those scarlet women setting their caps for you." Deborah chuckled, then continued the interrogation. "So, was she pretty?"
"Yeah, she was beautiful. She had long brown hair, like that folk singer, Judy Collins, the one you like so much."
"Good, good. Did she have a brain?"
Oh, yeah, she's a college graduate. She was very intelligent. We hit it off OK. Things were great for a while."
"So you'll see her again? When do I get to meet her?"
I don't know, sis. She's kind of weird."
"Weird? In what way?"
"Well, maybe I shouldn't tell tales out of school." Andy paused as Deborah leaned forward, dying to hear what quirks this beautiful and intelligent date of her brother's could possess.
"She wanted me to tie her up."
Deborah put her hand over her mouth. "Oh, good Lord! Did you do it?"
"Yes."
"ANDY!!!!!"
"She begged me. She pleaded with me to tie her to her bed. She was very, very insistent. I felt like I wouldn't have been let out of her room if I didn't do it...So I tied her to the posts of her bed."
"Then what happened?" asked his sister, expecting to hear a tale of raucous sexual highjinx.
"She told me to tickle her. She took off her shoes and pulled her overalls to her waist and had me tie her up and tickle her."
"You're kidding!!! You tied up this girl and tickled her? That's torture!!! Andy, how could you???"
"I told you, Deb, it was what she wanted. I told you she was weird."
"Was she ticklish?"
"Oh, man, was she ever. She laughed like a hyenia. Thrashed around, yelled bloody murder. She just went ape."
"How long did you do it?"
"A long time. I don't know. Seemed like forever. She told me not to stop no matter what she said, unless she used this code word that would signal she couldn't stand it any longer."
"Code word? What word."
"Pinto."
"Why Pinto?"
"Why not?"
There was another pregnant pause as the siblings looked at each other in a sort of disbelief.
"I think it had something to do with a guy she went out with in college. That was what I think Pinto was about."
"My God, Andy, this gal really is some kind of a nut. What was her name?"
"Oh, she had a really cool name. I've never known anyone with this name before."
Shelly overheard everything, but spent most of the time staring at her bare feet while Andy told Deborah about his date with the strange girl who wanted to be tied up and tickle-tortured. But Shelly's face became flushed when Andy spoke the name of his date. She bolted upright in the chair, shocked at what she heard from the man who had downed three cups of Joe prior to her much-needed 15-minute break.
"It was Brunella."
Shelly just couldn't wait to get off work.
THE END
Last edited:
