Room 103 Part 1
I highly suggest that you open part 1 in another tab to get caught up on the backstory. As always, I love feedback!
Room 103
Part 2
by
Kid Indy
"Now we need you to tell us what this message means."
Phan Cong Son's sexual reverie ran cold as she realized what the blond businessman was asking for. "That'll never happen, you corporate scum. I'll die before I let you know what they sent me."
Mr. Johnson did not seem troubled. He folded the paper in quarters and put it in his suit jacket's pocket. "No, you won't be dying, and yes, you will tell us what the message says. Let her have half an hour to make up her mind."
"NO! Don't leave me with that pervert!" But Mr. Johnson had already shut the door behind him.
Xiang swept with slinking step behind Son and began again to whisper in her ear: "Ah, my pet! You've decided to come back to me!"
She turned defiantly and stared into Xiang's eyes. "I decided to stay loyal to my cause. Nothing you can do to me will change that."
His snakish lips curled into a closed, leering grin. "I've heard prouder women than you deny the attraction. But you see, as much as your pride hates to lose control, your soul, the sex that makes you who you are, that makes you run back to me. We can't help but be who we are, Miss Phan. Causes or no causes, you want more of what you just got."
She looked forward, away from Xiang, with resolve. "I'll never want you, no matter how much that pains you."
"No, Miss Phan, you'll never be able to resist me again. In the back of your mind, you'll know that what just happened to you--" He drew a finger up one side of her ribcage, making her curl away from his hand-- "and what's about to happen to you--" His other hand made her torso twist back towards the first hand-- "is what your body has always wanted and will always want."
Son attempted strong silence.
"But since we have thirty minutes together, there's no need to go to extremes just yet. I'd rather break you using my own skills, then push you out of your mind again just before the questions start coming again. What do you say to that?"
Son looked forward, her muscles tensing even as she tried to feign stoicism. She still sat in her chair as one might sit at a dentist's office, arms down at her sides and feet out in front of her.
Xiang walked to the front of the chair and began to roll Son's remaining sock down her ankle. She could feel her heart beating faster. With meticulous fingers he walked it across the top of her foot, over the ball of her foot, down to her smooth, delicious toes. Son's eyes closed, and her head rocked back--she couldn't bear to remember what happened the last time to her foot. His hands rubbed warm oil over the top of her foot, the heel, the sole, all around, not tickling in the slightest. He walked around behind her again and once more whispered in her ear. "Within minutes, and without my plugging in again, I'll have you begging for that piece of paper. But you won't get it. What do you think of that?"
Son clenched her teeth behind closed lips and continued to look forward. She promised herself that she wouldn't give this creep the satisfaction of hearing her laugh again. She felt the chair's arms move upwards, this time bending them and positioning them so that her elbows were in front of her breasts and her wrists in front of her forehead. The arch in her upper body exposed her torso and allowed easy access to her underarms from behind, and she knew that his fingers would not need much time to get there. His touch begin again, one finger circling slowly on each side of her rib cage, pressing ever so gently, creating sensations more than poking or prodding. She pressed her lips together, her resolve solid. Two more fingers joined each of the sides, walking and stroking gently, sending little thrills around her torso and slowly tightening her abdominal muscles. Son tried to breathe slowly, tried to think of something else. Now the fingers were working their way from her hips up to her ribs in waves, his hands making sweeping motions as if her sides were harp strings. Her eyes were shut tight now, her mouth closed, yet the sensations kept coming. The hands didn't stop, but Son felt Xiang blow on her right ear. Taken off guard, a slight whimper escaped her lips, and the fingers kept moving. Hips, flutter, flutter, sides, flutter, flutter, ribs, release. Hips, flutter, flutter, sides, flutter, flutter, ribs, release. Another puff of air, this time on her left ear, and another sound, this time a yelp that wanted to giggle. Now the fingers stopped fluttering and started pinching lightly, grabbing little bits of her sides, now the skin over her ribs, now the gold mine just in the neighborhood of her hips, each contact tickling terribly, yet Son kept her lips shut.
"How are you holding up, Miss Phan?"
No answer. She knew that any talking might get her laughing. The fingers keps pinching. Her voice started to rebel, little hints of raucous laughter escaping whenever he got her hips.
"How long do you think you can last without laughing? Is the little girl getting too ticklish to keep a quiet mouth?"
The question delighted her, and horror quickly tried to shut out the delight, but it was no good. He was playing with her, and the question that should have roused her wrath was making her... want... to...
