A/N Ugh. What?
Oh right. Yeah, I'm back. It's the middle of the night and I am barely functioning, but since I have other projects to do in the next few days of a non-tickling nature, I wanted to get this out to you as soon as possible.
Many of you are probably wondering why this is my first installment since December 2005. Unfortunately I have no real excusable answer to give. Between distractions and my diminishing lack of interest, I found myself without the drive to complete more than MAYBE a page at a time, and that much if I was feeling really creative and driven, or to even look at it more than once a month or whatever. Poor poor Felicia took a backseat to other facets of my life, including my personal life, which hasn't been going the way I want, although I really can't complain. Still, I will classify certain events and discoveries in my life to be under the category of "more sucking", a downgrade of where I was 10 months ago which has contributed to my lack of writing.
But anyhoo, enough of that crap. Felicia's back, and I promise to try to get more installments out more quickly (note the word "try". I can't actually guarantee anything). And that will mean more torment for our poor little Felicia as she tries to endure the horrors thrust upon her by tickle-torturing madmen, not to fight them or beat them or anything like that, but simply to survive. And in this chapter, she will experience new tortures and humiliations that she never imagined could ever happen to her. Which brings me to the surprise that I mentioned in the comments after my last story. I mentioned that there would be a surprise, and from the arts section no less? Well, fans of Dave2112's art, probably the best art on this entire forum, will be pleasantly surprised to find that tonight's feature torture device is none other than the dreaded, horrible, infamous SUSPENSION STOCKS!!!!!! *Cue the cheering of a bloodthirsty pro wrestling crowd*
But before that, you might want to reread Part 9. I know you all forgot what happened. Hell it's been so long that *I* forgot what happened. I'll give you a minor spoiler though for that part and Part 10; a girl named Felicia gets tickled. Here's the previous part written oh so long ago: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=71328&highlight=felicia
And now, the long awaited first two digit installment of the series, I bring to you "Felicia the Cheerleader" Part 10:
Part 10 (F/F)
The first thing Felicia noticed when she woke up was that she was not on the ground. She was hovering roughly a yard above it. The second thing she noticed, when she attempted to move in order to get herself onto the aforementioned ground, was that she could not move. The third thing she noticed, as she proceeded to say something along the lines of “What the--?”, was that she could not speak.
Hearing the sound of Felicia’s voice through the gag, Natalie turned away from her table of tools. “Ah, darling, I see we have finally returned to the world of the living,” she greeted the high school cheerleader, who had been unconscious for over 4 hours, in a nearly incomprehensible Russian accent. Her eyes absorbed every inch of Felicia’s body, and she felt herself becoming turned on by the sight of the young girl in bondage. “How do you like the Suspension Stocks, my dear?”
Natalie had built the Suspension Stocks based off a piece of art from someone on a forum devoted to tickle torture. That was what Felicia was currently in. Hanging roughly a yard off a concrete floor, she was in a near hogtie position. A single metal bar came down from the ceiling, and from it 4 smaller bars connected to restraints that held her ankles and thighs in one position, which just so happened to be spread out and bent. Another bar also extended from the main bar, which held Felicia’s arms in another set of restraints. With her arms bent behind her head, her legs spread open, and her knees bent, every inch of her body was vulnerable. Another restraint of the same material was placed around her mouth, keeping her from speaking. (thank God for the magic of picture attachments. Just look at the attached photo to know what the hell I described in the last paragraph).
The room they were in (Natalie’s personal dungeon) was nothing like the others on the second subbasement of the BDSM club she was a prisoner of. It looked like the inside of a spaceship, maybe. There were metal walls that were divided into sections every 5 or 6 feet, like in a spaceship. The metal bar that held the Suspension Stocks was attached to another, larger bar (all these bars makes me wanna get drunk) that ran to a control panel with colorful blinking lights, located directly behind Felicia. To the right and left of that panel were large fans. Of course, Felicia could see none of that, or even what the Suspension Stocks actually looked like. As she looked around the room frantically, Natalie made a mental note to modify the device by attaching the gag to the arm restraints, immobilizing the victim’s head. Oh well, another day.
“You are quite the beautiful young lady, da?” she said. “So very beautiful. I bet you have many men in your public school that compete for your attention all the time, da, darling?”
