Jennifer brushed her dark bangs away from her eyes. She couldn’t help it; it was a nervous habit that ran in her family. She quickly knocked on the door, anxious to get the night over with.
Jennifer looked the place over. Nice house. It was two stories, with immaculate architecture. A Mercedes Benz was parked at the curb.
This is a nice fucking neighborhood, she thought to herself. She shuddered, thinking what sort of spoiled monsters she’d have to deal with tonight. All of these rich families were the same.
The door opened to reveal a stunningly beautiful woman who was the spitting image of Nicole Kidman. In fact, for a brief instant, Jennifer thought the woman was Nicole Kidman. She nearly fell backward in shock.
“You must be Jennifer!” the woman beamed.
“Mrs... Mrs. Steadman?” Jennifer sputtered.
“Oh, please, call me Cynthia,” said Mrs. Steadman. “Please, come in!”
Jennifer stepped into the house. It was even nicer than she expected. There was a living room to her right with a plasama screen TV. Directly above the doorway there was a crystal chandelier. The den seemed to be at least two miles ahead; it had a grand fireplace, as well as the biggest home entertainment system Jennifer had ever seen.
A man emerged from the kitchen. Aside from his darker hair (which Jennifer chalked up to Just For Men) he was a dead ringer for George Clooney.
“Jennifer,” Mrs. Steadman said, “I’d like you to meet my husband, Thomas.”
Mr. Steadman extended his hand.
“How do you do,” he said.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Steadman,” Jennifer said.
He shook his head.
“No, no no. Call me Thomas.”
“Okay... Thomas,” Jennifer said.
“Now you must meet the children.”
Thomas and Cynthia lead Jennifer into the living room, where two children sat watching TV. Two girls. Both with golden blond hair.
“Julie? Samantha? Say hello to your new babysitter,” Cynthia called.
Both children turned around.
They were twins.
Great, Jennifer thought. How the hell am I going to tell them apart.
“Hello,” one of them said, politely. The other hid behind her sister’s dress, but waved timidly.
“Samantha’s a little shy,” Cynthia whispered to Jennifer. “But she comes out of her shell once you get to know her.”
Cynthia and Thomas walked over to the door.
“Well, Jennifer, all of your references check out, and you’re a bright girl, so I’m sure you’ll know what to do in case of an emergency,” Cynthia said as she put on her coat. “No sense in prolonging the formalities. There’s plenty of food in the fridge; just help yourself. Have the kids in bed by nine, okay?”
“Okay, Mrs. Stead–er, Cynthia,” Jennifer said. “Don’t worry. You can count on me.”
Cynthia paused, then walked over to Jennifer. She put her hands on Jennifer’s shoulders.
“You’re so young,” she breathed. “With the prettiest hazel eyes... such soft dark hair. And, what creamy milk white skin!”
Jennifer was getting a little uneasy. She tried to look away.
“But, you’re so thin! You really need to fatten up!”
Cynthia smiled. Without warning, she suddenly squeezed Jennifer’s sides.
“EEEEEEEEP!” Jennifer shrieked, jumping away.
“Ticklish, eh?” Cynthia said, grinning.
“Y-yeah... I’m really ticklish,” Jennifer replied nervously.
She thought she heard Cynthia whisper something along the lines of “perfect”, but she couldn’t be sure, because it was at that point that Tom called out to his wife, “Honey, we need to go, or we’re going to be late.”
“Coming, Dear,” Cynthia said cheerfully. The couple walked out to their car.
What the hell was that all about, Jennifer thought as she closed the door behind them.
***
As it turned out, Jennifer had been wrong. Julie and Samantha were angels. They did everything they were told, and they were so well behaved that Jennifer had no problem watching TV with them.
In fact, when nine o clock rolled around, Jennifer was a little disappointed.
“Okay, guys,” she said, “your parents said I have to have you in bed by nine, and it’s nine, so...”
Both girls got up.
“Have we been good, Jennifer?” Julie asked.
“Of course!” Jennifer said. “You girls were perfect. I’m sure your parents are going to be very proud of you.”
“Then do you think you could play one game with us, before we go to bed? Just one?”
Jennifer thought it over. Cynthia had told her to have the girls in bed by nine... but they had been so good. She was sure Thomas and Cynthia wouldn’t be too angry if she just explained the situation to them.
“Okay,” Jennifer said. “We’ll play a game. What is it?”
Both girls beamed.
“Come with us,” Julie said, “we’ll show you.”
The girls lead Jennifer upstairs.
“Our dad used to be a professor of medieval studies,” Julie explained as they walked. “He has all sorts of cool stuff..”
They reached the top of the stairs. There were three doors, one directly in front of them, and one to either side.
“This way,” Julie said, taking Jennifer’s hand.
She led Jennifer to the door in front of them, and slowly turned the knob. She pushed it open to reveal a room filled with all sorts of medieval relics: maces, swords, a suit of armor... even a torture rack.
Julie excitedly led Jennifer to the rack.
“Here!” she said. “Okay, get in!”
“What?” Jennifer said. “No way. I’ll play a game with you, but I don’t think your dad would appreciate me messing with his stuff.”
“Oh, he won’t mind,” Julie said. “He lets our babysitters do it all the time. Come on. Please?”
Even Samantha, who hadn’t said a word all night, looked at Jennifer pleadingly.
Reluctantly, Jennifer agreed.
“Okay,” she said. “What do we do?”
Julie clapped her hands.
“Just lay down.”
Jennifer complied. The wood was uncomfortable... then again, it was a torture rack. Julie tried to lock Jennifer’s arms in place, but she couldn’t.
“Jen, could you take off your sweater?” Julie asked.
“What? Why?”
“I can’t get the cuffs around your arms.”
“Julie, I don’t know if I want the cuffs around my arms... it’s a little weird.”
“Pleaase?”
Jennifer sighed. “Oh, all right.”
She took off her sweater, and laid it just beneath the rack.
“Actually, could you take your tank top off, too?”
“No! Julie, what kind of a game is this?!”
“Aww, come on, we’re both girls here, aren’t we?”
“Julie, I don’t think that would be appropriate...”
“Jen, you’re wearing a bra. It’s not that big of a deal. Come on, please?”
“Okay, fine. But this game had better be quick.”
Jennifer took her tank top off and tossed it with her sweater.
Julie snapped Jennifer’s arms into place.
Jennifer hadn’t realized it, but while she was arguing with Julie, Samantha had slipped her shoes and socks off. Now she unbuttoned Jennifer’s pants.
“Samantha! What are you doing?!”
“You’ll see,” Samantha replied, grinning wickedly.
Julie tried to pull her arms free, but they were held firmly in place. She tried to gently throw Samantha off with her legs (she didn’t want to hurt her) but Samantha knew what she was doing. She got Julie’s pants off almost instantly.
Then she cuffed her ankles.
Now Julie lay, spread out on the medieval torture rack, wearing only her bra and panties.
“Guys, this isn’t funny,” Jennifer yelled. “Get me out of here!”
“What’s the matter, Jennifer?” Julie asked. “Don’t you want to play anymore?”
“No!” Jennifer yelled. “Let me out of here, now! You just wait until your mom and dad get home. When I tell them what you’ve done, I–EEEEEEEEEP!” Julie screamed.
Samantha had wiggled her fingers in the hollow of Jennifer’s left armpit.
“They’re so smooth,” Samantha said with what sounded like awe.
“This is going to be fun,” Julie said to her. She grabbed Jennifer’s clothes and handed them to Samantha. “Here, get these out of here,” she said.
“Don’t you dare take my clothes out of here!” Jennifer yelled. “Bring them back here this instant! When I tell your mom and dad”–
“Tell them what, that you made us tie you to this rack once you heard we had it? That you made us take your clothes off first and... touch you?”
Jennifer gasped.
“Why, you little...”
Julie grinned and stuck her tongue out.
“That’s exactly what we’re going to tell them, too, if you don’t shut up.”
Jennifer said nothing, opting instead to glare at the ceiling.
“That’s better,” Julie said. “Now, we’re going to bed. You have fun in here.”
She flicked off the lights.
“Wait, you can’t leave me in here in the dark! Please, don’t do that!”
“Goodnight, Jennifer,” Julie said mockingly as she closed the door behind her.
The light was swallowed by the palpable darkness. Julie lay in fear, trembling and cursing her miserable fate.
***
“Someone, please, help me!” Jennifer screamed yet again. She had spent what seemed to be several hours nearly naked, bound against her will. Those little sadists, Julie thought to herself.
“Help me! Someone, please!”
Suddenly, the door opened. Someone switched the lights on.
“What’s all this yelling about?” a voice said.
Julie realized it was Cynthia.
“Mrs. Steadman!” Julie yelled. “Please, help me! I”–
“Sshhhhhhh,” Mrs. Steadman said, crossing over to her. She came over and gently placed her hand on Jennifer’s forehead.
Jennifer realized that Cynthia was dressed in a strange brown robe with a hood.
Like an inquisitor, Jennifer thought to herself.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Cynthia whispered, stroking her head. “You’ll be just fine. Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?” Jennifer yelled. “What the fuck is going on here?!”
“Such language,” Cynthia said disapprovingly. “And with the children’s bedrooms so close, too.”
“You and your children are a bunch of sadists!” Jennifer spit. “Let me out of here!”
Cynthia shook her head.
“Tsk tsk. And I thought you were so well behaved. Well, it doesn’t matter. Are you ready... for the torture?”
“T....t-t...torture?” Jennifer gasped.
Cynthia nodded eagerly, an evil light in her eyes.
“Oh, yes. Torture.”
“Please, Mrs. Steadman, don’t do this. Please. Just let me go. I want to go home.” Jennifer was crying.
“Awww, you poor thing,” Mrs. Steadman cooed. “No tears allowed in this house. Only... laughter!”
With that said, she began squeezing Jennifer’s sides eagerly.
Jennifer gasped and screammed.
“AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH! MRS. STEADMAN!!!! STOOOOOOOP!!!!”
“Is wittle Jennifer ticklish?” Mrs. Steadman cackled. “Tickle tickle tickle!”
Jennifer bucked and thrashed as much as her bonds would allow, but it was no good. Mrs. Steadman continued squeezing her sides. Jennifer couldn’t take it. She was horribly ticklish. All her life, she had never been able to stand much more than a few seconds of tickling. Just the fact that she was bound seemed to intensify Jennifer’s ticklishness to an unbearable degree.
Mrs. Steadman kept squeezing Jennifer’s sides. She seemed to relish in Jennifer’s agony. In fact, her nipples were growing hard at the sound of Jennifer’s sweet laughter. Nothing turned her on more than a bound, helpless, younger ticklish girl, completely at her mercy.
“PLEEEHEHEHEEEZE!! NO MOHOHOHOOOOORE!!”
Mrs. Steadman finally stopped. Jennifer struggled to catch her breath.
“Please, no more,” she panted. “I.... I can’t take it. Let me go. Please.”
Cynthia cocked her head to one side.
“Boy, you certainly are a killjoy, did anyone ever tell you that?” she said. “I’m just getting warmed up. You can’t possibly want to stop now.”
“Please,” Jennifer groaned. “Mrs. Steadman, just let me go home. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
Cynthia shook her head. “I know what’s wrong. You’re just tired of that spot. I totally agree with you. Time for something new.”
“No, no, no no no...”
“Oh yes. Let’s see... how about the... armpits?”
“No! Mrs. Steadman, please! Not my armpits! They’re so ticklish, I would just die!”
Mrs. Steadman chuckled.
“Is that a promise?”
“No, please! Please, I”–
“Because I’ve always thought, if you’re going to die, you might as well die... laughing.”
“Please, please please please”–
Cynthia quickly dug her fingers into Jennifer’s armpits.
Jennifer’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. Her mouth flew open; the tickling was unreal.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STOOOP!!! STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!”
“Oh? Stop what?” Cynthia asked, furiously tickling Jennifer’s armpits.
“TIIIIIICKLING MEEEEEHEHEHEHEEEEE! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Tickling you? You want me to keep tickling you? Okay!”
“NOOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOOO!”
Cynthia tickled Jennifer’s armpits for fifteen minutes, nonstop. By the time she did stop, Jennifer was a mass. She was completely sweaty, and on the verge of passing out. She could barely speak.
“....o....nmore....:” she croaked.
“More?” Mrs. Steadman said eagerly.
Jennifer was too tired to protest.
“Here, let’s just undo this...” she reached over and unlaced Jennifer’s bra.
Then she grinned.
“You naughty girl,” Mrs. Steadman said. “Your nipples are hard.”
She gently stroked them, as if to prove her point.
“You like this, don’t you?”
Jennifer feebly shook her head.
“Oh yes you do,” Cynthia said. “Here, I’ll show you.”
She began squeezing Jennifer’s nipples.
Jennifer squirmed.
“Don’t deny it,” Cynthia said.
Jennifer began to writhe a little more. Then, laughter once again filled the room.
“Hehehehehehehehehehehe Mrs. Steadmehehehehehehehehen, pleheheheheheheheeeese nohoho moohohohohorre ehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe!”
“See, I told you you like it,” Cynthia sneered.
“Nohohohohohohohohohohoho!”
“Such a naughty girl. Yes you are. Yes you are!” She squeezed even tighter, making Jennifer shriek.
“Ahahehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe! Nohohohohohohohohohohoh! Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe!”
“Oh yeeees!”
“Ahahaheheheheheheheheheheheha!”
Without warning, Cynthia ceased her attack on Jennifer’s nipples and instead began furiously licking her neck.
“AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! STOOOOHOP PLEEEEEEHEHEHEHEEEZE NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
This tickled Jennifer to an unbelievable degree. Mrs. Steadman’s warm tongue drove Jennifer to new levels of torment; making her buck, thrash, scream and writhe in unbearable ticklish agony.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Cynthia kept lapping at Jennifer’s neck. Nothing tasted better to her than Jennifer’s smooth, flawless skin. She wanted to keep licking forever.
“PLLLEEEEEHEHEHEEEEZE!! NO MOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHORRE!!! AHAHAHAHAHAhAHAHAhAHA!!! AHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAAAAAAIAIII! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Cynthia stopped. She wiped her mouth.
“Oh God, please, no more, I can’t take any more. Why are you doing this? What did I do to–AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!”
Cynthia had begun licking the inside of Jennifer’s bellybutton. Jennifer had thought her neck was terrible; this was at least a hundred times worse.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! MRS. STEADMAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAN!! I’M GOING TO PEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEE!”
But Mrs. Steadman kept licking. And licking. And licking. She licked poor Jennifer’s bellybutton mercilessly.
Jennifer couldn’t take it anymore. A pool of urine welled up all around her, eventually dripping off the edges of the rack.
Mrs. Steadman stopped.
“Well, my dear, it looks as though you’ve had enough.”
“Oh God, yes. Please, no more. Just let me go. Please, I”–
“It just so happens you’re in luck. I’ve had enough as well.”
“So let me go! Please, I beg you, I can’t take anymore, I can’t.”
Mrs. Steadman put a finger to Jennifer’s lips.
“Shhhh. My dear, I said that I had enough.”
Jennifer heard the door open.
“But my husband hasn't had his fun yet!”
“Noooooooo!” Jennifer screamed.
“Jennifer, I have only three words for you: welcome to the family!”
The room filled with laughter. But Jennifer’s continued long after the joke had gotten old.