"Two more attacks on American forces in Guatemala have led the president to seek a cease-fire with the Agricultral Front rebels. The sides are planning to meet within days, and American General Landry Williams is travelling to the region to meet face-to-face with AF spokesmen."
"With American forces suffering setback after setback in Latin America, talk has already started about a third Vietnam. NBC news asked Dr. Sam Young, professor of terrorism studies at Berkely, to compare the three wars."
"The main thing to remember is that every generation's technology makes insurgent warfare different. If America takes this to be another Hanoi or assumes that it still has the technological advantage it enjoyed in Iraq, then the battle will never turn our way. Like any war that involves guerillas, this is going to take a gentle touch."
Too late. Her lips parted, and a tittering giggle came out, and she rolled her lips over her teeth. Xiang kept going, a little harder, pinching those delicious morsels of ticklish skin, and once more blew on her ear. Son couldn't take any more. She let out a girlish squeal, and Xiang went from pinching to digging in. Son shrieked as she bent her body one direction, and squealed as she went the other direction, and as she landed in the middle, she broke into a bouncing, musical laughter. Xiang just kept working, one hand rubbing her hip, making Son's frenzy grow, while the other prodded just below her ribs, moving her abdomen, as far as it could move, in a pulsing dance of avoidance. Like lightning, both hands swept upwards and attacked her underarms, bringing her out of the sustained laugh and into a shriek. Her bottom bounced on the seat, and her head thrashed, sometimes resting for a moment on her elbows before rocking back or shaking side to side.
As Xiang's left hand made a transition from armpit to hip, Son had enough breath and enough time to cry out, "Stop! Stop!" He smiled just before he resumed on her hip. Her arms' reflexes pulled down uselessly against the armrests each time a hand would slip into her underarm, and her laugh would squeal like tires when he came back to pinch her electrically ticklish hip. He tickled and tickled, here and there, lightly and aggressively, for minutes. Son couldn't tell how many, but when he stopped, she had a feeling that his minutes were going much slower than any other minutes she'd ever endured. The chair returned her to a normal sitting position, and Xiang walked around to face her again.
"Did you think you could hold out?" Son tried to keep her mouth still enough to glare at him. "That's one of my favorite games, really. These young, educated women--like you--they think that their husbands don't own them, that they can just give an hour or so every now and then, and that they're basically their own."
"I told you before, scum, I'm not one of your trophy bitches!"
"You're like them, though. You all think that you've got me figured out when I don't make you laugh right away. You're funny that way--even tied up in your underwear you try to salvage that last little bit of defiance." He leaned in close. "Don't you?" She was really glaring now. "No matter. Now that I've established that I can make you laugh even without plugging in, perhaps we can have some real fun now, no?"
With one hand he plugged a cord into his temple and with the other operated the chair control. Son stretched prone, her hands directly above her head and her legs stretched straight. She looked at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. Two shapes interposed themselves between the light and her eyes, shapes that moved like charmed snakes. Within moments she could tell that Xiang had two feathers. She bit her lip as she anticipated what was coming.
"Feathers on feet gives more of a sensual than a ticklish experience usually, Miss Phan. It's only that first touch of the bristles on your skin that really tickles intensely. Of course, as I told you, I can prolong that moment as long as I want. How long do you think I want this?"
"Go to hell!"
"We'll see." Son, already keyed up by the earlier tickling, squealed a little as the feathers started from her heels up towards her toes. And Xiang was right--whereas she could imagine the jumping, thrilling first tickle fading into a sensual stroke, instead every gliding stroke, at every point on her foot, for the duration of every pass, tickled as if someone's fingernails had just scratched at her most ticklish parts. Son's prone body could barely even generate enough motion to squirm, but her hips did buck up and down on the padded seat as Xiang's feathers passed up, down, up, down, slowly enough to excite her but every moment tickling her fiercely. She giggled and squealed as a girl should only do for love, but her throat and mouth could only produce mirth as Xiang tickled and tickled and tickled. She thought she could feel her legs start to tingle, each tickling sensation passing through her thighs and groin and up into her sex as it traveled from foot to brain.
"Damn it," she thought, "he's turned on the sex stimulator too." He never sped the feathers, as he didn't have to; he could enjoy every sensual pass without worrying that her feet might stop registering the tickling. Up, down, up, down. Son's mouth and cheeks froze into a clown's grin, her muscles now as far up as her abdomen tensing and pulsing, her bubbling giggles sometimes, for no visible reason, giving way to a shriek of glee as Xiang continued the feathers' slow motions. When her laughter faded into silent paroxysm, Xiang stopped. When she regained her breathing, he started again. For minute after minute her feet betrayed her, never gaining purchase on the maddening feathers, every moment sending her closer and closer to sexual release but never satisfying. As Xiang stopped, she could feel the bikini bottom sticking to her. Her chest heaved as she fought back the overriding pleasure.
