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Spy Trouble (f/f non-consentual sexual finale)

nytoetapper

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Joined
Nov 12, 2003
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Another one that began as a chat, that I developed into a story.

On a bright Sunday morning, Felicia Moorehead goes for a quick 5 mile run. As a CIA field agent, she likes to stay in top shape. Five foot eight, with honey colored hair that reaches her mid-back, and intense green eyes, heads turn as she runs by. She is athletically built with some muscular definition and modest but ample breasts. People in her neighborhood thought her to be a fitness model, as she kept some strange hours and was often traveling. As she nears the end of her run, a black van pulls up beside her. The driver hisses and cat-calls at her, which she patently ignores. In a flash, out jump 2 black-clad SWAT-type agents who grab her and place a chloroform-soaked rag over her face. She quickly collapses, the last thought going through her mind being a curse that she didn’t anticipate this.

She awakens staring at the ceiling. She tries to rise only to notice that you she is strapped to an X shaped table, wrists, waist, knees, and ankles are secured with padded leather cuffs. Felicia tries to move, to no avail. The room is dark but warm. Suddenly a light is switched on, a bare bulb directly above her. The flash of light momentarily blinds her.

“Who's there!?” She asks commandingly.

A tall brunette with dark hair, pulled back in a long ponytail, steps forward and into view. She’s wearing a dark grey skirt suit and little round steel-rimmed glasses. She looks like a schoolboy’s hot teacher or librarian fantasy.

“Who are you and why am I here?!” Demands Felicia. She suddenly wonders is she should play innocent and scared or keep up the imposing front.

"I am here to ask you some questions…" Replies the brunette coolly. “Questions I KNOW you have the answers to. And I must say, you’re awfully uppity for someone in your position. If you cooperate, you will be returned, unharmed to where we took you from. If you are difficult, well, as they say... We have ways of making you talk...” She giggles evilly, hand to her mouth.

“If you know me, then you know I can take pain!” Felicia briefly flashes back to her capture and control training, where she took a hell of a beating, but kept her secret password safe. She was one of three from a class of 26 who passed.

“Pain, who said anything about pain? I find the idea of pain as torture to be barbaric, as well as flawed.” Slowly, she strides to the foot of Felicia’s table and begins to untie her sneakers. She removes them, and the socks. Felicia glares angrily at her. Suddenly, the glint of a knife catches her eye.

Trying to remain calm, she spits, “So much for not being barbaric…” She steels herself for the cut which is sure to follow.

“Relax, dear, this won't hurt a bit.” The brunette begins cutting away her clothes, she smiles at the lacy thong and panty set. A few well placed cuts free Felicia of those, leaving her totally nude. “Hmm, I don't recall Victoria's Secret being standard government-issue... Well, shall we begin? What is your name?” Felicia stares daggers through the narrow slits of her eyes. “Surely there is no harm in telling me your name, is there?”

“My name is Kiss My ASS!”
“You don't look much like a Kiss My Ass to me.”
“My dad was a comedian!” Felicia, figuring that she wasn’t likely to live beyond this encounter, decided she would have some fun.

“Tsk,tsk… Now you will see what happens when I don't believe your answers…” She drags a single finger slowly from Felicia’s navel, to her ribs, and up to her armpit.

Suddenly shivering, Felicia queries, “Wwwwhat are you hehe dddoing!”

“Why, isn't it obvious?” She begins to scratch her nails lightly in the hollows of both armpits. “I intend to tickle the information out of you...” A hungry smile plays over the brunette’s lips. Felicia closes her eyes tightly and begins to breathe quicker. Her mind franticly tries to combat the ticklish sensations that threaten to overcome her. The brunette’s fingers move faster and a press a little harder. Felicia shakes her head from side to side. A few stuttered giggles escape. She bites her full lower lip… Into her pits, then down her sides move the tickly fingers, tweaking each of her ribs.

“Heehehehehehehehe!” Felicia squeals. She thinks, “No! I must hold it together!”

“So, Kiss My Ass, is it?” The Brunette taunts.

