Hello, all. Here's a little something from newsgroup days, revised and updated. I'll be posting a few more Gore Golden Oldies in the weeks to com. Hope you enjoy!
"Sandy, it's so GOOD to see you again after all these years."
There was a terrible gloating satisfaction in the tone of Monique's voice, and Sandra felt dreadfully certain that something very, very bad was about to happen. But what? Just what the hell was going ON—?!
She remembered bumping into Monique in the hotel lobby. . . remembered chatting with her during the reunion dinner. . . remembered meeting her later that evening for a drink in the bar. . .but what had happened then?
There was a blank place in Sandra’s mind. All she knew was that she'd opened her eyes a minute ago and found herself, here. . .with Monique. And she wouldn't be leaving any time soon.
That was all too obvious.
She was stark naked, for one thing, and her clothes were nowhere in sight. Worse still, she was laying face-up on a bed, arms above her head, wrists tied together, legs spread, both wrists and ankles secured to the brass rails at the head and foot of the bed. There was a pillow under her head, but that was the only concession to comfort. The ropes were pulled tight, tensing her body slightly and preventing all but the slightest movements. Sandra's flesh crawled as she realized how helpless and exposed she was.
As for Monique, she was standing by the side of the bed, dressed in nothing but scrimpy black panties. She'd changed quite a bit since high school and now, at the age of thirty-seven, was a very striking woman indeed. You couldn't call Monique beautiful—her face was too severe, with strong dark brows and a hawkish profile—but she was certainly handsome. Twenty years ago she'd been a tall, awkward girl, all knees and elbows; now she was lithe and slender, with a bodily poise that spoke of good muscle tone. Her dark brown hair was cropped short. Her chocolate-colored eyes held a glint of amusement. Sandra noticed that Monique's dark red-painted fingernails were long and sharply pointed. For some reason she couldn't quite fathom, that detail was disturbing.
"I suppose you're wondering why I brought you here, Sandy." Monique's lips twisted up in an evil grin. We'll discuss that later, perhaps, but first let me ask YOU a question."
"What?" Sandra's voice quavered. "Monique, what IS all this?
"All in good time, darling." Monique patted Sandra's thigh. "What I wanted to ask was: How well do you remember our high school days?"
"Pretty well, I guess," Sandra answered in a puzzled voice. "As well as anyone, I guess. But what—MMMMPH!"
"Hush, now." Monique had placed a hand over her mouth. She gazed into Sandra's frightened eyes. "Be quiet or I'll have to give you a PUNISHMENT, darling. We're quite alone here and no one will hear you if you scream. Understand?"
Sandra nodded. Monique took her hand away. "So you remember those days, do you? Perhaps not as well as you think—or you wouldn't be wondering why I've brought you here."
Sandra bit her lip and said nothing.
Monique moved to the foot of the bed. "Now my next question, Sandy, has rather a direct bearing on your current situation. It is just this: Are you TICKLISH, darling?"
Before Sandra could answer, something hard and sharp brushed up the sole of her right foot, from heel to toes. An indescribable sensation shot up her shapely leg. "AAAAHAAA!!!" she squealed, wiggling in her bonds.
"I believe you've answered my question, Sandy." Monique chuckled. "Now the only remaining question is: Just how ticklish ARE you? Shall we find out?”
She began raking her fingernail up and down the sole of her captive’s foot, not rapidly but steadily. Sandra wiggled harder.
"NO—STOP—HEE-EEE-HEE-HEE!!!" she squealed. "OH NOT MY FEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEET!!! AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA!! IT TICK-HICK-EEEE-HICK-HICKLES!!!”
"Really?" Monique stroked faster. "Does it tickle just a LITTLE, darling? Or does it tickle a LOT?”
"AAH-HAA!!! AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA!!! AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!" Sandra bellowed. She tried in vain to jerk her foot away from Monique's dancing fingernail. "OH-HO-HO-OH-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!"
"Oooooo, it DOES tickle a lot, doesn't it?" Monique cupped Sandra's heel in one hand and stroked the top of the foot with all four fingers of the other hand. "It just tickles you to BITS, darling, isn't that so?"
"EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Sandra howled. Her frantic struggles shook the bed. "BWAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!"
"My, my—your little toes are squirming all OVER the place, Sandy." Monique gave the tortured foot a final tickle and let if fall. "Why don't you rest for a moment while I fix that?"
Sandra would have begged for mercy at that point, if she hadn't been too busy gasping for breath. Her foot and leg still tingled with ticklish sensations. She could feel cold sweat on her face, breasts, and belly. The thought of more tickling sent a greasy thrill of fear through her guts.
"This should do the trick," Monique said. She looped string around Sandra's right big toe and tied the free end to the brass bed rail. The effect was to tense and immobilize the foot. "Now just let me do your left foot, darling, and we'll be all set."
"Omygod please NO!” Sandra moaned. "No more, Monique! I'm BEGGING you!"
"But Sandy, that was just a TASTE of things to come!" Monique smiled coldly. "We have HOURS of fun and games ahead of us."
"I'll SCREAM!" Sandra insisted. "I'll scream until someone COMES!"
"Scream away, darling." Monique chuckled. "There's no one to hear you. I made sure to rent a nice, secluded house. No neighbors, an old-fashioned brass bed in the upstairs back bedroom—the moment I saw this place I knew it was perfect."
"But WHY?!” Sandra sobbed. "Why are you DOING this?"
"Because I REMEMBER, Sandra." Monique’s voice had sunk to a whisper. "I remember when you and I were seventeen."
"I don't UNDERSTAND!”
"You will, darling." Monique took Sandra's left baby toe between thumb and forefinger, and wiggled it. "You know, it's interesting," she added in a lighter tone. It's been twenty years and you've hardly changed at all. Still the cutie-pie blonde with the hot cheerleader bod, aren't you, Sandy?"
"I. . .I do aerobics," Sandra stammered. "And I play tennis."
"Yes, you would." Monique wiggled the toe again. "But I've changed quite a bit since graduation, don't you think?"
"Yes." Sandra agreed immediately. Keep the bitch talking, she thought desperately. Anything—ANYTHING—to postpone the tickling!
But Monique must have been a mind reader.
"We'll continue our conversation during your next break, darling," she said. "But now, I'm afraid, it's time to proceed with your lesson."
"No!" Sandra wailed. "Not again! Don't tickle me AGAIN!”