"Very good, Miss Phan. Now I have the last third of our session really to tickle, to make you Ilium property."
Son couldn't even respond.
"In ten minutes, the man who wants answers will come through that door, and you'll tell him everything, not because you fear this but because you know that we own you."
Son believed every word he said, would have told now.
The Guatemalan rebel leader was a tall man, stocky despite his height, a commanding presence among his officers. "Has she gotten back to us yet? This could be our moment, and that Asian bitch is taking her time!"
A man looked up from a laptop computer. "They might be on to her, Capitan. We have to give her time to give them the slip."
"That general isn't going to be within striking distance forever! This could be the blow that mobilizes the people!"
"I sent the message just hours ago, Capitan. We need to be patient. As soon as she can, I just know she'll get General Williams' coordinates for us."
Xiang leered at his sweating toy. "Now I'm going to connect your erotic pleasure centers to the tickling process, and you will know what it is to be the most ticklish woman in the world!"
She found one last reserve. "They were already on, you bastard. I could feel them."
Xiang laughed. "No, my dear." Son could feel her chair raising, and Xiang got shorter. "You were feeling your body's natural reaction to intense foot stimulation. That was your own lust pushing you that far. That was little league. Now we're in the big time." Son slowly realized that she was being elevated so that Xiang could lick her feet. Without the energy even to scream on her own, she only raised her despairing moan into an aroused shriek as her virtuport sent signals to her erotic pleasure centers, tightening everything that could be tightened between knees and navels. She tried to tighten her abdomen to force the orgasm, but just as she tried, his tongue slipped between two of her toes.
Xiang exploded, making a sound that later she could not even have identified. She screamed and squirmed and laughed and squealed as his tongue darted between her toes and made long, licking passes on her sole. Her shoulders and calves pushed her hips into what arch they could make, and fireworks went off behind her clenched eyelids. With the massive sexual release and the continued tickling, she felt her brain overwhelm itself with endorphins, and she could still feel a biti of a tickle as she slipped into unconsciousness.
I highly suggest that you open part 1 in another tab to get caught up on the backstory. As always, I love feedback!
Room 103
Part 2
by
Kid Indy
"Now we need you to tell us what this message means."
Phan Cong Son's sexual reverie ran cold as she realized what the blond businessman was asking for. "That'll never happen, you corporate scum. I'll die before I let you know what they sent me."
Mr. Johnson did not seem troubled. He folded the paper in quarters and put it in his suit jacket's pocket. "No, you won't be dying, and yes, you will tell us what the message says. Let her have half an hour to make up her mind."
"NO! Don't leave me with that pervert!" But Mr. Johnson had already shut the door behind him.
Xiang swept with slinking step behind Son and began again to whisper in her ear: "Ah, my pet! You've decided to come back to me!"
She turned defiantly and stared into Xiang's eyes. "I decided to stay loyal to my cause. Nothing you can do to me will change that."
His snakish lips curled into a closed, leering grin. "I've heard prouder women than you deny the attraction. But you see, as much as your pride hates to lose control, your soul, the sex that makes you who you are, that makes you run back to me. We can't help but be who we are, Miss Phan. Causes or no causes, you want more of what you just got."
She looked forward, away from Xiang, with resolve. "I'll never want you, no matter how much that pains you."
"No, Miss Phan, you'll never be able to resist me again. In the back of your mind, you'll know that what just happened to you--" He drew a finger up one side of her ribcage, making her curl away from his hand-- "and what's about to happen to you--" His other hand made her torso twist back towards the first hand-- "is what your body has always wanted and will always want."
Son attempted strong silence.
"But since we have thirty minutes together, there's no need to go to extremes just yet. I'd rather break you using my own skills, then push you out of your mind again just before the questions start coming again. What do you say to that?"
Son looked forward, her muscles tensing even as she tried to feign stoicism. She still sat in her chair as one might sit at a dentist's office, arms down at her sides and feet out in front of her.
Xiang walked to the front of the chair and began to roll Son's remaining sock down her ankle. She could feel her heart beating faster. With meticulous fingers he walked it across the top of her foot, over the ball of her foot, down to her smooth, delicious toes. Son's eyes closed, and her head rocked back--she couldn't bear to remember what happened the last time to her foot. His hands rubbed warm oil over the top of her foot, the heel, the sole, all around, not tickling in the slightest. He walked around behind her again and once more whispered in her ear. "Within minutes, and without my plugging in again, I'll have you begging for that piece of paper. But you won't get it. What do you think of that?"