Natalie stroked Felicia’s cheek with her hand. Her skin was soft and smooth. “I remember my high school days. Oh, I must have graduated about the time you were born,” Natalie continued her tale. “I remember my school in Russia, it was the Soviet Union at the time, and all the beautiful women and the handsome men in it, always, how you say, hooking up, yes?” She chuckled to herself. “I remember the men always fought for my attention. I was a stunning young woman back in my teenage years.” If nothing else, Felicia felt Natalie had this in her favor. The tall redhead was very stunning even now at about 35 years of age, despite being a couple inches TOO tall. “I remember, though, that when I saw a man I didn’t like, I didn’t go out of my way to break his heart!”
Deep, very deep inside, Felicia let out an exasperated sigh. Still with the whole business about breaking Bobby’s heart? Next she’ll go on about how she treated Ester—
“I remember that there were some people, not to go around—what’s the word? Oh yes—bragging, that weren’t as smart or as beautiful as I, but I remember treating them with respect. High school was bad enough, and it didn’t need the popular and pretty students like you and I stepping over everyone else. Making fun of the other girls like you did to that poor daughter of Robert and Claudia’s.”
--like shit. Godammit! Felicia wondered how they could possibly have come to any of these conclusions. If only they would let her defend herself instead of torturing her endlessly, then maybe she could make them understand that she never did anything wrong to anybody in her entire life.
“But something always confused me. You see, I hated those girls more than anything. Yet, I found myself strangely attracted to them. Da, that is right, I am bisexual,” she confirmed at the sight of a confused expression on Felicia’s face. “It was only in this way that I came to terms with my bisexuality, but the Soviet Union was morally strict. I believe the term you would use is ‘puritanical’, da? They made fun of, these girls and the handsome boys I was attracted to too, anyone who didn’t only like the opposite sex. That made me hate them more, both the guys and the girls, and the more I hated them, the more I found myself attracted to them.”
“After graduation, I joined the Soviet KGB, where I learned all sorts of…. ‘interrogation’ techniques. It allowed me to combine my hatred of those who I felt hatred towards and my attraction to the same people, if only in my mind. Though, my fondest memories was testing my techniques against very attractive ‘volunteers’ secretly chosen by the Soviet Government to fulfill their civic duty. After the fall of the Soviet Union, I came here to America where I could become the next best thing. A dominatrix. Funny, nyet? It wasn’t long before I found my way here to this club.”
Felicia felt every part of her body turn to lead as Natalie talked about her past. The KGB? She was having a little trouble understanding her through that accent, but she was positive she heard that correctly. This woman in front of her was trained by the KGB, and now she was going to torture her mercilessly, in the Suspension Stocks no less!?
Natalie circled around Felicia, eyeing every inch of the 18 year old’s nude form. Felicia felt herself tense up when the older woman exited her peripheral vision. “To be quite honest with you, my love, I don’t care for those children you’re being punished for picking on,” noted Natalie. “Bobby is too much of an immature spoiled brat for my taste. And Ester? God, I hate those kids, those what do you call them?” She muttered something to herself in Russian as she tried to remember. “Ah, da, yes, those Emo kids. Thinking life has been cruel to them when they have everything in the world.” She stopped in front of Felicia. “I’m not here to deal out “justice” or “revenge” on their behalf. This is for me. I’m here to give you exactly what you and your kind deserve. And I’m going to fulfill my sexual desires at the same time.”
Felicia’s eyes went wide with disgust. Fulfill her sexual desires? Felicia had never been with anybody before, especially not a woman. She may have been 18, but she was not at all ready to have her first sexual experience yet. She would definitely feel weird and confused for months if it were with a woman. She struggled in her bonds, but it was no use. There was no escape for her.
The young girl felt a flush of fear as the Russian dominatrix wiggled her long fingernails in the air in front of her. “So, my little princess, you get everything you want, da? Do you want to be tickled on your SIDES?” Felicia screamed through her gag as Natalie began scribbling her nails up and down Felicia’s incredibly ticklish sides.
“Are you getting everything you want from this, darling? If you want me to stop, then please say so,” said Natalie, not relenting from her attack.