Monique didn't bother to respond to Sandra's plea. She simply smiled. Then she went to work with her sharp nails on BOTH feet!
"EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE!!!" Sandra shrieked. "AAAAAAH-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!"
"Are we having FUN yet?" Monique inquired.
"EEEEYAAAA-HAAA-HAAA-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-HAAA-YAAA-HAAA-HAAA!!!" Sandra howled. "HIIIIEEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEEE-HEEE!!!"
It was worse than before—MUCH worse, Sandra realized as she thrashed in her bonds, screaming with hysterical laughter. The horrid, unbearable sensations produced by Monique's dancing fingers were shooting up her legs, plucking at every nerve in her body, and there was no way in the world to make it STOP—! Gooseflesh roughened her skin. Tears streamed from her eyes. Her breasts tingled and her nipples extended themselves. “HAAAA-UUUUGH!!! 'HAAAA-UUUUGH!!! AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAAAA-UUUUGH!!!” she screamed.
"Let's try right here," Monique suggested, drawing her nails along the side of the feet.
"YAAAAHAAAA-HAAHAA-AAH-HAAHAA-AAH-HAAHAA!!!" Sandra screamed, fighting hard for air. "OH-HO-UGH-HO-UGH-HO-HO-HO-UGH-OH-HO-HO-HO-HO!!!"
"And here." Monique's nails raked stroked the balls of the feet.
"HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Sandra howled. "EEEEYAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”
"And let's not forget your oh-so-sensitive *arches*," Monique added.
"AAH-UGH! HAA-UGH! UH-UH-UH-UH-HA-UH-UH-UH-UUUUGH!!!" Sandy grunted. She could no longer suck in enough air to produce a full-throated shriek.
"Goodness, Sandy, your face has turned the most startling shade of PINK," Monique observed with a smirk. "Perhaps I'd better stop for a moment."
Mercifully, she did. After a minute or two of gasping for breath, Sandra wept with relief.
"I must be careful not to wear you out, darling. "Monique had moved to the side of the bed and was looking down with a smile. "The drug I used seems to have increased your sensitivity to tickling even more than I thought it would."
"Wha-?" Sandra wheezed. "Drug?"
"Yes." Monique reached down and tweaked Sandra's nose. "Didn't I mention that I work for a pharmaceutical company? That's right, darling, I'm a research chemist." She laughed. "It was the drug that inspired me to arrange our little tryst.”
Sandra lay there, panting. She lacked the energy to do more.
"A MOST interesting compound," Monique continued in the tone of a university lecturer. “One tiny dose will render any human being totally defenseless against suggestion. So I slipped some into your drink, Sandy. About thirty seconds after you ingested it, I simply ordered you to come with me. And you did. When we got here, I ordered you to undress and lie down on this bed. And you did. I ordered you to lie still while I tied you. And you did. Then it was simply a matter of waiting until the drug wore off."
"Monique. . .please. . ."
But the svelte tormentress ignored Sandra's faint plea and went on with her lecture.
"You came around with no memory of anything from the time you ingested the drug to the time it wore off, yes? That's another interesting effect of this compound—it wipes the mind of everything that has happened during the drugged interlude." Monique chuckled. "And finally, as I mentioned, it increases bodily sensitivity for a period that varies with the age, weight and sex of the subject. In your case, this increased sensitivity should last up to twelve hours."
Sandra's eyes widened with terror. "Omygod!" she sobbed. "Omygod I won't be able to STAND it! You'll KILL me!"
"Don't worry, darling." Monique patted Sandra's cheek. "I'll be careful."
And with that, she climbed onto the bed and knelt between Sandra's wide-open legs. Sandra cringed in her bonds in anticipation of another bout of tickling. But Monique seemed in no hurry. She was looking down at her helpless victim with a dreamy expression.
"You know, Sandy," she whispered, "I hate to admit this, considering that you treated me like SHIT in high school, you bitch, but I DO find you, well, rather attractive."
"What? What do you MEAN?!”
"Oh, didn't I mention that I prefer girls?" Monique giggled. "Well, it's true. And I'm thinking, now that I have you here, hmmmm, yes, that might be fun. . .”
"But I'm not that way! I'm NOT!”
“Oh, I bet you say that to ALL the girls!” Monique smiled and shook her head. “For the moment, however, let's just try THIS!”
And with no more ado, Monique leaned forward and darted her fingers into Sandra's tender, defenseless armpits!
"EEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Sandra shrieked. "AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA!!!" Her arms jerked spasmodically as Monique's fingernails probed and stroked. If anything, this was WORSE than having her feet tickled. And even if her body could hold up under such torture, Sandra realized, her mind might not. The nonstop laughter was driving her to the brink of total fucking HYSTERIA—!
"HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!!" she howled. "YAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-YAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!"
Monique's hands slipped down from Sandra's armpits to her upper sides. Her fingernails dug in and wiggled.
"BWAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!" Sandra screeched. Her body convulsed under this new assault. Her laughter-crimsoned face was twisted into a grimace of anguished hilarity; the hairs on her arms stood up and quivered; her skin broke out in a delicate cold sweat; and her breasts swayed as she writhed in her bonds.
Monique continued to tickle, moving her hands down Sandra's ribcage, until her victim's laughter died away to a gasping wheeze. When she finally stopped, Sandra kept wheezing.
"Heeeeeeee. . .heeeeeeee. . .heeeeeeee. . ." She could still FEEL those torturing fingernails—! "Heeee. . .heeee. . .heeee. . ."
"Now, now, darling." Monique brushed Sandra's sweat-soaked hair from her forehead. "It's okay. You're doing just fine."
"Hee. . .hee. . .hee. . ."
"Poor dear," Monique cooed. "Poor Sandy-candy." She leaned forward to kiss the tip of Sandra's nose. "I've been soooo mean to you, haven't I?"
"No. . .more. . ." Sandra managed to croak.
"Would you like me to be NICE to you, Sandy-candy?"
Scarcely aware of what was happening, Sandra croaked "Yes. . ."
Monique smiled lazily and put a hand on Sandra's breast. She used her palm to caress the erect nipple. "Mmmm," she muttered. "Are you getting EXCITED, darling? Are your insides starting to feel all WARM and LOOSE?”
Both of Monique's hands were on Sandra's breasts now. She arched her back in response. It DID feel nice. VERY nice. . .
"Want me to kiss?" Monique whispered.
"Yes!" Sandra whispered back.