Son clenched her teeth behind closed lips and continued to look forward. She promised herself that she wouldn't give this creep the satisfaction of hearing her laugh again. She felt the chair's arms move upwards, this time bending them and positioning them so that her elbows were in front of her breasts and her wrists in front of her forehead. The arch in her upper body exposed her torso and allowed easy access to her underarms from behind, and she knew that his fingers would not need much time to get there. His touch begin again, one finger circling slowly on each side of her rib cage, pressing ever so gently, creating sensations more than poking or prodding. She pressed her lips together, her resolve solid. Two more fingers joined each of the sides, walking and stroking gently, sending little thrills around her torso and slowly tightening her abdominal muscles. Son tried to breathe slowly, tried to think of something else. Now the fingers were working their way from her hips up to her ribs in waves, his hands making sweeping motions as if her sides were harp strings. Her eyes were shut tight now, her mouth closed, yet the sensations kept coming. The hands didn't stop, but Son felt Xiang blow on her right ear. Taken off guard, a slight whimper escaped her lips, and the fingers kept moving. Hips, flutter, flutter, sides, flutter, flutter, ribs, release. Hips, flutter, flutter, sides, flutter, flutter, ribs, release. Another puff of air, this time on her left ear, and another sound, this time a yelp that wanted to giggle. Now the fingers stopped fluttering and started pinching lightly, grabbing little bits of her sides, now the skin over her ribs, now the gold mine just in the neighborhood of her hips, each contact tickling terribly, yet Son kept her lips shut.
"How are you holding up, Miss Phan?"
No answer. She knew that any talking might get her laughing. The fingers keps pinching. Her voice started to rebel, little hints of raucous laughter escaping whenever he got her hips.
"How long do you think you can last without laughing? Is the little girl getting too ticklish to keep a quiet mouth?"
The question delighted her, and horror quickly tried to shut out the delight, but it was no good. He was playing with her, and the question that should have roused her wrath was making her... want... to...
"Two more attacks on American forces in Guatemala have led the president to seek a cease-fire with the Agricultral Front rebels. The sides are planning to meet within days, and American General Landry Williams is travelling to the region to meet face-to-face with AF spokesmen."
"With American forces suffering setback after setback in Latin America, talk has already started about a third Vietnam. NBC news asked Dr. Sam Young, professor of terrorism studies at Berkely, to compare the three wars."
"The main thing to remember is that every generation's technology makes insurgent warfare different. If America takes this to be another Hanoi or assumes that it still has the technological advantage it enjoyed in Iraq, then the battle will never turn our way. Like any war that involves guerillas, this is going to take a gentle touch."
Too late. Her lips parted, and a tittering giggle came out, and she rolled her lips over her teeth. Xiang kept going, a little harder, pinching those delicious morsels of ticklish skin, and once more blew on her ear. Son couldn't take any more. She let out a girlish squeal, and Xiang went from pinching to digging in. Son shrieked as she bent her body one direction, and squealed as she went the other direction, and as she landed in the middle, she broke into a bouncing, musical laughter. Xiang just kept working, one hand rubbing her hip, making Son's frenzy grow, while the other prodded just below her ribs, moving her abdomen, as far as it could move, in a pulsing dance of avoidance. Like lightning, both hands swept upwards and attacked her underarms, bringing her out of the sustained laugh and into a shriek. Her bottom bounced on the seat, and her head thrashed, sometimes resting for a moment on her elbows before rocking back or shaking side to side.
As Xiang's left hand made a transition from armpit to hip, Son had enough breath and enough time to cry out, "Stop! Stop!" He smiled just before he resumed on her hip. Her arms' reflexes pulled down uselessly against the armrests each time a hand would slip into her underarm, and her laugh would squeal like tires when he came back to pinch her electrically ticklish hip. He tickled and tickled, here and there, lightly and aggressively, for minutes. Son couldn't tell how many, but when he stopped, she had a feeling that his minutes were going much slower than any other minutes she'd ever endured. The chair returned her to a normal sitting position, and Xiang walked around to face her again.
"Did you think you could hold out?" Son tried to keep her mouth still enough to glare at him. "That's one of my favorite games, really. These young, educated women--like you--they think that their husbands don't own them, that they can just give an hour or so every now and then, and that they're basically their own."