The tickling was pure agony for Felicia. Natalie lightly skittered her long nails up and down Felicia’s sides, and the light touch was maddening. The cheerleader struggled wildly in her bonds, but thanks to the ingenious design of the Suspension Stocks, not only could she not escape the torture but she caused the entire thing to very slowly start rotating back and forth. If there’s one thing worse than hanging in midair in some uncomfortable contraption, it’s hanging in midair in some uncomfortable contraption where it’s moving back and forth via its own momentum.
Felicia’s muffled laughter quickly turned to muffled screams. She shook her head back and forth wildly, pleading with her captor with her eyes not to torture her anymore.
Natalie grabbed Felicia’s slender waste in a choking motion (let’s break this one down. Imagine someone opening their hand to choke someone else (“Does Wayne Brady have to choke a bitch?”) and now instead of the hands closing around the victim’s neck, they close around the victim’s waste so that the thumbs are near the navel. So simple, I didn’t have to write it down for future use) and began squeezing lightly. With her back forced into an arch position, her stomach, as well as her ribs and breasts, were stretched out as if she wanted to be tickled there. Another ingenious consequence of the ingenious design of the ingenious Suspension Stocks. Ingenious.
Beads of sweat dripped down Felicia’s forehead. Her body shook rapidly with laughter, conflicting with its current need for long deep breaths. She hung her lead limply as the wild laughter continued to beat against her gag.
Natalie stopped tickling her, moaning softly, almost purring, as she walked slowly around her teenage captive. Felicia didn’t even look behind her, she just shut her eyes and braced herself. Where would she get hit next? Knees? Feet?
She was startled when Natalie’s hands lightly slapped her ass, but nothing more than that. The dom lightly squeezed the younger girl’s ass cheeks before running a single finger down her spine. Felicia’s body tensed up as she whimpered from the contact, which sent shivers down her spine. Natalie repeated the process again and again, faster and faster, and the shivers quickly grew into tickling. Within seconds, Felicia’s pathetic whimpers transformed into full-on laughter. Why did EVERY part of her body have to be so excruciatingly ticklish? Even her BACK fought against her attempts to keep in control!
Felicia lost her battle in the war of control over her own body, laughing against the gag as Natalie’s fingers focused on her smooth ass. Felicia couldn’t believe how much it tickled. Even her ASS was ticklish! She had no idea!
For well over five minutes, Natalie mercilessly tickled Felicia’s ass. The cheerleader giggled hysterically the entire time, praying for the torture to stop. It was too much for her to bear. Fortunately the tickle torture stopped, and Felicia hung her head limply, panting heavily as the feeling of fingernails skittering all over her butt lingered on for a few extra seconds. While the high school girl struggled to regain her breath, her torturer pulled out of the pocket of her tight leather outfit a single small object, 3 inches in length, stiff yet soft, crimson red. She walked around to face Felicia, whose beautiful blue eyes widened in horror when she saw the object in question.
A feather!
“Well well,” purred the formed KGB agent as Felicia began to sob quietly to herself. “Where would be the best place on your vulnerable little body to use THIS, da?”
She knelt down beside Felicia, using her thumb and middle finger to give Felicia a quick pinch in her belly button and her flesh about an inch above it. The cheerleader gave out a startled yelp and the dominatrix pulled back. Natalie slowly ran the feather up and down between Felicia’s breasts. The light teasing touch was maddening and a wave of muffled giggles poured into the gag. The feather moved up and down, up and down, slowly making it’s way down Felicia’s solar plexus and into her excruciatingly sensitive little belly button. The giggles became more and more desperate, more and more intense, until the belly button was reached, and that’s when the screaming started. Natalie tickled Felicia all over her stomach, making sure to return to the girl’s navel as often as possible. Only a cruel God could have created a world where it was so easy to torture such a sweet and beautiful girl.
Eventually the belly torture stopped, but Natalie wasn’t done yet. She circled the girl, who could do nothing but hang there and gasp for air through her nose as her chest heaved, deciding where to use the feather next. Finally she decided.
Felicia screamed in horror, her blue eyes wide with shock, fear, and agony, as the feather slowly slid across the sole of her right foot.