Monique leaned down. Her tongue darted out to tease Sandra's right nipple.
"Oooooooo!" Sandra moaned deliciously. "Aaaaaaaah!"
"Didn't I tell you?" Monique said, raising her head for a moment. "You DO like this, don't you?"
"Oh, God, YES—!”
"Want me to stop?"
"Oh, no, PLEASE—!”
Sandra just couldn't help herself. Despite all that this bitch had put her through, she wanted Monique to keep kissing—and touching—and stroking her belly—and oh, YES, putting her hand down THERE—!
"Want me to DO it Sandy-candy?" Monique was running a finger up and down Sandra's damp slit. "Want me to make you CUM?”
Sandra answered with a grunt and a wiggle of her hips.
"Okay. . .if you insist. . ."
Monique began to stroke.
The muscles in Sandra's legs tensed. Her asshole tightened. Her svelte belly rippled.
"Getting close?" Monique inquired softly.
"Aaaah!" Sandra moaned. "Aaaah YES—!”
"REAL close?” Monique stroked a little faster. "Tell me when you're really, REALLY close to cumming, Sandy-candy."
"Oh SHIT—don't STOP—I want to fucking CUM!” Sandra gasped, thrashing in her bonds. "Oh YES—oh PLEASE—go FAST—I'm going to CUM—!”
"No, you're not," said Monique. She stopped stroking.
"Don't STOP! Sandra wailed, thrusting her hips to maintain contact with Monique's retreating finger. "I want to CUM—!”
"Perhaps later," Monique said. She raised an eyebrow. "But first, Sandy dear, we really should proceed with your punishment. Business before pleasure, yes?"
"Oh GOD! Please NO!" Sandra cried. She was trembling with fear and sexual frustration. "Not again!"
Monique got off the bed. "Let's see if those pretty feet of yours are still ticklish, darling. Sexual arousal is supposed to increase the level of bodily sensitivity, you know. Isn't that interesting?"
Sandra began to weep.
"No crying, now, Sandy. I like to be surrounded by happy, smiling faces." Monique raised her hands and flexed her fingers. "In fact, I INSIST!”
So the joke was on Sandra. But she laughed anyway, at the top of her lungs, with scarcely a pause to breathe, far, far into the night. . .
"Welcome back, darling! Are you feeling all fresh and rested? I hope so, because it's playtime again!"
As the cobwebs cleared and she realized where she was, Sandra moaned.
"You finally passed out last night," Monique explained. "So I let you sleep. When you started to wake up, I administered another dose of the drug. Under its influence, you ate breakfast, had a shower and took care of various personal needs. Then you let me reposition you for the second phase of your punishment."
Sandra realized that she was still naked, still on the bed, still tied to the rails—but face-down now, with a couple of pillows under her belly. The effect was to elevate her bare behind—which Monique now patted affectionately.
"If you think last night was. . .interesting," Monique whispered, THIS little treatment should absolutely blow you AWAY!"
"Monique! Please! Let me GO!” Sandra wailed.
"No way," her tormentress answered, climbing onto the bed and kneeling between Sandra's legs. “ Though I MIGHT let you CUM, darling." She giggled. "Then again, I might not."
It was a prospect that made Sandra's blood run cold. She remembered how awful it had been last night—how Monique had teased her to the brink of orgasm time and time again, only to deny Sandra the blessed release she craved and resume the horrid tickling. She couldn't take any more of THAT! She just COULDN’T! It would drive her out of her fucking MIND—!
"Shall we begin?”" And with an evil smile, Monique leaned forward and sank her fingernails into Sandra's tender armpits!
"GAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA!!!" Sandra bellowed. "HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!! AAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”
"Oooo, does that TICKLE?” Monique cooed. "Does it make you WIGGLE and GIGGLE, Sandy-candy?"
"HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Sandra screamed. "EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE- HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE!!!"
"Yes, it DOES!” Monique exclaimed. She moved her hands to tickle Sandra's upper sides. "Now, wiggle that cute little ass for me, Sandy-candy. “Come on, now—wiggle, wiggle, WIGGLE!”
"EEEEYAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-EEEEYAAAA-HAA-HAA!!!" Sandra bellowed. She her bare behind. She wiggled it HARD. "EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE- HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!"
Monique's hands slipped down to Sandra's ribs.
On and on the ticklish torment went. Sandra struggled frantically to jerk her arms and legs free of their bonds. She squirmed. She writhed. She sweated. And she laughed. She laughed like a fucking IDIOT! She laughed and fucking LAUGHED until it seemed that her sole reason for being was to gasp in another breath of air so she could fucking LAUGH some more—!
"Well!" said Monique as she finally and mercifully stopped tickling. "Now that I have your undivided attention, darling, it's time for a small lesson in anatomy."
"Heeeeeeee. . ." Sandra wheezed. "Heeee-heeee-heeee. . ."
"Did you know, darling, that the human anus is one of the most sensitive areas of the body?" She chuckled. "Well, it is! There are oodles and OODLES of nerve endings back there. Here, let me demonstrate.”
There was a brief, ominous pause—then Sandra felt something that was totally indescribable. It was so horrid that for a moment her tortured body simply didn't react at all. Then the sensation intensified—!
"EEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" Sandra screeched at the top of her lungs. Her entire body convulsed. "EEEEEEEEEEEEHIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!"
Monique was TICKLING her back there! She was STROKING it with something! Sandra writhed. Had such a thing been anatomically possible, she'd have turned herself inside fucking OUT—!
"It's just a FEATHER darling," Monique informed her in a mocking voice. "Just a nice, stiff, pointed feather teasing that little brown spot. . ."
Sandra didn't reply. Her attention was one hundred percent concentrated on the exquisite, maddening, UNENDURABLE sensation that was shooting up her asshole and churning her guts. She squealed in torment. . .but it wasn't torment. . .not JUST torment. . .because the dancing feather was doing something else as well. . .something *bad* but oh! so GOOD—!
She realized what she wanted—not for the torture to stop, but for Monique to let the feather slip lower, just a little, because there was a spot where she was DYING to be touched—!
"I think you LIKE it, darling." With her free hand, Monique stroked Sandra's trembling thigh. "I think it makes you all hot and squirmy, Sandy-candy, all damp and excited and longing to CUM!"
Sandra's hips pumped up and down in agreement.
"But WHY should I be nice to you, Sandy-candy, hmmmm?" Monique was stroking more slowly now. "You were SUCH a bitch to me in high school, darling. What was it you and your shitty little friends used to call me?"
