TextbookTickler
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Without further ado, here it is ... hope it lives up to expectation ...
THE TICKLERS' LOTTERY Pt 8.
The exited chattering of the next tickling foursome didn't even register with Jo, as she and Carol strode past the couch in the corridor where they were waiting.
'So ... er ... what's this offer you got Mrs ... Hey ... I don't even know your name', drawled Jo, as Carol ushered her into her plush, private office.
'Just call me Carol dear. Have a seat.'
The sassy red head gestured to a grand leather armchair on one side of her desk.
'So ... Joanne is it?', Carol asked dismissively, pretending to have forgotten her guest's name, in a manner carefully designed to make her feel particularly insignificant.
'Just Jo.', replied the punk girl, somewhat curtly.
'Oh, I'm sorry dear', retorted Carol in a deeply insincere tone. 'So Jo, tell me why you came here today?', On posing this open-ended question, Carol moved round into a large alcove, just out of Jo's line of sight.
'Well ... er ... the ad on the net ... I ...', Jo seemed a little perplexed by the apparent obviousness of the question.
'No dear, I mean WHY did the ad appeal to you in the first place ... tell me about your interest in tickling', interjected Carol, momentarily popping her
head into view around the corner of the room. It appeared to Jo as if she was rifling through a filing cabinet of some sort. She disappeared once more.
'Well, I guess I've just always been into it - you know?' Jo started tentatively. 'I like the feeling of having some poor sap squirming under my fingers, especially preppy little schoolgirls, or prim and proper big shots like that Rachel floozy.'
Jo got no response.
'Hey ... you there lady!?, called Jo with a little indignation. She had never openly explained her tickling fetish before, and she didn't like the idea that
having asked the question, her host appeared to be ignoring her.
'Yes I'm here dear, go on ...'
Jo was craning her neck in an attempt to see exactly what Carol was up to, but Carol's confirmation that she was still listening prompted her to re-take her position and continue her tale.
'Well, I er, dunno really', Jo resumed with a stunning lack of eloquence. 'I guess it all started in school. I ain't big as you can see, but I still had
girls ten inches taller than me screaming for mercy when I slapped a tickle put down on 'em!', Jo was beginning to smile smugly as she recalled some of her past tickling conquests.
'If I could pin 'em down, I'd got 'em! Even if they was too big for that, I could tickle 'em till they lost all their strength!'
'Sounds like you went hunting for victims ...', Carol's voice once again interrupted from her hidden position. 'Did you never come up against a girl you couldn't beat with tickling?'
Jo seemed a little insulted by Carol's question. She clearly took a lot of pride in being the best at her chosen pastime ... as Rachel had only too recently
experienced.
'Well, apart from that bitch just now ...', Jo spat frustratedly, 'I guess maybe one or two - but I always got 'em in the end ... it's just a question of
finding their spots ... you know what I mean?'
'Spots?', enquired Carol from the corner of the room.
'Jesus lady!' snapped Jo, bewildered by her hosts apparent lack of understanding. 'You know ... ticklish spots! I thought you were some kind of expert in ...'
Jo's rant stopped dead.
Carol had emerged from around the corner, and stood in front of the seated Jo once more ... totally nude!
'Wh-what the ... hey lady I ...', Jo was understandably, but refreshingly, lost for words.
'Yes Jo, I know what ticklish spots are', Carol picked up the conversation with a smiling, icy calmness that gave no indication as to her shocking state of
undress.
Jo remained unable to speak. Partly alarmed, partly confused, and partly admiring her host's rather impressively toned body. Although Jo was not a lesbian, a smooth, lithe frame like that of Carol's, ignited her most basic tickler's instincts.
Carol continued ...
'I myself have a number of ticklish spots ... all the usual ones I suppose - My sides, my feet ... my underarms ...', Carol deliberately placed a delicious
emphasis on the final word, simultaneously raising her hands to ruffle her short, sassy hair. This of course exposed her armpits to the now visibly exited Goth.
'What's this all about lady? If you want ...', Jo's utterance was abruptly cut short.
'Quiet. I'm talking now.' Carol purred with a strange combination of authority and gentleness.