Jennifer looked the place over. Nice house. It was two stories, with immaculate architecture. A Mercedes Benz was parked at the curb.
This is a nice fucking neighborhood, she thought to herself. She shuddered, thinking what sort of spoiled monsters she’d have to deal with tonight. All of these rich families were the same.
The door opened to reveal a stunningly beautiful woman who was the spitting image of Nicole Kidman. In fact, for a brief instant, Jennifer thought the woman was Nicole Kidman. She nearly fell backward in shock.
“You must be Jennifer!” the woman beamed.
“Mrs... Mrs. Steadman?” Jennifer sputtered.
“Oh, please, call me Cynthia,” said Mrs. Steadman. “Please, come in!”
Jennifer stepped into the house. It was even nicer than she expected. There was a living room to her right with a plasama screen TV. Directly above the doorway there was a crystal chandelier. The den seemed to be at least two miles ahead; it had a grand fireplace, as well as the biggest home entertainment system Jennifer had ever seen.
A man emerged from the kitchen. Aside from his darker hair (which Jennifer chalked up to Just For Men) he was a dead ringer for George Clooney.
“Jennifer,” Mrs. Steadman said, “I’d like you to meet my husband, Thomas.”
Mr. Steadman extended his hand.
“How do you do,” he said.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Steadman,” Jennifer said.
He shook his head.
“No, no no. Call me Thomas.”
“Okay... Thomas,” Jennifer said.
“Now you must meet the children.”
Thomas and Cynthia lead Jennifer into the living room, where two children sat watching TV. Two girls. Both with golden blond hair.
“Julie? Samantha? Say hello to your new babysitter,” Cynthia called.
Both children turned around.
They were twins.
Great, Jennifer thought. How the hell am I going to tell them apart.
“Hello,” one of them said, politely. The other hid behind her sister’s dress, but waved timidly.
“Samantha’s a little shy,” Cynthia whispered to Jennifer. “But she comes out of her shell once you get to know her.”
Cynthia and Thomas walked over to the door.
“Well, Jennifer, all of your references check out, and you’re a bright girl, so I’m sure you’ll know what to do in case of an emergency,” Cynthia said as she put on her coat. “No sense in prolonging the formalities. There’s plenty of food in the fridge; just help yourself. Have the kids in bed by nine, okay?”
“Okay, Mrs. Stead–er, Cynthia,” Jennifer said. “Don’t worry. You can count on me.”
Cynthia paused, then walked over to Jennifer. She put her hands on Jennifer’s shoulders.
“You’re so young,” she breathed. “With the prettiest hazel eyes... such soft dark hair. And, what creamy milk white skin!”
Jennifer was getting a little uneasy. She tried to look away.
“But, you’re so thin! You really need to fatten up!”
Cynthia smiled. Without warning, she suddenly squeezed Jennifer’s sides.
“EEEEEEEEP!” Jennifer shrieked, jumping away.
“Ticklish, eh?” Cynthia said, grinning.
“Y-yeah... I’m really ticklish,” Jennifer replied nervously.
She thought she heard Cynthia whisper something along the lines of “perfect”, but she couldn’t be sure, because it was at that point that Tom called out to his wife, “Honey, we need to go, or we’re going to be late.”
“Coming, Dear,” Cynthia said cheerfully. The couple walked out to their car.
What the hell was that all about, Jennifer thought as she closed the door behind them.
***
As it turned out, Jennifer had been wrong. Julie and Samantha were angels. They did everything they were told, and they were so well behaved that Jennifer had no problem watching TV with them.
In fact, when nine o clock rolled around, Jennifer was a little disappointed.
“Okay, guys,” she said, “your parents said I have to have you in bed by nine, and it’s nine, so...”
Both girls got up.
“Have we been good, Jennifer?” Julie asked.
“Of course!” Jennifer said. “You girls were perfect. I’m sure your parents are going to be very proud of you.”