"Aaaah. . .I don't. . .aaaah. . .can't. ..remember. . ."
"But I remember." Monique stroked rapidly for just a moment. "Beanpole. THAT was one name. And Ugly Stick. That was another one."
"Heeeeeeee. . .heeeeeeee. . .heeeeeeee. . ."
"Well, perhaps I shouldn't hold such a grudge." Monique laughed and withdrew the feather. "Tell you what, darling, I'm going to let you cum."
Sandra's bare behind moved in a small, desperate circle.
"There's a catch," Monique added.
"Anything, Monique!" Sandra gasped. "ANYTHING!”
"You have to promise to be nice to ME.”
"I DO!" Sandra agreed eagerly. "I WILL! Monique oh *PLEASE just make me CUM—!
"But how do I know you'll keep your promise?" Monique swirled the feather over Sandra's bare behind. "How can I be SURE, Sandy-candy?"
"Aaaah-aaaah-aaaah-I PROMISE—!”
"Maybe we should think about this," Monique suggested. She kept swirling the feather over Sandra's wiggling posterior. "Maybe we shouldn't rush into such an INTIMATE relationship, darling. Maybe we should get to know one another a bit better first.
Sandra began to weep. She knew what was coming.
Monique sighed. "Sorry, Sandy, but I just don't think you're ready for a committed relationship. You're going to have to prove yourself to me first. And I think you know what THAT means, darling, don't you?"
"Monique! I'm begging you! Oh PLEASE don't TICKLE me again! Sandra struggled against her bonds. "You're going to drive me out of my fucking MIND if you keep tickling me!"
"There is that possibility," Monique agreed. "Which, if you look at it from my point of view, darling, wouldn't be all that disappointing an outcome. But I think you're going to surprise yourself, Sandy. Why, in an hour or two, when you think back to what you've just said, you'll just laugh and laugh!"
"HELP!" Sandra screamed hysterically. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME PLEASE!"
"Let's try your FEET again, Sandy-candy." Monique reached back with both hands. "Ready or not, here we go!"
"EEEEEE-HEHEHE-EEEEEE-HEHEHE-EEEEEE-HEHEHE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Sandra howled as Monique's nails raked the soles of her feet. "EEEEEEAAAAAAH-HAHAHA-AAAAAAH-HAHAHA-AAAAH-HAHAHA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”
Monique didn't stop this time until she'd tickled all the way from Sandra's feet to her armpits. Then after a brief pause, she started back down.
She knew it was useless to struggle, but Sandra couldn't help herself. Monique's tickling fingers made her writhe and thrash and tremble—they made her skin crawl with wave after wave of gooseflesh—they made her sweat glands redouble production—they made her contorted face turn bright pink as she screamed with manic, hideous, nonstop fucking LAUGHTER—!
Monique finally stopped after two round trips around her victim's increasingly exhausted body. She gave Sandra a couple of minutes to catch her breath, then reapplied the feather to that same agonizingly sensitive anal orifice. "AAAARRRRUUUUNNNNGGGG!!!" Sandra half-screamed, half-grunted. "HIIIIEEEEGGGGRRRRUUUUMMMMPH!!!"
Between the horrific tickling and her now-urgent need to achieve orgasmic release, Sandra was being driven absolutely CRAZY! She wiggled her ass in a vain attempt to make Monique go LOWER with the feather. At every pause in the torture, she begged and demanded to be allowed to cum. But Monique merely chuckled and continued to caress Sandra's asshole. Every now and then, for variety, she reached back to tickle one of Sandra's helpless feet.
"All right, Sandy-candy," Monique said finally. "Perhaps you've suffered enough for the moment. So, want to cum now?"
"Yes, yes, YES!” Sandra wailed. "DO me! Do me NOW—!”
Monique let the feather slip down to her victim's curl-covered mount—and stroked.
Sandra screamed again—but it was a gentle sound this time, soft and deep in her throat. Each caress of the feather sent a delicious, pulsing thrill through her body. The only trouble was that Monique wasn't stroking quite FAST enough—or HARD enough—!
Then Monique withdrew the feather and replaced it with her hand. THAT was more like it, Sandra told herself, pumping her hips to increase the friction. That felt absolutely WONDERFUL—!
"Ooooo, you're all wet and EXCITED, Sandy-candy!" Monique giggled. "I guess you LIKE it when I touch you this way."
"Oh, YES!" Sandra moaned.
"And this way?" Monique stroked with the tips of her fingers.
“UUH!!!” Sandra grunted. “UUH!!! UUH!!! UUUUUUUUH!!!”
"Mmmm, darling, I think you're getting close—REAL close."
Sandra ground her hips against Monique's steady hand.
She could feel it—oh, she could fucking FEEL it—it was going to HAPPEN—she was going to CUM—and then Monique did something with her hand and Sandra's body tensed in anticipation—and it DID happen—and Sandra forgot about everything except the racing tidal wave of absolute ECSTASY that swept over her—!
Sandra experienced six orgasms before Monique withdrew her clever hand. And then she grunted in joyous surprise as Monique added a final touch by applying the feather to Sandra's brown spot once more. It made every nerve in her body vibrate with delight.
That's what did it for her. Later, when she had the time to think things over, Sandra realized that Monique's ticklish chaser to orgasm had been the deciding factor. Never, not EVER had she felt anything remotely like THAT—!
"Want me to do that again," Monique whispered, caressing her prisoner’s squirming behind. "Want to go AGAIN, Sandy-candy?"
"Yes. . ."
"But you'll have to be TICKLED again first, darling. Those are the rules." Monique giggled. "Still want to go again?"
"Yes. . ." Sandra breathed. "Please. . ."
"Okay, but I think you're going to need a break before we proceed, Sandy." Monique got off the bed. "I don't want to wear you out. We have the whole weekend ahead of us."
"All. . .right. . ."
"I'm still feeling mean," Monique added in a cautionary tone. "I'm still in the mood to PUNISH you, Sandy-candy. You're going to be tickled absolutely PINK before I let you cum again."
"I don't. . .care. . ." Sandra moaned.
"Okay, if you're sure. "Monique patted Sandra's ass. "Just relax, darling. Let me get another dose of the drug. Once it's taken effect, I'll untie you."
Sandra raised her head.
"I don’t think we’ll need the drug," she whispered.