As the feather tickled her most ticklish spot, Felicia instinctively tried to wiggle her feet to avoid the tickling tool. Unfortunately she was no longer laying on Duugo’s torture rack (if you can call that unfortunate). Her knees were bent and her feet were far behind her back. Just like the ring finger cannot bend fully if you hold you pinkie so it is extended fully, Felicia could not move her feet from side to side. She could extend her toes and move her foot in the direction of her shin (which made her bare foot MORE vulnerable), or she could go the other way and try to straighten her foot and scrunch her toes (which didn’t do much to make her foot less vulnerable). The feather tickled every spot on Felicia’s right foot for what seemed like ages, but was in actuality only a few minutes, even effortlessly tickling between her toes. Felicia howled into the gag as her body struggled to free itself from the Suspension Stocks.
There was a brief pause, but before she had the time to start catching her breath, she felt the feather slide between the toes of her left foot. A shriek escaped the young girl’s lips. Her eyes widened in fearful anticipation as she felt Natalie holding her second and middle toes apart, then shutting tight, her face contorting with what almost looked like pain, as the feather slid between her toes. She screamed as if Natalie had inserted an electric drill into her vagina. The cruel feather, manipulated by its cruel master, explored and tormented every inch of the not-so-cruel girl’s not-so-cruel-but-cruelly-sensitive left foot. Felicia screamed more than she laughed, screaming harder as Natalie dropped the feather on the ground and tickled both her feet at the same time with her long-and-cruel fingernails (while this was going on, the incredibly-cruel-but-really-not-so-much-just-more-like-screwed-up-in-the-head author decided to check his thesaurus for a synonym for the word “cruel”). Unlike the feather, which was slow and light, the woman’s fingernails were fast moving and unpredictable. Felicia’s head shook violently from side-to-side, her matted hair landing in front of her face, covering her eyes. Her body shook as her voice grew hoarse from screaming. Soon she screamed no more, but that didn’t stop her from trying. Her lungs were, as always, ready to burst. She felt herself become dizzy. But the double-handed foot tickling went on for a total of 23 minutes, not to count the couple of minutes that feather spent on her left foot.
Natalie stopped only when her victim was unconscious.
Thirty seconds later, a hard slap to the face woke Felicia up. “You fucking whore! Wake up! I’ll do more than just tickle you if you fall asleep on me again! I’m sure I can find a chainsaw somewhere around here!” she screamed in Russian, with Felicia not understanding a word. Rest assured, there were no chainsaws around to cut Felicia to ribbons, nor would Natalie have even seriously considered such an idea. The cheerleader blinked her eyes open, aware that she was feeling pain without actually feeling pain. She felt the pain when Natalie slapped her hard against the left side of her face a second time, and this time Felicia was wide awake, her cheek throbbing with pain. Natalie examined the blonde beauty’s face closely, taking note of her disheveled matted hair in front of her face, her sweat and tear covered cheeks which were almost beet red. “You are hideous when you are tickled, you are aware of that?” commented Natalie in English with no remorse or feeling in her voice. Felicia closed her eyes in shame, looking away. While she was not anorexic, emo, or particularly whiny in that “I’m so miserable” sort of way, she had more self-esteem issues than a girl with her physical appearance normally would. This was despite the fact that every girl in school wanted to be friends with her and every guy in school liked her (either they just wanted to do it with her or they really liked her and wanted to get to know her). In general she could be described as confident, but unlike many beautiful high school girls who went around thinking they were queen of the world no matter what people thought of them, Felicia’s more passive and “pushover” nature sometimes made her wonder if she was good enough to get the guy or if people would like her and so on. Normal stuff for most people, especially in high school. She didn’t need, especially at a time like this, to hear a comment like that.
Natalie reached into her pocket, pulling out another object. The sound of an electrical device coming to life caused Felicia to slowly lift her head, fear spreading throughout the young girl’s body. The sound came from an electric toothbrush. Felicia screamed into her gag, shaking her head wildly in fear. Natalie gently brushed Felicia’s hair out of her eyes. “I wonder if your sensitive body can handle my little toy?” wondered Natalie aloud as she slowly raised the toothbrush towards her right elbow. Felicia had been tickled by electric toothbrushes before, and her breaths became shorter and more forced as she thought of the feeling that the rapidly spinning bristles would make on her smooth creamy skin. The tickling would be much more intense from the electric toothbrush than bare hands or the feather, and what’s worse was that since the bristles rotated on their own, Natalie did not even have to move it for Felicia to feel the full force of the tickling. Zero effort on the part of the torturer, but every effort on the part of the victim to do what she could not. Withstand the intense tickle torture she was about to receive.