“Then do you think you could play one game with us, before we go to bed? Just one?”
Jennifer thought it over. Cynthia had told her to have the girls in bed by nine... but they had been so good. She was sure Thomas and Cynthia wouldn’t be too angry if she just explained the situation to them.
“Okay,” Jennifer said. “We’ll play a game. What is it?”
Both girls beamed.
“Come with us,” Julie said, “we’ll show you.”
The girls lead Jennifer upstairs.
“Our dad used to be a professor of medieval studies,” Julie explained as they walked. “He has all sorts of cool stuff..”
They reached the top of the stairs. There were three doors, one directly in front of them, and one to either side.
“This way,” Julie said, taking Jennifer’s hand.
She led Jennifer to the door in front of them, and slowly turned the knob. She pushed it open to reveal a room filled with all sorts of medieval relics: maces, swords, a suit of armor... even a torture rack.
Julie excitedly led Jennifer to the rack.
“Here!” she said. “Okay, get in!”
“What?” Jennifer said. “No way. I’ll play a game with you, but I don’t think your dad would appreciate me messing with his stuff.”
“Oh, he won’t mind,” Julie said. “He lets our babysitters do it all the time. Come on. Please?”
Even Samantha, who hadn’t said a word all night, looked at Jennifer pleadingly.
Reluctantly, Jennifer agreed.
“Okay,” she said. “What do we do?”
Julie clapped her hands.
“Just lay down.”
Jennifer complied. The wood was uncomfortable... then again, it was a torture rack. Julie tried to lock Jennifer’s arms in place, but she couldn’t.
“Jen, could you take off your sweater?” Julie asked.
“What? Why?”
“I can’t get the cuffs around your arms.”
“Julie, I don’t know if I want the cuffs around my arms... it’s a little weird.”
“Pleaase?”
Jennifer sighed. “Oh, all right.”
She took off her sweater, and laid it just beneath the rack.
“Actually, could you take your tank top off, too?”
“No! Julie, what kind of a game is this?!”
“Aww, come on, we’re both girls here, aren’t we?”
“Julie, I don’t think that would be appropriate...”
“Jen, you’re wearing a bra. It’s not that big of a deal. Come on, please?”
“Okay, fine. But this game had better be quick.”
Jennifer took her tank top off and tossed it with her sweater.
Julie snapped Jennifer’s arms into place.
Jennifer hadn’t realized it, but while she was arguing with Julie, Samantha had slipped her shoes and socks off. Now she unbuttoned Jennifer’s pants.
“Samantha! What are you doing?!”
“You’ll see,” Samantha replied, grinning wickedly.
Julie tried to pull her arms free, but they were held firmly in place. She tried to gently throw Samantha off with her legs (she didn’t want to hurt her) but Samantha knew what she was doing. She got Julie’s pants off almost instantly.
Then she cuffed her ankles.
Now Julie lay, spread out on the medieval torture rack, wearing only her bra and panties.
“Guys, this isn’t funny,” Jennifer yelled. “Get me out of here!”
“What’s the matter, Jennifer?” Julie asked. “Don’t you want to play anymore?”
“No!” Jennifer yelled. “Let me out of here, now! You just wait until your mom and dad get home. When I tell them what you’ve done, I–EEEEEEEEEP!” Julie screamed.
Samantha had wiggled her fingers in the hollow of Jennifer’s left armpit.
“They’re so smooth,” Samantha said with what sounded like awe.
“This is going to be fun,” Julie said to her. She grabbed Jennifer’s clothes and handed them to Samantha. “Here, get these out of here,” she said.
“Don’t you dare take my clothes out of here!” Jennifer yelled. “Bring them back here this instant! When I tell your mom and dad”–
“Tell them what, that you made us tie you to this rack once you heard we had it? That you made us take your clothes off first and... touch you?”
Jennifer gasped.
“Why, you little...”
Julie grinned and stuck her tongue out.
“That’s exactly what we’re going to tell them, too, if you don’t shut up.”