Sweet Revenge #6
THE BACK BEDROOM
Part One
THE BACK BEDROOM
Part One
"Sandy, it's so GOOD to see you again after all these years."
There was a terrible gloating satisfaction in the tone of Monique's voice, and Sandra felt dreadfully certain that something very, very bad was about to happen. But what? Just what the hell was going ON—?!
She remembered bumping into Monique in the hotel lobby. . . remembered chatting with her during the reunion dinner. . . remembered meeting her later that evening for a drink in the bar. . .but what had happened then?
There was a blank place in Sandra’s mind. All she knew was that she'd opened her eyes a minute ago and found herself, here. . .with Monique. And she wouldn't be leaving any time soon.
That was all too obvious.
She was stark naked, for one thing, and her clothes were nowhere in sight. Worse still, she was laying face-up on a bed, arms above her head, wrists tied together, legs spread, both wrists and ankles secured to the brass rails at the head and foot of the bed. There was a pillow under her head, but that was the only concession to comfort. The ropes were pulled tight, tensing her body slightly and preventing all but the slightest movements. Sandra's flesh crawled as she realized how helpless and exposed she was.
As for Monique, she was standing by the side of the bed, dressed in nothing but scrimpy black panties. She'd changed quite a bit since high school and now, at the age of thirty-seven, was a very striking woman indeed. You couldn't call Monique beautiful—her face was too severe, with strong dark brows and a hawkish profile—but she was certainly handsome. Twenty years ago she'd been a tall, awkward girl, all knees and elbows; now she was lithe and slender, with a bodily poise that spoke of good muscle tone. Her dark brown hair was cropped short. Her chocolate-colored eyes held a glint of amusement. Sandra noticed that Monique's dark red-painted fingernails were long and sharply pointed. For some reason she couldn't quite fathom, that detail was disturbing.
"I suppose you're wondering why I brought you here, Sandy." Monique's lips twisted up in an evil grin. We'll discuss that later, perhaps, but first let me ask YOU a question."
"What?" Sandra's voice quavered. "Monique, what IS all this?
"All in good time, darling." Monique patted Sandra's thigh. "What I wanted to ask was: How well do you remember our high school days?"
"Pretty well, I guess," Sandra answered in a puzzled voice. "As well as anyone, I guess. But what—MMMMPH!"
"Hush, now." Monique had placed a hand over her mouth. She gazed into Sandra's frightened eyes. "Be quiet or I'll have to give you a PUNISHMENT, darling. We're quite alone here and no one will hear you if you scream. Understand?"
Sandra nodded. Monique took her hand away. "So you remember those days, do you? Perhaps not as well as you think—or you wouldn't be wondering why I've brought you here."
Sandra bit her lip and said nothing.
Monique moved to the foot of the bed. "Now my next question, Sandy, has rather a direct bearing on your current situation. It is just this: Are you TICKLISH, darling?"
Before Sandra could answer, something hard and sharp brushed up the sole of her right foot, from heel to toes. An indescribable sensation shot up her shapely leg. "AAAAHAAA!!!" she squealed, wiggling in her bonds.
"I believe you've answered my question, Sandy." Monique chuckled. "Now the only remaining question is: Just how ticklish ARE you? Shall we find out?”
She began raking her fingernail up and down the sole of her captive’s foot, not rapidly but steadily. Sandra wiggled harder.
"NO—STOP—HEE-EEE-HEE-HEE!!!" she squealed. "OH NOT MY FEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEET!!! AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA!! IT TICK-HICK-EEEE-HICK-HICKLES!!!”
"Really?" Monique stroked faster. "Does it tickle just a LITTLE, darling? Or does it tickle a LOT?”
"AAH-HAA!!! AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA!!! AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!" Sandra bellowed. She tried in vain to jerk her foot away from Monique's dancing fingernail. "OH-HO-HO-OH-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!"
"Oooooo, it DOES tickle a lot, doesn't it?" Monique cupped Sandra's heel in one hand and stroked the top of the foot with all four fingers of the other hand. "It just tickles you to BITS, darling, isn't that so?"
"EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Sandra howled. Her frantic struggles shook the bed. "BWAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!"
"My, my—your little toes are squirming all OVER the place, Sandy." Monique gave the tortured foot a final tickle and let if fall. "Why don't you rest for a moment while I fix that?"
Sandra would have begged for mercy at that point, if she hadn't been too busy gasping for breath. Her foot and leg still tingled with ticklish sensations. She could feel cold sweat on her face, breasts, and belly. The thought of more tickling sent a greasy thrill of fear through her guts.
"This should do the trick," Monique said. She looped string around Sandra's right big toe and tied the free end to the brass bed rail. The effect was to tense and immobilize the foot. "Now just let me do your left foot, darling, and we'll be all set."
"Omygod please NO!” Sandra moaned. "No more, Monique! I'm BEGGING you!"
"But Sandy, that was just a TASTE of things to come!" Monique smiled coldly. "We have HOURS of fun and games ahead of us."
"I'll SCREAM!" Sandra insisted. "I'll scream until someone COMES!"
"Scream away, darling." Monique chuckled. "There's no one to hear you. I made sure to rent a nice, secluded house. No neighbors, an old-fashioned brass bed in the upstairs back bedroom—the moment I saw this place I knew it was perfect."
"But WHY?!” Sandra sobbed. "Why are you DOING this?"
"Because I REMEMBER, Sandra." Monique’s voice had sunk to a whisper. "I remember when you and I were seventeen."
"I don't UNDERSTAND!”
"You will, darling." Monique took Sandra's left baby toe between thumb and forefinger, and wiggled it. "You know, it's interesting," she added in a lighter tone. It's been twenty years and you've hardly changed at all. Still the cutie-pie blonde with the hot cheerleader bod, aren't you, Sandy?"
"I. . .I do aerobics," Sandra stammered. "And I play tennis."
"Yes, you would." Monique wiggled the toe again. "But I've changed quite a bit since graduation, don't you think?"
"Yes." Sandra agreed immediately. Keep the bitch talking, she thought desperately. Anything—ANYTHING—to postpone the tickling!
But Monique must have been a mind reader.
"We'll continue our conversation during your next break, darling," she said. "But now, I'm afraid, it's time to proceed with your lesson."
"No!" Sandra wailed. "Not again! Don't tickle me AGAIN!”
Monique didn't bother to respond to Sandra's plea. She simply smiled. Then she went to work with her sharp nails on BOTH feet!
"EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIIIEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE!!!" Sandra shrieked. "AAAAAAH-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!"
"Are we having FUN yet?" Monique inquired.
"EEEEYAAAA-HAAA-HAAA-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-HAAA-YAAA-HAAA-HAAA!!!" Sandra howled. "HIIIIEEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-EEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEEE-HEEE!!!"
It was worse than before—MUCH worse, Sandra realized as she thrashed in her bonds, screaming with hysterical laughter. The horrid, unbearable sensations produced by Monique's dancing fingers were shooting up her legs, plucking at every nerve in her body, and there was no way in the world to make it STOP—! Gooseflesh roughened her skin. Tears streamed from her eyes. Her breasts tingled and her nipples extended themselves. “HAAAA-UUUUGH!!! 'HAAAA-UUUUGH!!! AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAAAA-UUUUGH!!!” she screamed.
"Let's try right here," Monique suggested, drawing her nails along the side of the feet.
"YAAAAHAAAA-HAAHAA-AAH-HAAHAA-AAH-HAAHAA!!!" Sandra screamed, fighting hard for air. "OH-HO-UGH-HO-UGH-HO-HO-HO-UGH-OH-HO-HO-HO-HO!!!"
"And here." Monique's nails raked stroked the balls of the feet.
"HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Sandra howled. "EEEEYAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”
"And let's not forget your oh-so-sensitive *arches*," Monique added.
"AAH-UGH! HAA-UGH! UH-UH-UH-UH-HA-UH-UH-UH-UUUUGH!!!" Sandy grunted. She could no longer suck in enough air to produce a full-throated shriek.
"Goodness, Sandy, your face has turned the most startling shade of PINK," Monique observed with a smirk. "Perhaps I'd better stop for a moment."
Mercifully, she did. After a minute or two of gasping for breath, Sandra wept with relief.
"I must be careful not to wear you out, darling. "Monique had moved to the side of the bed and was looking down with a smile. "The drug I used seems to have increased your sensitivity to tickling even more than I thought it would."
"Wha-?" Sandra wheezed. "Drug?"
"Yes." Monique reached down and tweaked Sandra's nose. "Didn't I mention that I work for a pharmaceutical company? That's right, darling, I'm a research chemist." She laughed. "It was the drug that inspired me to arrange our little tryst.”
Sandra lay there, panting. She lacked the energy to do more.
"A MOST interesting compound," Monique continued in the tone of a university lecturer. “One tiny dose will render any human being totally defenseless against suggestion. So I slipped some into your drink, Sandy. About thirty seconds after you ingested it, I simply ordered you to come with me. And you did. When we got here, I ordered you to undress and lie down on this bed. And you did. I ordered you to lie still while I tied you. And you did. Then it was simply a matter of waiting until the drug wore off."
"Monique. . .please. . ."
But the svelte tormentress ignored Sandra's faint plea and went on with her lecture.
"You came around with no memory of anything from the time you ingested the drug to the time it wore off, yes? That's another interesting effect of this compound—it wipes the mind of everything that has happened during the drugged interlude." Monique chuckled. "And finally, as I mentioned, it increases bodily sensitivity for a period that varies with the age, weight and sex of the subject. In your case, this increased sensitivity should last up to twelve hours."
Sandra's eyes widened with terror. "Omygod!" she sobbed. "Omygod I won't be able to STAND it! You'll KILL me!"
"Don't worry, darling." Monique patted Sandra's cheek. "I'll be careful."
And with that, she climbed onto the bed and knelt between Sandra's wide-open legs. Sandra cringed in her bonds in anticipation of another bout of tickling. But Monique seemed in no hurry. She was looking down at her helpless victim with a dreamy expression.
"You know, Sandy," she whispered, "I hate to admit this, considering that you treated me like SHIT in high school, you bitch, but I DO find you, well, rather attractive."
"What? What do you MEAN?!”
"Oh, didn't I mention that I prefer girls?" Monique giggled. "Well, it's true. And I'm thinking, now that I have you here, hmmmm, yes, that might be fun. . .”
"But I'm not that way! I'm NOT!”
“Oh, I bet you say that to ALL the girls!” Monique smiled and shook her head. “For the moment, however, let's just try THIS!”
And with no more ado, Monique leaned forward and darted her fingers into Sandra's tender, defenseless armpits!
"EEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Sandra shrieked. "AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA!!!" Her arms jerked spasmodically as Monique's fingernails probed and stroked. If anything, this was WORSE than having her feet tickled. And even if her body could hold up under such torture, Sandra realized, her mind might not. The nonstop laughter was driving her to the brink of total fucking HYSTERIA—!
"HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!!" she howled. "YAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-YAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!"
Monique's hands slipped down from Sandra's armpits to her upper sides. Her fingernails dug in and wiggled.
"BWAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!" Sandra screeched. Her body convulsed under this new assault. Her laughter-crimsoned face was twisted into a grimace of anguished hilarity; the hairs on her arms stood up and quivered; her skin broke out in a delicate cold sweat; and her breasts swayed as she writhed in her bonds.
Monique continued to tickle, moving her hands down Sandra's ribcage, until her victim's laughter died away to a gasping wheeze. When she finally stopped, Sandra kept wheezing.
"Heeeeeeee. . .heeeeeeee. . .heeeeeeee. . ." She could still FEEL those torturing fingernails—! "Heeee. . .heeee. . .heeee. . ."
"Now, now, darling." Monique brushed Sandra's sweat-soaked hair from her forehead. "It's okay. You're doing just fine."
"Hee. . .hee. . .hee. . ."
"Poor dear," Monique cooed. "Poor Sandy-candy." She leaned forward to kiss the tip of Sandra's nose. "I've been soooo mean to you, haven't I?"
"No. . .more. . ." Sandra managed to croak.
"Would you like me to be NICE to you, Sandy-candy?"
Scarcely aware of what was happening, Sandra croaked "Yes. . ."
Monique smiled lazily and put a hand on Sandra's breast. She used her palm to caress the erect nipple. "Mmmm," she muttered. "Are you getting EXCITED, darling? Are your insides starting to feel all WARM and LOOSE?”
Both of Monique's hands were on Sandra's breasts now. She arched her back in response. It DID feel nice. VERY nice. . .
"Want me to kiss?" Monique whispered.
"Yes!" Sandra whispered back.
Monique leaned down. Her tongue darted out to tease Sandra's right nipple.