Felicia tightens her abs, “Yyyeah! Ha-ha! My brother’s name is Horse’s”

“Very well. I’ll come back to your name. For whom do you work?” She traces light circles around Felicia’s navel.

“Wendys...heeheeheeeeee The burger jjjjoint! I’m head Pickle Girl! Ahhhahahah”

“I've eaten at that Wendy's, I should punish you for making such crappy food!” She squeezes her pockets viciously.

“What is your mission here in New York?”

“Ummmmm, to take over Burger King? Hehehehehe”

The brunette reaches over and tickles both armpits and ribs with both hands. Felicia screams laughter, “Aaaaaaaaaaaaahahahahahahahahahaha! I ha-ha-have NOTHING to sa-hay-hayyyeeee!”

“Oh, really? Nice abs…” The brunette dips her tongue in Felicia’s navel as her fingers dance up and down her sides from her pits to her hips… Felicia tightens her stomach and strains every muscle against her bonds… The Brunette straddles her hips and leans in and whispers in her ear, “I hope you never break!” then she hops down and moves between Felecia’s legs. Felicia sucks in gulps of air and tries to steel her mind and body against the assault she knows is yet to come… During the break, she is suddenly aware that her nipples are erect and there is a growing heat between her legs.

The brunette interrupts her thoughts, “Why do you suffer so? All I ask is for a little information. Why resist? Give in and you will be free in no time…” As she speaks, she drags a fingernail in slow lazy circles around Felicia’s navel. Felicia catches herself about to lift her hips so her neatly trimmed pussy will rub against her tormentor’s arm.

“Shit!” She thinks to herself, “What’s happening to me?”

“Well Ms. Pickle Girl, what will it be?” The brunette suddenly begins to squeeze her pockets in an alternating pattern. Felicia tenses her leg muscles, fresh peals of laughter issuing from her dry lips. Again, the tongue darts in and out of and around her navel. The Brunettes breasts brush her inner thighs and pussy. She taunts, “Does this tickle, Pickle Girl?” Felicia’s head whips from side to side as the brunette begins to squeeze her knees. “Don't fight me, tell me what I want to know!”

“I don’t know anythinggggggg! Hahahahahaha”

“I can make it all stop…” She suddenly halts her attack. Felicia catches her breath. “Or it can get worse...” She squeezes her sides and kneads her belly. Fresh laughter pours out of Felicia.

When the brunette starts licking down from Felicia’s navel to just above her pubic mound, Felicia begins to panic. The growing heat and moisture in her loins suggests that she wants the torture to continue, but her mind screams otherwise. The brunette suddenly stops and steps out of the room for a moment. Felicia can hear hushed voices whispering.

When she returns, she says, “I must admit, I'm impressed. Others have broken after only 10 minutes, but you have endured for more than 30, so far. But I am growing impatient. Once again, What is your name, and for whom are you working?”

After a brief silence where Felicia only glares at her, seething, she says, “I’m glad you decided not to talk…” And with that, she walks over to Felicia’s head and fixes a blindfold over her eyes.

Felicia, deprived of her sight, relies on her training and listens intensely for any sound that may reveal what is in store for her next. She hears a series of clicks and a whirring sound. She feels a faint breeze blow from left to right across her upper body, then seconds later, she feels the breeze blow right to left. This repeats a few times, then she feels something, like sheet with tassels or several loose threads, brush across her breasts from left to right. Then she feels spidery tingles all over her breasts, belly, pits, and ribs, moving from right to left… The sensation returns in the opposite direction. The touch is light, but firm enough to illicit a tickling sensation that causes Felicia to burst into a fit of giggles. “Wwwha-ha-hat is tttha-ha-ha-haat?” She sputters between giggles.

“It’s a little invention of mine. Ever read ‘The Pit and the Pendulum’? Well imagine that instead of a blade slicing back and forth across your torso, there is a platform from which hang long yarn-like threads and a mix of stiff and fluffy feathers. As they swing back and forth, the will tickle your entire upper body, allowing me to focus my attention elsewhere… By the way, it's a little worse when you can't see, isn't it?”