Jennifer said nothing, opting instead to glare at the ceiling.
“That’s better,” Julie said. “Now, we’re going to bed. You have fun in here.”
She flicked off the lights.
“Wait, you can’t leave me in here in the dark! Please, don’t do that!”
“Goodnight, Jennifer,” Julie said mockingly as she closed the door behind her.
The light was swallowed by the palpable darkness. Julie lay in fear, trembling and cursing her miserable fate.
***
“Someone, please, help me!” Jennifer screamed yet again. She had spent what seemed to be several hours nearly naked, bound against her will. Those little sadists, Julie thought to herself.
“Help me! Someone, please!”
Suddenly, the door opened. Someone switched the lights on.
“What’s all this yelling about?” a voice said.
Julie realized it was Cynthia.
“Mrs. Steadman!” Julie yelled. “Please, help me! I”–
“Sshhhhhhh,” Mrs. Steadman said, crossing over to her. She came over and gently placed her hand on Jennifer’s forehead.
Jennifer realized that Cynthia was dressed in a strange brown robe with a hood.
Like an inquisitor, Jennifer thought to herself.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” Cynthia whispered, stroking her head. “You’ll be just fine. Are you ready?”
“Ready for what?” Jennifer yelled. “What the fuck is going on here?!”
“Such language,” Cynthia said disapprovingly. “And with the children’s bedrooms so close, too.”
“You and your children are a bunch of sadists!” Jennifer spit. “Let me out of here!”
Cynthia shook her head.
“Tsk tsk. And I thought you were so well behaved. Well, it doesn’t matter. Are you ready... for the torture?”
“T....t-t...torture?” Jennifer gasped.
Cynthia nodded eagerly, an evil light in her eyes.
“Oh, yes. Torture.”
“Please, Mrs. Steadman, don’t do this. Please. Just let me go. I want to go home.” Jennifer was crying.
“Awww, you poor thing,” Mrs. Steadman cooed. “No tears allowed in this house. Only... laughter!”
With that said, she began squeezing Jennifer’s sides eagerly.
Jennifer gasped and screammed.
“AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAH! MRS. STEADMAN!!!! STOOOOOOOP!!!!”
“Is wittle Jennifer ticklish?” Mrs. Steadman cackled. “Tickle tickle tickle!”
Jennifer bucked and thrashed as much as her bonds would allow, but it was no good. Mrs. Steadman continued squeezing her sides. Jennifer couldn’t take it. She was horribly ticklish. All her life, she had never been able to stand much more than a few seconds of tickling. Just the fact that she was bound seemed to intensify Jennifer’s ticklishness to an unbearable degree.
Mrs. Steadman kept squeezing Jennifer’s sides. She seemed to relish in Jennifer’s agony. In fact, her nipples were growing hard at the sound of Jennifer’s sweet laughter. Nothing turned her on more than a bound, helpless, younger ticklish girl, completely at her mercy.
“PLEEEHEHEHEEEZE!! NO MOHOHOHOOOOORE!!”
Mrs. Steadman finally stopped. Jennifer struggled to catch her breath.
“Please, no more,” she panted. “I.... I can’t take it. Let me go. Please.”
Cynthia cocked her head to one side.
“Boy, you certainly are a killjoy, did anyone ever tell you that?” she said. “I’m just getting warmed up. You can’t possibly want to stop now.”
“Please,” Jennifer groaned. “Mrs. Steadman, just let me go home. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”
Cynthia shook her head. “I know what’s wrong. You’re just tired of that spot. I totally agree with you. Time for something new.”
“No, no, no no no...”
“Oh yes. Let’s see... how about the... armpits?”
“No! Mrs. Steadman, please! Not my armpits! They’re so ticklish, I would just die!”
Mrs. Steadman chuckled.
“Is that a promise?”
“No, please! Please, I”–
“Because I’ve always thought, if you’re going to die, you might as well die... laughing.”