'Let me explain ... I want you and I to play a little game. In the drawer of my desk, you will find a key to the office door, and a set of wrist and ankle
restraints. Now here's the rules: You tie me to the desk, in any fashion you want, and then go and lock the office door. From that point, you are allowed
to tickle me all over for exactly five minutes, no matter what I say, or how much I beg you to stop. How does that sound?'
'You got it lady!', yelped Jo, as she leapt out of her seat, and reached for the desk drawer, with a child-like excitement entirely consistent with the fact that she couldn't believe her own luck.
'Ah-ah! Wait a moment young lady!', Carol piped up. 'I haven't explained the important part yet ... Once your five minutes is up, you MUST, and I repeat,
MUST stop tickling me immediately. With that door locked, and these restraints on, I will be powerless to release myself until Tara brings me my tea in just under three hours time. Do you understand what I am saying Jo?', Carol fixed her eyes on the young punk, as if to re-enforce the importance of her last question.
'Er ... yeh, well, no ... I'm not sure ... what the hell is this for?' Jo asked, clearly dazed by the bizarre goings on of the past few minutes.
'It's very simple dear ... I want to test you! You see, I like to have people working for me who are skilled ticklers. From what I saw of you in that
bedroom just now, I believe you have the potential to be just that. But what you lack is the self control to be a truly reliable member of my staff. I need
to know that you can control your clear desire to tickle and torment, and not let it control you.', Jo's face suggested that a very slight seed of
understanding was beginning to plant itself in her brain.
'I think I get it ... so if I stop tickling you after five minutes, I get a job right!?'
'That's roughly the idea, yes. But it won't be as easy as you think. Just consider this ... once you've tickled me for five minutes, you'll know just how incredibly ticklish I am, and whatever happens, you know that I'll be bound and naked on this desk for the next three hours. Are you sure you'll be able to resist the urge to tickle me some more? Do you see why this will be such a good test dear?'
'Whatever!', answered Jo, clearly not paying much attention to the naked woman's last statement. She was far to eager to get tickling again!
Jo darted to the desk drawer, and sure enough, inside was the key to the door, and four leather bondage cuffs, complete with rope. She took them out, and glanced questioningly at Carol once more.
'That's right dear - It's over to you now', the organizer said plainly. 'But be warned ... five minutes. A second longer, and ... well, let's just say, I
shall not be employing you!' With a final, icy stare, Carol perched herself on the edge of the large antique desk, and swivelled around to lie across its
length.
In truth, Jo still couldn't understand why her latest victim would want to do this. She had money, power, and until now, had appeared to be the embodiment of lady-like serenity. Why would she put herself in such a vulnerable position at the hands of a ruthless tickler like her? As Jo began to fasten Carol's pale skinned, shapely limbs to the enormous, solid supports of the desk, she became more and more suspicious.
'This is some kinda trick right? I bet you're not ticklish or something ... that's it, I bet you just wanna prove that there ARE some people out there that
can't be beat by tickling ... I'm right aren't I?'
'Why don't you go and lock the door and you can find out, I can't stop you now!' Carol put this to Jo, with an unbelievably matter-of-fact tone, which completely belied the fact that the final wrist cuff had just be locked in place, and she was now bound, stretched, and helpless.
Jo didn't need telling twice. She jogged over to the large walnut door, and turned the key firmly in the lock, checking the handle after she had done so.
There was no doubt that the only exit to the room was securely fastened.
Jo returned to the desk, and looked over her rather alluring, defenceless prey. For her age, Carol's body was remarkably smooth, and almost athletic.
'You've got five minutes from when that clock's minute hand reaches twelve. It will be up to you to keep an eye on the time and stop after EXACTLY five minutes.', Jo was still looking Carol's body up and down with a wicked tickler's glint in her eye.
For the first time, the slightest twinge of nervousness crept into Carol's voice;
'You got that Missy? - FIVE minutes!'
'Yeh, yeh, yeh - I know!', replied Jo like a little kid who's sick of being told something.
Both women looked towards the large gold clock on the wall.
15 seconds to the hour...
Carol's whole body squirmed slightly, bracing herself against the hard, uncomfortable desk.
10 seconds ...
Jo flexed her ten, talon-like fingernails, as they hovered over the millionaire's bare torso.
5 seconds ...
Carol closed her eyes, with a slight grimace, and laid her head back onto the desk.
Zero ...
'It's tickling time lady!!!', Jo moved in for the kill.