"I told you before, scum, I'm not one of your trophy bitches!"
"You're like them, though. You all think that you've got me figured out when I don't make you laugh right away. You're funny that way--even tied up in your underwear you try to salvage that last little bit of defiance." He leaned in close. "Don't you?" She was really glaring now. "No matter. Now that I've established that I can make you laugh even without plugging in, perhaps we can have some real fun now, no?"
With one hand he plugged a cord into his temple and with the other operated the chair control. Son stretched prone, her hands directly above her head and her legs stretched straight. She looked at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. Two shapes interposed themselves between the light and her eyes, shapes that moved like charmed snakes. Within moments she could tell that Xiang had two feathers. She bit her lip as she anticipated what was coming.
"Feathers on feet gives more of a sensual than a ticklish experience usually, Miss Phan. It's only that first touch of the bristles on your skin that really tickles intensely. Of course, as I told you, I can prolong that moment as long as I want. How long do you think I want this?"
"Go to hell!"
"We'll see." Son, already keyed up by the earlier tickling, squealed a little as the feathers started from her heels up towards her toes. And Xiang was right--whereas she could imagine the jumping, thrilling first tickle fading into a sensual stroke, instead every gliding stroke, at every point on her foot, for the duration of every pass, tickled as if someone's fingernails had just scratched at her most ticklish parts. Son's prone body could barely even generate enough motion to squirm, but her hips did buck up and down on the padded seat as Xiang's feathers passed up, down, up, down, slowly enough to excite her but every moment tickling her fiercely. She giggled and squealed as a girl should only do for love, but her throat and mouth could only produce mirth as Xiang tickled and tickled and tickled. She thought she could feel her legs start to tingle, each tickling sensation passing through her thighs and groin and up into her sex as it traveled from foot to brain.
"Damn it," she thought, "he's turned on the sex stimulator too." He never sped the feathers, as he didn't have to; he could enjoy every sensual pass without worrying that her feet might stop registering the tickling. Up, down, up, down. Son's mouth and cheeks froze into a clown's grin, her muscles now as far up as her abdomen tensing and pulsing, her bubbling giggles sometimes, for no visible reason, giving way to a shriek of glee as Xiang continued the feathers' slow motions. When her laughter faded into silent paroxysm, Xiang stopped. When she regained her breathing, he started again. For minute after minute her feet betrayed her, never gaining purchase on the maddening feathers, every moment sending her closer and closer to sexual release but never satisfying. As Xiang stopped, she could feel the bikini bottom sticking to her. Her chest heaved as she fought back the overriding pleasure.
"Very good, Miss Phan. Now I have the last third of our session really to tickle, to make you Ilium property."
Son couldn't even respond.
"In ten minutes, the man who wants answers will come through that door, and you'll tell him everything, not because you fear this but because you know that we own you."
Son believed every word he said, would have told now.
The Guatemalan rebel leader was a tall man, stocky despite his height, a commanding presence among his officers. "Has she gotten back to us yet? This could be our moment, and that Asian bitch is taking her time!"
A man looked up from a laptop computer. "They might be on to her, Capitan. We have to give her time to give them the slip."
"That general isn't going to be within striking distance forever! This could be the blow that mobilizes the people!"
"I sent the message just hours ago, Capitan. We need to be patient. As soon as she can, I just know she'll get General Williams' coordinates for us."
Xiang leered at his sweating toy. "Now I'm going to connect your erotic pleasure centers to the tickling process, and you will know what it is to be the most ticklish woman in the world!"
She found one last reserve. "They were already on, you bastard. I could feel them."
Xiang laughed. "No, my dear." Son could feel her chair raising, and Xiang got shorter. "You were feeling your body's natural reaction to intense foot stimulation. That was your own lust pushing you that far. That was little league. Now we're in the big time." Son slowly realized that she was being elevated so that Xiang could lick her feet. Without the energy even to scream on her own, she only raised her despairing moan into an aroused shriek as her virtuport sent signals to her erotic pleasure centers, tightening everything that could be tightened between knees and navels. She tried to tighten her abdomen to force the orgasm, but just as she tried, his tongue slipped between two of her toes.
Xiang exploded, making a sound that later she could not even have identified. She screamed and squirmed and laughed and squealed as his tongue darted between her toes and made long, licking passes on her sole. Her shoulders and calves pushed her hips into what arch they could make, and fireworks went off behind her clenched eyelids. With the massive sexual release and the continued tickling, she felt her brain overwhelm itself with endorphins, and she could still feel a biti of a tickle as she slipped into unconsciousness.