Felicia realizes that the voice of the brunette was emanating from somewhere between her legs! Without warning she suddenly feels spidery tickles up and down her inner thighs as the brunette explores her ticklish flesh. Squeals and rich belly laughs echo off the chamber walls. The heat between Felicia’s legs rises a few degrees more…

Dimly, she notices that the brunette is tickling down her thighs, around her knees, and along the sides of her calves. She realizes where the brunette is headed and her breath catches in her throat for a second. She recalls the last pedicure she got, just 2 days ago, and how much it tickled as the woman worked her delicate feet.

“One last chance! Give me your name, and who you work for.”

“Barbara!” She gasps in desperation, using the name of the woman whose hands were last on her ticklish feet. “My name is Barbara and…”

She takes in a few deep breaths, steeling herself for what will follow. “And I’m a dance instructor for the Arthur Murray studios. Would you like a free tango lesson?” A satisfied smile plays across her lips briefly.

“Excellent. I was hoping you would resist. You have withstood my best efforts for over an hour now but that will all come to an end.”

“Finally, you realize your mistake and are setting me free?”

“Not a chance… I have been saving my favorite for last…” With that, Felicia feels a fingernail being dragged up her right sole from the heel to the toe-line. She squeaks out a helpless “EEP!” Then she feels a slightly familiar feeling. The brunette places a reinforced toe-separator, like the foam ones they use in the nail salon, between her toes, high on the pads of her toes. They are stiff, but cushioned, and they have string coming out of the ends. She takes the ends of the strings and pulls back till Felicia’s foot can reach back no further. She ties the ends to the cuffs which hold Felicia’s ankles so securely. Felicia’s soles are now taut and helpless, as she cannot curl her toes. And there is a little space between the toe-separators and the ball of her foot. A fact which is driven into sharp focus as she feels a stiff feather being inserted in the space between her big and second toes on each foot. The brunette begins sawing the feathers back and forth, then along the toe-line and in and out of the space between each toe in succession.

Felicia tries desperately to move her feet, but can only manage a weak wiggle from side to side. Not enough to escape the tickling. Meanwhile, the tickle-pendulum is continuing to swing and tickle and excite her upper body. Felicia’s mind kicks into overdrive when she suddemly feels nails spider-tickling in the arch of her left foot. “Aaaahhhhahahah-hehehehehehehehehe! Sssstop! Pppuh-puh-pleeeeeasseeeee!!!”

"Talk or not, you're in for a ride now, Felicia!"

“What!? Heeeeeeeek Heeheeheeheeheehee!” The brunette switches to Felicia’s right foot. Felicia realizes that the brunette used her real name. Learning that her captor knows her name makes her think that she has been taken by one of her country’s enemies. Luckiliy, she is between assignments, so she cannot compromise any current operation. She resigns herself to a slow death by torture. Although, she admits to herself that if this is their method, she will at least die laughing! The brunette’s fingers continue their assault all over her right sole. Just as Felicia began to appreciate the rhythm the brunette was using on her right foot, she leans in and tickles both feet, her fingers a blur on Felicia’s pink soles. She tickles around the heel, then up into the arch. Then she tickles the sensitive spot where the ball and arch meet and along the toe-lines. She keeps varying the speed, pressure and location so as to keep Felicia off track and unable to follow her rhythm.

“Who do you work for? Why are you in New York?” Felicia begins to consider cooperating a little, to buy herself time, but she hasn’t reached her breaking point yet. Suddenly she feels the kiss of a stiff feather along her moist swollen pussy lips. She gasps and pulls in a breath sharply. All the tickling has made her quite aroused, and the feathery touch sent bolts of electricity through her body… She still felt the fingers on her feet and the pendulum, and wondered how this new sensation was being applied. She figures it out when the brunette speaks through clenched teeth, “I WILL break you!”