The toothbrush touched her tricep, right below her elbow and slowly moved downwards, closer and closer to her right underarm. She began to giggle uncontrollably, her pleading eyes meeting Natalie’s as she shook and squirmed. If she couldn’t stand being tickled on her arm, there was no way she could withstand it in her sensitive armpits. Her giggles grew more and more intense until, as the spinning bristles touched her ticklish hollow, her entire body seemed to explode. She writhed violently in the Suspension Stocks, completely unable to escape her ticklish fate.
Less than a minute elapsed before Natalie stopped, leaving poor Felicia gasping for air through her nose. She began to cry as Natalie eyes her tiny B-cup breasts. “Ooh, darling, I wonder if your nipples are ticklish to, yes? Your breasts, what do men call them in your language, your “tits” are so tiny. It’s like you left them home when you went to school, yes? Oh, darling, do not cry. It will all be over before you know it.” Felicia pleaded with Natalie as the dominatrix went for her nipples, but the pleas went ignored (not counting the fact that one couldn’t actually understand Felicia through the gag. Was she really pleading? Or was she trying to have an intelligent political conversation? I will answer that question for a $10 fee. The answer will shock you and turn your world upside-down). The electric toothbrush made contact with the girl’s sensitive nipples and all hell broke loose. Literally, the Devil came out of the floor and dragged Natalie down into Hell with him. Just kidding. But the toothbrush sent shockwaves into Felicia’s nipples so bad she felt them in her hips. Her nipples were very sensitive (I think by now it’s a gimme that EVERY part of her body is very sensitive) and could not stand against the automatic tickle device. The device jumped from one nipple to the other, tickling her bare chest with unrelenting fury.
Felicia endured this for about 4 minutes. Her nipples were tingling like never before when it was over. Her chest heaved in quick motions as she cried softly to herself, wanting more than anything else to be set free, even if she was only sent back to her cell. She had been tickled nonstop since early this morning, though she wasn’t sure what time it was since she had passed out between being tickled by Duugo (a heavenly experience, it was not) and being tickled by Natalie.
Both Natalie walking around behind Felicia and the sound of the electric toothbrush humming to life again only barely registered in the exhausted mind of the naked cheerleader. She did not miss, however and unfortunately, the dual purpose teeth cleaning and cheerleader tickling device find its towards her exposed and vulnerable genitals. She let forth an ear-splitting scream as Natalie ran the electric toothbrush over her crotch, making sure Felicia’s pussy lips, labia, and clit received the brunt of the torture. She tried with all her might to close her legs, but the Suspension Stocks kept the girl hanging the air and her legs wide open, with her pussy easily accessible to anyone who might want to do malicious things to it, as the former KGB agent was doing right now. The tickling that she felt was beyond words. Her clitoris was, by nature, more sensitive than her nipples. Every rotation of the brush, every movement of each bristle, sent shockwaves through her nerve-endings that registered as nothing but pure agony, all of it centered in the innocent girl’s most sensitive and vulnerable place.
Laughter exploded out of her, but after 8 and a half minutes, it was silent laughter that was throwing itself against the gag that muffled her screams of agony and cries for mercy. Her toes curled up as tears streamed down her sweaty face. Just as they always do. Felicia failed to sense anything that was going on in the room. It was as if her sense of hearing and sight were suddenly done away with, and her sense of touch was only active between her legs. Felicia would have done anything to stop it. She would have sold her family, as much as she loved them, to the dungeon from the movie “Hostel” if it would have stopped her suffering, it was really that bad. Her chest felt like it was being crushed from laughing so hard, and sweat covered her entire body as she laughed like never before. Felicia thrashed about with renewed vigor as the toothbrush “cleaned” (haha, get it? It’s a toothbrush and it cleans your teeth? Oh you all suck) back and forth between her vagina and her asshole, making the toothbrush completely unsuitable for its original manufactured purpose.
This went on for just over 4 more minutes before, much to Felicia’s relief, Natalie stopped and turned off the toothbrush. Felicia was crying softly, her mind still feeling the device tickling her pussy. Anyone who thinks tickling is simply a fun little game need only to hear this girl’s tale of woe in order to think differently. Natalie kissed Felicia’s forehead, moving her hair behind her head as she gently stroked Felicia’s cheek. “Calm down, darling. You are calm now, yes? I have a nice surprise for you. We are both women, we know what causes us pleasure. I think you are going to enjoy this. Think of it as a gift from a woman to a woman.”