To be continued ...
THE TICKLERS' LOTTERY Pt 8.
The exited chattering of the next tickling foursome didn't even register with Jo, as she and Carol strode past the couch in the corridor where they were waiting.
'So ... er ... what's this offer you got Mrs ... Hey ... I don't even know your name', drawled Jo, as Carol ushered her into her plush, private office.
'Just call me Carol dear. Have a seat.'
The sassy red head gestured to a grand leather armchair on one side of her desk.
'So ... Joanne is it?', Carol asked dismissively, pretending to have forgotten her guest's name, in a manner carefully designed to make her feel particularly insignificant.
'Just Jo.', replied the punk girl, somewhat curtly.
'Oh, I'm sorry dear', retorted Carol in a deeply insincere tone. 'So Jo, tell me why you came here today?', On posing this open-ended question, Carol moved round into a large alcove, just out of Jo's line of sight.
'Well ... er ... the ad on the net ... I ...', Jo seemed a little perplexed by the apparent obviousness of the question.
'No dear, I mean WHY did the ad appeal to you in the first place ... tell me about your interest in tickling', interjected Carol, momentarily popping her
head into view around the corner of the room. It appeared to Jo as if she was rifling through a filing cabinet of some sort. She disappeared once more.
'Well, I guess I've just always been into it - you know?' Jo started tentatively. 'I like the feeling of having some poor sap squirming under my fingers, especially preppy little schoolgirls, or prim and proper big shots like that Rachel floozy.'
Jo got no response.
'Hey ... you there lady!?, called Jo with a little indignation. She had never openly explained her tickling fetish before, and she didn't like the idea that
having asked the question, her host appeared to be ignoring her.
'Yes I'm here dear, go on ...'
Jo was craning her neck in an attempt to see exactly what Carol was up to, but Carol's confirmation that she was still listening prompted her to re-take her position and continue her tale.
'Well, I er, dunno really', Jo resumed with a stunning lack of eloquence. 'I guess it all started in school. I ain't big as you can see, but I still had
girls ten inches taller than me screaming for mercy when I slapped a tickle put down on 'em!', Jo was beginning to smile smugly as she recalled some of her past tickling conquests.
'If I could pin 'em down, I'd got 'em! Even if they was too big for that, I could tickle 'em till they lost all their strength!'
'Sounds like you went hunting for victims ...', Carol's voice once again interrupted from her hidden position. 'Did you never come up against a girl you couldn't beat with tickling?'
Jo seemed a little insulted by Carol's question. She clearly took a lot of pride in being the best at her chosen pastime ... as Rachel had only too recently
experienced.
'Well, apart from that bitch just now ...', Jo spat frustratedly, 'I guess maybe one or two - but I always got 'em in the end ... it's just a question of
finding their spots ... you know what I mean?'
'Spots?', enquired Carol from the corner of the room.
'Jesus lady!' snapped Jo, bewildered by her hosts apparent lack of understanding. 'You know ... ticklish spots! I thought you were some kind of expert in ...'
Jo's rant stopped dead.
Carol had emerged from around the corner, and stood in front of the seated Jo once more ... totally nude!
'Wh-what the ... hey lady I ...', Jo was understandably, but refreshingly, lost for words.
'Yes Jo, I know what ticklish spots are', Carol picked up the conversation with a smiling, icy calmness that gave no indication as to her shocking state of
undress.
Jo remained unable to speak. Partly alarmed, partly confused, and partly admiring her host's rather impressively toned body. Although Jo was not a lesbian, a smooth, lithe frame like that of Carol's, ignited her most basic tickler's instincts.
Carol continued ...
'I myself have a number of ticklish spots ... all the usual ones I suppose - My sides, my feet ... my underarms ...', Carol deliberately placed a delicious
emphasis on the final word, simultaneously raising her hands to ruffle her short, sassy hair. This of course exposed her armpits to the now visibly exited Goth.
'What's this all about lady? If you want ...', Jo's utterance was abruptly cut short.
'Quiet. I'm talking now.' Carol purred with a strange combination of authority and gentleness.
'Let me explain ... I want you and I to play a little game. In the drawer of my desk, you will find a key to the office door, and a set of wrist and ankle
restraints. Now here's the rules: You tie me to the desk, in any fashion you want, and then go and lock the office door. From that point, you are allowed
to tickle me all over for exactly five minutes, no matter what I say, or how much I beg you to stop. How does that sound?'