Felicia had been through psychological and physical training to prepare her for rape and torture. In the spy game, it was a risk. While some thought the training extreme, Felicia understood the value of it, as the secrets she held could cost the lives of hundreds. Felicia spasms as the feather flicks across her clit. She hears some shuffling and feels the pressure on her right toes relax as the brunette has cut the string to the right toe-separator, and removes it. She then intensifies tickling her left foot with 1 hand, and grabs hold of her right foot just below the toes. Felicia is about to disclose her full name when her big and second toes disappear into the brunette’s mouth. She feels her tongue slip up and down and between her toes. Fresh peals of laughter ring out and stars pop in her vision with this new tickly and sensual sensation. The brunette takes her lips off those two and enfolds the other three. Her tongue, deftly sliding between each toe, teeth lighty tickling the pads of her toes. All the while, her fingers play both soles and the pendulum swings.

When Felicia thinks she can take no more, she notices the tickling of her left foot stop. Before she can thank heaven for small favors, she feels the blade edge of a stiff feather being dragged down her pussy lips. Her whole body tenses momentarily then shudders. The tickling, having driven her tactile senses to new heights, reaches a fever pitch. When the tip of the feather begins flicking back and forth across her swollen, exposed clit, she looses it. A fireworks display erupts in her vision and her body bucks. She spasms a few times then her whole body goes rigid as she crests the ticklish orgasmic wave. It seems to go on and on, as the tickling sensations keep her on edge.

Then suddenly she hears a loud alarm bell. All tickling stops, the pendulum is lifted away. The brunette comes around and removes her blindfold and covers her with a sheet. The harsh light above is extinguished and softer lights come up. Blinking, breathing in hard long breaths, Felicia notices a nurse coming toward her. The brunette begins by unstrapping her ankles, and working up to her wrists. Before she undoes the wrist straps she says, “Relax and don’t fight. This was a surprise capture/torture scenario drill.” Felicia thinks wryly that she couldn’t fight now if she had a Red Bull and a handfull of uppers.

The nurse places a big bottle of water and some fresh clothes on a tray next to the X-frame. The brunette sends her away and hands Felicia the bottle, brushing the hair out of her face and towelling off her sweat-soaked body. Realization finally dawns on her that this was a test, and she had passed.

“Congratulations Agent Moorehead. I am Director Chief Andrea Domino. You have just passed your Extreme Interrogation Scenario. By doing so, you have earned the rank of Field Agent A6, the highest CIA Field Operative rank. We have found that our training enable agents to withstand pain, thus removing the threat of pain. But Tickling has broken all but the most die-hard agents. You have the second highest tolerance in the Agency at this point in time. You now qualify for deep-cover operations. I salute you, and wish you luck. You are hereby granted 2 weeks vacation at our recovery spa in Hawaii, effective immediately, after which you will receive your next assignment.”

Director Chief Domino kisses her on each cheek, then turns and walks toward the
door. “One more thing...”

“Yes, Director Chief?”

“At least once every three months, you must report to me for additional ‘conditioning’ to improve or maintain your resistance. Make your first appointment with my secretary as you leave.”

“Y-yes ma’am!” Agent Moorehead falls back on the x-frame, hands on her head, and smiles…
 
wowow you just get better and better. what a fantastic ending. and she passed that test? hmm wonder if i would have.. great concept..love interrogation scenarios, as i've stated many times in the past..looking forward to more from you, my friend..
 
My dear Izzy, thank you for your kind comments. I think I will soon be taking a page from your book with teasing and denial. I have to dig in my bag of plot tricks for a story worth telling.

TicklishGrl4Lfe, thanks. All the encouragement(as well as kind words and other silliness in the silly stuff area) has been inspiring me.
 
Hey, who has the highest tolerance, Domino? Well, how about having this tolerance tested by the secondest highest. :firedevil

Oh, really story-like the fairy tale one too. It can get so boring imagining all the regular type tickling stuff--so having stories like these is great!
 
Thanks Gamer. I'm brewing up an idea where the highest rated agent has gone rogue, and Agent Moorehead has to infiltrate her crew and discover their diaboloical plot.
 
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