"Oooooooo!" Sandra moaned deliciously. "Aaaaaaaah!"
"Didn't I tell you?" Monique said, raising her head for a moment. "You DO like this, don't you?"
"Oh, God, YES—!”
"Want me to stop?"
"Oh, no, PLEASE—!”
Sandra just couldn't help herself. Despite all that this bitch had put her through, she wanted Monique to keep kissing—and touching—and stroking her belly—and oh, YES, putting her hand down THERE—!
"Want me to DO it Sandy-candy?" Monique was running a finger up and down Sandra's damp slit. "Want me to make you CUM?”
Sandra answered with a grunt and a wiggle of her hips.
"Okay. . .if you insist. . ."
Monique began to stroke.
The muscles in Sandra's legs tensed. Her asshole tightened. Her svelte belly rippled.
"Getting close?" Monique inquired softly.
"Aaaah!" Sandra moaned. "Aaaah YES—!”
"REAL close?” Monique stroked a little faster. "Tell me when you're really, REALLY close to cumming, Sandy-candy."
"Oh SHIT—don't STOP—I want to fucking CUM!” Sandra gasped, thrashing in her bonds. "Oh YES—oh PLEASE—go FAST—I'm going to CUM—!”
"No, you're not," said Monique. She stopped stroking.
"Don't STOP! Sandra wailed, thrusting her hips to maintain contact with Monique's retreating finger. "I want to CUM—!”
"Perhaps later," Monique said. She raised an eyebrow. "But first, Sandy dear, we really should proceed with your punishment. Business before pleasure, yes?"
"Oh GOD! Please NO!" Sandra cried. She was trembling with fear and sexual frustration. "Not again!"
Monique got off the bed. "Let's see if those pretty feet of yours are still ticklish, darling. Sexual arousal is supposed to increase the level of bodily sensitivity, you know. Isn't that interesting?"
Sandra began to weep.
"No crying, now, Sandy. I like to be surrounded by happy, smiling faces." Monique raised her hands and flexed her fingers. "In fact, I INSIST!”
So the joke was on Sandra. But she laughed anyway, at the top of her lungs, with scarcely a pause to breathe, far, far into the night. . .
Part Two
"Welcome back, darling! Are you feeling all fresh and rested? I hope so, because it's playtime again!"
As the cobwebs cleared and she realized where she was, Sandra moaned.
"You finally passed out last night," Monique explained. "So I let you sleep. When you started to wake up, I administered another dose of the drug. Under its influence, you ate breakfast, had a shower and took care of various personal needs. Then you let me reposition you for the second phase of your punishment."
Sandra realized that she was still naked, still on the bed, still tied to the rails—but face-down now, with a couple of pillows under her belly. The effect was to elevate her bare behind—which Monique now patted affectionately.
"If you think last night was. . .interesting," Monique whispered, THIS little treatment should absolutely blow you AWAY!"
"Monique! Please! Let me GO!” Sandra wailed.
"No way," her tormentress answered, climbing onto the bed and kneeling between Sandra's legs. “ Though I MIGHT let you CUM, darling." She giggled. "Then again, I might not."
It was a prospect that made Sandra's blood run cold. She remembered how awful it had been last night—how Monique had teased her to the brink of orgasm time and time again, only to deny Sandra the blessed release she craved and resume the horrid tickling. She couldn't take any more of THAT! She just COULDN’T! It would drive her out of her fucking MIND—!
"Shall we begin?”" And with an evil smile, Monique leaned forward and sank her fingernails into Sandra's tender armpits!
"GAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA!!!" Sandra bellowed. "HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!! AAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”
"Oooo, does that TICKLE?” Monique cooed. "Does it make you WIGGLE and GIGGLE, Sandy-candy?"
"HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Sandra screamed. "EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE- HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE!!!"
"Yes, it DOES!” Monique exclaimed. She moved her hands to tickle Sandra's upper sides. "Now, wiggle that cute little ass for me, Sandy-candy. “Come on, now—wiggle, wiggle, WIGGLE!”
"EEEEYAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-EEEEYAAAA-HAA-HAA!!!" Sandra bellowed. She her bare behind. She wiggled it HARD. "EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE- HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!"
Monique's hands slipped down to Sandra's ribs.
On and on the ticklish torment went. Sandra struggled frantically to jerk her arms and legs free of their bonds. She squirmed. She writhed. She sweated. And she laughed. She laughed like a fucking IDIOT! She laughed and fucking LAUGHED until it seemed that her sole reason for being was to gasp in another breath of air so she could fucking LAUGH some more—!
"Well!" said Monique as she finally and mercifully stopped tickling. "Now that I have your undivided attention, darling, it's time for a small lesson in anatomy."
"Heeeeeeee. . ." Sandra wheezed. "Heeee-heeee-heeee. . ."
"Did you know, darling, that the human anus is one of the most sensitive areas of the body?" She chuckled. "Well, it is! There are oodles and OODLES of nerve endings back there. Here, let me demonstrate.”
There was a brief, ominous pause—then Sandra felt something that was totally indescribable. It was so horrid that for a moment her tortured body simply didn't react at all. Then the sensation intensified—!
"EEEEEEEEEEEE!!!" Sandra screeched at the top of her lungs. Her entire body convulsed. "EEEEEEEEEEEEHIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!"
Monique was TICKLING her back there! She was STROKING it with something! Sandra writhed. Had such a thing been anatomically possible, she'd have turned herself inside fucking OUT—!
"It's just a FEATHER darling," Monique informed her in a mocking voice. "Just a nice, stiff, pointed feather teasing that little brown spot. . ."
Sandra didn't reply. Her attention was one hundred percent concentrated on the exquisite, maddening, UNENDURABLE sensation that was shooting up her asshole and churning her guts. She squealed in torment. . .but it wasn't torment. . .not JUST torment. . .because the dancing feather was doing something else as well. . .something *bad* but oh! so GOOD—!
She realized what she wanted—not for the torture to stop, but for Monique to let the feather slip lower, just a little, because there was a spot where she was DYING to be touched—!
"I think you LIKE it, darling." With her free hand, Monique stroked Sandra's trembling thigh. "I think it makes you all hot and squirmy, Sandy-candy, all damp and excited and longing to CUM!"
Sandra's hips pumped up and down in agreement.
"But WHY should I be nice to you, Sandy-candy, hmmmm?" Monique was stroking more slowly now. "You were SUCH a bitch to me in high school, darling. What was it you and your shitty little friends used to call me?"