'You got it lady!', yelped Jo, as she leapt out of her seat, and reached for the desk drawer, with a child-like excitement entirely consistent with the fact that she couldn't believe her own luck.
'Ah-ah! Wait a moment young lady!', Carol piped up. 'I haven't explained the important part yet ... Once your five minutes is up, you MUST, and I repeat,
MUST stop tickling me immediately. With that door locked, and these restraints on, I will be powerless to release myself until Tara brings me my tea in just under three hours time. Do you understand what I am saying Jo?', Carol fixed her eyes on the young punk, as if to re-enforce the importance of her last question.
'Er ... yeh, well, no ... I'm not sure ... what the hell is this for?' Jo asked, clearly dazed by the bizarre goings on of the past few minutes.
'It's very simple dear ... I want to test you! You see, I like to have people working for me who are skilled ticklers. From what I saw of you in that
bedroom just now, I believe you have the potential to be just that. But what you lack is the self control to be a truly reliable member of my staff. I need
to know that you can control your clear desire to tickle and torment, and not let it control you.', Jo's face suggested that a very slight seed of
understanding was beginning to plant itself in her brain.
'I think I get it ... so if I stop tickling you after five minutes, I get a job right!?'
'That's roughly the idea, yes. But it won't be as easy as you think. Just consider this ... once you've tickled me for five minutes, you'll know just how incredibly ticklish I am, and whatever happens, you know that I'll be bound and naked on this desk for the next three hours. Are you sure you'll be able to resist the urge to tickle me some more? Do you see why this will be such a good test dear?'
'Whatever!', answered Jo, clearly not paying much attention to the naked woman's last statement. She was far to eager to get tickling again!
Jo darted to the desk drawer, and sure enough, inside was the key to the door, and four leather bondage cuffs, complete with rope. She took them out, and glanced questioningly at Carol once more.
'That's right dear - It's over to you now', the organizer said plainly. 'But be warned ... five minutes. A second longer, and ... well, let's just say, I
shall not be employing you!' With a final, icy stare, Carol perched herself on the edge of the large antique desk, and swivelled around to lie across its
length.
In truth, Jo still couldn't understand why her latest victim would want to do this. She had money, power, and until now, had appeared to be the embodiment of lady-like serenity. Why would she put herself in such a vulnerable position at the hands of a ruthless tickler like her? As Jo began to fasten Carol's pale skinned, shapely limbs to the enormous, solid supports of the desk, she became more and more suspicious.
'This is some kinda trick right? I bet you're not ticklish or something ... that's it, I bet you just wanna prove that there ARE some people out there that
can't be beat by tickling ... I'm right aren't I?'
'Why don't you go and lock the door and you can find out, I can't stop you now!' Carol put this to Jo, with an unbelievably matter-of-fact tone, which completely belied the fact that the final wrist cuff had just be locked in place, and she was now bound, stretched, and helpless.
Jo didn't need telling twice. She jogged over to the large walnut door, and turned the key firmly in the lock, checking the handle after she had done so.
There was no doubt that the only exit to the room was securely fastened.
Jo returned to the desk, and looked over her rather alluring, defenceless prey. For her age, Carol's body was remarkably smooth, and almost athletic.
'You've got five minutes from when that clock's minute hand reaches twelve. It will be up to you to keep an eye on the time and stop after EXACTLY five minutes.', Jo was still looking Carol's body up and down with a wicked tickler's glint in her eye.
For the first time, the slightest twinge of nervousness crept into Carol's voice;
'You got that Missy? - FIVE minutes!'
'Yeh, yeh, yeh - I know!', replied Jo like a little kid who's sick of being told something.
Both women looked towards the large gold clock on the wall.
15 seconds to the hour...
Carol's whole body squirmed slightly, bracing herself against the hard, uncomfortable desk.
10 seconds ...
Jo flexed her ten, talon-like fingernails, as they hovered over the millionaire's bare torso.
5 seconds ...
Carol closed her eyes, with a slight grimace, and laid her head back onto the desk.
Zero ...
'It's tickling time lady!!!', Jo moved in for the kill.
To be continued ...