Felicia cocked her head in confusion. What did that mean? She had been kidnapped by Robert, Claudia and the rest of the family for the past 2 months (though she wasn’t aware of the exact amount of time, it was all simply an eternity of endless days in captivity to her) and not once did they ever think of giving her anything that would be classified as pleasurable. She was actually about a half second away from realizing what Natalie meant by “a gift from a WOMAN to a WOMAN” when the 6’1” dominatrix took something off of the small table with wheels that had been in the corner next to the fan (remember the table of tools from the second paragraph?) and strode over to Felicia. The 110 pound cheerleader’s eyes went wide with horror.
A vibrator!
If one were to spend five minutes with Felicia, one would imagine that she had never masturbated before in her life. That was not true (how does the song go? “I’m not THAT innocent”). She only did it occasionally, but she did do it, and she enjoyed it immensely. She knew exactly how and where to touch herself in order to give herself an orgasm. She was a sexually modest girl and all, but she wasn’t a nun or anything. She didn’t view masturbation as gross or immoral or anything.
The thing was it was always her touching HERSELF. She would NEVER imagine letting someone else masturbating for her. Especially another girl. She wasn’t homophobic or anything, but she just never felt comfortable with the idea of a woman performing sexual acts on her (though in her recent months of captivity, she had come to prefer a woman tickling her privates over a man simply because she didn’t trust the men who had been torturing her to restrain themselves from sexually assaulting her). And she had never used a sex toy before! She didn’t want to anyway. She never felt comfortable with the idea of some electronic device buzzing around her vagina, or some giant rubber penis-shaped dildo creating havoc inside of her. There was only one way she felt comfortable masturbating: CONSENTUALLY (usually to the thought of a hot college guy or a hot celebrity), by herself, using her hand, and in private. This was completely the opposite: completely against her will, done by somebody else, with a vibrator, and that other person would hear her moans and see her cum.
Oh God, this woman would be watching her have an ORGASM!!!! Felicia just couldn’t shake off how sick this whole thing was. How wrong it was. She prayed that she wouldn’t actually feel sexual pleasure, as Natalie had claimed she would. She could not let this dominatrix watch her orgasm.
Natalie disappeared behind her, and she heard the mechanical humming noise that signaled the vibrator coming to life. She steeled herself, knowing that no matter what, she could not let herself feel an ounce of pleasure from this, or else Natalie would have her sick victory. Even if involved torturing herself, even if holding it in hurt, she must not allow herself to orgasm.
She tried to focus on something in the room as the mechanical whirring sound came closer and closer (although it really didn’t seem like the sound was getting any louder or softer, so it was more like she would be hearing it and then she would be feeling it at some random moment); she focused her eyes on the doorway and imagined walking out of it, fully clothed and heading towards freedom without resistance. She wanted that more than—
“MMMMFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!” Her scream was long and low as the vibrator made contact to her vulnerable pussy. The feeling was so hard to explain, but she took some small (very small) relief in the fact that she did not enjoy it one bit. It definitely didn’t tickle, but it didn’t give her any sexual pleasure either. But it still gave her a throbbing tingle, and it made her squirm desperately in the Suspension Stocks. More than anything else, it felt gross. So gross. Not the vibrator itself, of course. That was plastic. Or metal. I honestly have no idea what vibrators are made of. No, it was the feeling it was giving her, it grossed her out more than anything else.
Natalie skillfully maneuvered the sex toy around Felicia’s helpless groin, teasing her inner thighs before gliding it across her pussy lips. Felicia shut her eyes tight, holding her head in one direction and then the other as she tried to block out the horrible throbbing sensation between her legs. She opened her eyes and, with a look of desperate pain in her eyes, centered her attention to the door, trying to imagine herself walking out the door, every detail of what it would feel like right down to the feeling of the ground beneath her shoes and the feeling of the shoes on her feet. The images were nothing but a blur to her (apparently Felicia walking out of the room on her own would be something akin to a broken record on acid. Yes, you read that correctly. A broken record on acid. That’s why we listen to CD’s now), and the powerful feeling of the vibrator was overpowering. She clenched and unclenched her fists inside her restraints (a very difficult endeavor) and tried desperately to focus her attention on that, but that was to no avail either. Nor was her vain attempt to scrunch and unscrunch her toes (or rather, to focus her attention on it). She had it for about a second, but her mind automatically shifted its focus back to the devilish device between her legs. Once that happened, her feet stopped consciously moving. Wildly shaking her feet also failed.