“Please, please please please”–
Cynthia quickly dug her fingers into Jennifer’s armpits.
Jennifer’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. Her mouth flew open; the tickling was unreal.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STOOOP!!! STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!”
“Oh? Stop what?” Cynthia asked, furiously tickling Jennifer’s armpits.
“TIIIIIICKLING MEEEEEHEHEHEHEEEEE! AHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Tickling you? You want me to keep tickling you? Okay!”
“NOOOOOOOOOOHOHOHOOO!”
Cynthia tickled Jennifer’s armpits for fifteen minutes, nonstop. By the time she did stop, Jennifer was a mass. She was completely sweaty, and on the verge of passing out. She could barely speak.
“....o....nmore....:” she croaked.
“More?” Mrs. Steadman said eagerly.
Jennifer was too tired to protest.
“Here, let’s just undo this...” she reached over and unlaced Jennifer’s bra.
Then she grinned.
“You naughty girl,” Mrs. Steadman said. “Your nipples are hard.”
She gently stroked them, as if to prove her point.
“You like this, don’t you?”
Jennifer feebly shook her head.
“Oh yes you do,” Cynthia said. “Here, I’ll show you.”
She began squeezing Jennifer’s nipples.
Jennifer squirmed.
“Don’t deny it,” Cynthia said.
Jennifer began to writhe a little more. Then, laughter once again filled the room.
“Hehehehehehehehehehehe Mrs. Steadmehehehehehehehehen, pleheheheheheheheeeese nohoho moohohohohorre ehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe!”
“See, I told you you like it,” Cynthia sneered.
“Nohohohohohohohohohohoho!”
“Such a naughty girl. Yes you are. Yes you are!” She squeezed even tighter, making Jennifer shriek.
“Ahahehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe! Nohohohohohohohohohohoh! Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehe!”
“Oh yeeees!”
“Ahahaheheheheheheheheheheheha!”
Without warning, Cynthia ceased her attack on Jennifer’s nipples and instead began furiously licking her neck.
“AAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! STOOOOHOP PLEEEEEEHEHEHEHEEEZE NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
This tickled Jennifer to an unbelievable degree. Mrs. Steadman’s warm tongue drove Jennifer to new levels of torment; making her buck, thrash, scream and writhe in unbearable ticklish agony.
“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! AAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Cynthia kept lapping at Jennifer’s neck. Nothing tasted better to her than Jennifer’s smooth, flawless skin. She wanted to keep licking forever.
“PLLLEEEEEHEHEHEEEEZE!! NO MOOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHORRE!!! AHAHAHAHAHAhAHAHAhAHA!!! AHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAAAAAAIAIII! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
Cynthia stopped. She wiped her mouth.
“Oh God, please, no more, I can’t take any more. Why are you doing this? What did I do to–AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!”
Cynthia had begun licking the inside of Jennifer’s bellybutton. Jennifer had thought her neck was terrible; this was at least a hundred times worse.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!! AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! MRS. STEADMAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAN!! I’M GOING TO PEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEE!”
But Mrs. Steadman kept licking. And licking. And licking. She licked poor Jennifer’s bellybutton mercilessly.
Jennifer couldn’t take it anymore. A pool of urine welled up all around her, eventually dripping off the edges of the rack.
Mrs. Steadman stopped.
“Well, my dear, it looks as though you’ve had enough.”
“Oh God, yes. Please, no more. Just let me go. Please, I”–
“It just so happens you’re in luck. I’ve had enough as well.”
“So let me go! Please, I beg you, I can’t take anymore, I can’t.”
Mrs. Steadman put a finger to Jennifer’s lips.
“Shhhh. My dear, I said that I had enough.”
Jennifer heard the door open.
“But my husband hasn't had his fun yet!”
“Noooooooo!” Jennifer screamed.
“Jennifer, I have only three words for you: welcome to the family!”
The room filled with laughter. But Jennifer’s continued long after the joke had gotten old.
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awesome story.