"Aaaah. . .I don't. . .aaaah. . .can't. ..remember. . ."
"But I remember." Monique stroked rapidly for just a moment. "Beanpole. THAT was one name. And Ugly Stick. That was another one."
"Heeeeeeee. . .heeeeeeee. . .heeeeeeee. . ."
"Well, perhaps I shouldn't hold such a grudge." Monique laughed and withdrew the feather. "Tell you what, darling, I'm going to let you cum."
Sandra's bare behind moved in a small, desperate circle.
"There's a catch," Monique added.
"Anything, Monique!" Sandra gasped. "ANYTHING!”
"You have to promise to be nice to ME.”
"I DO!" Sandra agreed eagerly. "I WILL! Monique oh *PLEASE just make me CUM—!
"But how do I know you'll keep your promise?" Monique swirled the feather over Sandra's bare behind. "How can I be SURE, Sandy-candy?"
"Aaaah-aaaah-aaaah-I PROMISE—!”
"Maybe we should think about this," Monique suggested. She kept swirling the feather over Sandra's wiggling posterior. "Maybe we shouldn't rush into such an INTIMATE relationship, darling. Maybe we should get to know one another a bit better first.
Sandra began to weep. She knew what was coming.
Monique sighed. "Sorry, Sandy, but I just don't think you're ready for a committed relationship. You're going to have to prove yourself to me first. And I think you know what THAT means, darling, don't you?"
"Monique! I'm begging you! Oh PLEASE don't TICKLE me again! Sandra struggled against her bonds. "You're going to drive me out of my fucking MIND if you keep tickling me!"
"There is that possibility," Monique agreed. "Which, if you look at it from my point of view, darling, wouldn't be all that disappointing an outcome. But I think you're going to surprise yourself, Sandy. Why, in an hour or two, when you think back to what you've just said, you'll just laugh and laugh!"
"HELP!" Sandra screamed hysterically. "HELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME PLEASE!"
"Let's try your FEET again, Sandy-candy." Monique reached back with both hands. "Ready or not, here we go!"
"EEEEEE-HEHEHE-EEEEEE-HEHEHE-EEEEEE-HEHEHE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Sandra howled as Monique's nails raked the soles of her feet. "EEEEEEAAAAAAH-HAHAHA-AAAAAAH-HAHAHA-AAAAH-HAHAHA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”
Monique didn't stop this time until she'd tickled all the way from Sandra's feet to her armpits. Then after a brief pause, she started back down.
She knew it was useless to struggle, but Sandra couldn't help herself. Monique's tickling fingers made her writhe and thrash and tremble—they made her skin crawl with wave after wave of gooseflesh—they made her sweat glands redouble production—they made her contorted face turn bright pink as she screamed with manic, hideous, nonstop fucking LAUGHTER—!
Monique finally stopped after two round trips around her victim's increasingly exhausted body. She gave Sandra a couple of minutes to catch her breath, then reapplied the feather to that same agonizingly sensitive anal orifice. "AAAARRRRUUUUNNNNGGGG!!!" Sandra half-screamed, half-grunted. "HIIIIEEEEGGGGRRRRUUUUMMMMPH!!!"
Between the horrific tickling and her now-urgent need to achieve orgasmic release, Sandra was being driven absolutely CRAZY! She wiggled her ass in a vain attempt to make Monique go LOWER with the feather. At every pause in the torture, she begged and demanded to be allowed to cum. But Monique merely chuckled and continued to caress Sandra's asshole. Every now and then, for variety, she reached back to tickle one of Sandra's helpless feet.
"All right, Sandy-candy," Monique said finally. "Perhaps you've suffered enough for the moment. So, want to cum now?"
"Yes, yes, YES!” Sandra wailed. "DO me! Do me NOW—!”
Monique let the feather slip down to her victim's curl-covered mount—and stroked.
Sandra screamed again—but it was a gentle sound this time, soft and deep in her throat. Each caress of the feather sent a delicious, pulsing thrill through her body. The only trouble was that Monique wasn't stroking quite FAST enough—or HARD enough—!
Then Monique withdrew the feather and replaced it with her hand. THAT was more like it, Sandra told herself, pumping her hips to increase the friction. That felt absolutely WONDERFUL—!
"Ooooo, you're all wet and EXCITED, Sandy-candy!" Monique giggled. "I guess you LIKE it when I touch you this way."
"Oh, YES!" Sandra moaned.
"And this way?" Monique stroked with the tips of her fingers.
“UUH!!!” Sandra grunted. “UUH!!! UUH!!! UUUUUUUUH!!!”
"Mmmm, darling, I think you're getting close—REAL close."
Sandra ground her hips against Monique's steady hand.
She could feel it—oh, she could fucking FEEL it—it was going to HAPPEN—she was going to CUM—and then Monique did something with her hand and Sandra's body tensed in anticipation—and it DID happen—and Sandra forgot about everything except the racing tidal wave of absolute ECSTASY that swept over her—!
Sandra experienced six orgasms before Monique withdrew her clever hand. And then she grunted in joyous surprise as Monique added a final touch by applying the feather to Sandra's brown spot once more. It made every nerve in her body vibrate with delight.
That's what did it for her. Later, when she had the time to think things over, Sandra realized that Monique's ticklish chaser to orgasm had been the deciding factor. Never, not EVER had she felt anything remotely like THAT—!
"Want me to do that again," Monique whispered, caressing her prisoner’s squirming behind. "Want to go AGAIN, Sandy-candy?"
"Yes. . ."
"But you'll have to be TICKLED again first, darling. Those are the rules." Monique giggled. "Still want to go again?"
"Yes. . ." Sandra breathed. "Please. . ."
"Okay, but I think you're going to need a break before we proceed, Sandy." Monique got off the bed. "I don't want to wear you out. We have the whole weekend ahead of us."
"All. . .right. . ."
"I'm still feeling mean," Monique added in a cautionary tone. "I'm still in the mood to PUNISH you, Sandy-candy. You're going to be tickled absolutely PINK before I let you cum again."
"I don't. . .care. . ." Sandra moaned.
"Okay, if you're sure. "Monique patted Sandra's ass. "Just relax, darling. Let me get another dose of the drug. Once it's taken effect, I'll untie you."
Sandra raised her head.
"I don’t think we’ll need the drug," she whispered.