Felicia grunted and groaned, her chest heaving as she tried to deal with her current predicament. Not only could she not close her legs or move her arms down to defend herself, she couldn’t even wiggle that area out of the way. Not even a little bit. The intense, rhythmic throbbing that she felt between her legs seemed to resonate throughout her whole body, and she was having trouble keeping herself under control.
She was about to moan—and then stifled herself abruptly. Then it hit her. Oh God, what she was feeling down there was the same as when she masturbated herself, only even more intense to due its uncontrollable nature. It was sexual pleasure, she was actually enjoying herself! No, she couldn’t let that happen. It was wrong! If she felt pleasure from such a perverted act, then it would make her no different from them! Even if that meant torturing herself, she could not let herself take pleasure from that vibrator.
Another moan escaped her lips, impacting against the gag. She tightened her lips and hoped that the gag would muffle any further sound. As Natalie sadistically used her free hand to part open the high school captive’s pussy lips, she pressed the pleasure/torture tool against her sensitive clit and left it there. Felicia moaned again, this time loudly, despite her best efforts not to.
Another moan filled the air, followed by another. The throbbing sensation was growing more and more intense, but it wasn’t gross anymore. It was pure bliss, unmitigated sexual pleasure that she could have never obtained herself. She shook her head, closing her eyes as she quite loudly took the deepest of breaths. No, she couldn’t possibly let herself take pleasure in all this. It was horrible. This woman’s intent for her was malevolent and cruel. She, and the rest of the staff, had tortured and were planning on continuing torturing Felicia for the rest of her natural life. Natalie was just trying to turn her into a sexual pervert like the rest of them. It wasn’t that it was homosexual—Felicia was fine with homosexuality although she wasn’t into it herself—it was that it was forced sex, a form of torture, and it was dirty. This was different that the tickling, it was intended to do more than torture her. It was intended to corrupt her, and she had to fight it. She could not fight the tickling, so she HAD to fight this.
Oh but it was no use. She could feel the pressure, the sexual frustration, inside of her building, ready to explode like a nuclear bomb. She held her breath, stifling another moan. Unfortunately, and ironically, the sound of her making her moan inaudible was in fact quite audible. That sucks.
“Do not try to fight it, child. I do not try to torture you with this. You have suffered enough so far during your captivity. This is simply for your pleasure,” assured the ex-KGB dominatrix. She muttered something in Russian, and then Felicia’s eyes went wide open in shock as she let out an ear-piercing scream. The red haired demoness, who was already on her knees during the whole vibrator scene (look at the picture that I hopefully remembered to attach. It should be obvious even though I forgot to mention it that she had to be on her knees to reach Felicia’s crotch), picked up the feather and was poking it around Felicia’s crotch along with the vibrator. Quick staccato moan/screams built up as the feather entered her and made direct contact with the clit while the vibrator did its thing, also vibrating against her clit. This double whammy was proving more than Felicia could handle.
Felicia let out another moan, long and low. How could something feel so good and so bad at the same time? No, she didn’t want it to feel bad, but she couldn’t let it feel good. It wasn’t good, and she couldn’t let it feel as such. The fact that she was feeling some pleasure from this (at the purely physical level) made her feel dirty, disgusting, and self-conscious. It was as if a million eyes were watching her in her bathroom masturbating at the thought of her favorite celebrity or high school crush.
She could feel the sexual energy forming inside of her. She tensed her body, fighting with every ounce of strength not to orgasm, not to derive any physical pleasure from this sexual violation against her. She felt her lungs take in air, her mind unconsciously not releasing the air. Her head was throbbing from the sexual tension and her efforts to suppress any degree of pleasure she could possibly derive from being vibrated by Natalie.
But the buildup of sexual energy inside of her was too great to contain, and she was just too exhausted to fight back. She felt her body relax and then felt the warm liquid escape her vagina, letting out a low, almost primal moan that filled the air of the torture chamber. Her head swam and felt dizzy, and every nerve in her body tingled and felt ultra sensitive, most notably her pussy. Her clit was still throbbing. Her body glistened with sweat as she hung there with head lowered.
“Da, so you like, da?” asked Natalie. “You enjoy being in bondage, being brought to orgasm by someone else’s touch. A woman’s touch. You are quite the little slut, yes?”
Felicia hung her head in shame. She felt dirty, like one of those porn stars who have sex with thirty guys onscreen, always with a dick in every hole and in both hands, all of which cum on her face to be licked up, swallowed, and enjoyed. She felt like one of them. Tears trickled slowly down her cheeks, this time tears of a girl with a shattered slef-esteem.
“Even a little slut deserves a good laugh,” continued the dominatrix, skittering her fingernails ruthlessly across the soles of Felicia’s feet.
Tickling Felicia’s feet now was one of the cruelest things Natalie could possibly have done. It was like the tickling version of being stabbed. Apparently, your body is much more sensitive and ticklish after an orgasm, as every nerve ending in your body seems to be tingling. Felicia had never even wondered if such a thing were true (she had never even heard of that allegation), but now she was experiencing its validity firsthand.
Her eyes bulged as she struggled like a madwoman, trying to break out of the Suspension Stocks with energy she didn’t even have (of course. Her body was able to take surrounding matter and convert it into energy. All she had to do was keep struggling and the Suspension Stocks would disappear and turn into energy which she could then use to struggle around on the concrete floor. That’s not fantasy physics). Her head shook wildly, her torso moved what little it could move and her feet did the same. Screams and laughter wildly escaped her lips only to be silenced by the gag, her mind not coherent enough to form those sounds into any known language with which she could use to beg in vain. Her lungs ached, feeling as if a 600 pound fat person was sitting on her slender torso. Her throat and cheeks were sore and her head wasn’t all there.
The tickling was excruciating. The aftermath of the orgasm made her already incredibly ticklish body more ticklish than ever before. And the soles of her feet were the most ticklish part of her body.
It was the single most intense tickle torture she ever endured to date in her young life.
Natalie didn’t notice that the young cheerleader was slowly getting quieter and quieter over the course of the next few minutes, as well much calmer. The high school girl was completely silent and still for about half a minute before Natalie realized that she passed out. The post-orgasm tickling of Felicia’s bare feet had only taken 5 minutes, yet it was enough to knock her out.
Natalie took in Felicia’s unconscious form, comparing the perfect, all-smiles, blonde haired, blue eyed innocent young girl from the reconnaissance pictures Claudia showed her and the rest of the staff to the unconscious figure hanging in the air in front of her. Felicia’s hair was disheveled, going all over the place. One out-of-place lock of hair covered her right eye. Her face was red, covered with sweat and tears. Natalie knew the girl before her, in her current state, was completely ugly, but that turned her on. Knowing how much control she had over such a naïve young child turned her on greatly.
Natalie gazed upon Felicia’s B-cups with great lust, feeling the sexual pressure in her own body grow. She took the girls perky little breasts in her hands and felt the smooth skin against her fingertips. She groped the young 18 year old, becoming lost in the moment as she touched what so many high school males in one small town high school have dreamed of touching for as many as four long years. She took a handful of each of the young girl’s mounds, feeling the soft flesh in her hands, running her fingers over her nipples.
She reached up with one hand, the other one still feeling up one of Felicia’s breasts, and reached behind her head to press a button, hidden behind the blonde’s hair, on the back of her gag. Holding down the button, she slid the gag off of Felicia’s mouth. Natalie gazed, hypnotized, at Felicia’s lips, somewhere between pink and red (I don’t know. Most people’s lips aren’t quite red, but they really aren’t pink either) and slightly parted as she slept. The dominatrix suddenly found her self leaning forward, gently taking her victim’s head in one hand and passionately kissing her with the other.
Felicia woke up about 6 hours later in her cell. It was empty, save for another bowl of disgusting stew on the floor. She was starving, but suddenly conscious of the fact that cum had dried up and left stains all over her naked thighs. Putting her meal on hold for a moment, she began to wipe of the stains, realizing that it was pretty hard without water. There was no sink in her dinky little cell, and her face contorted with disgust as she realized that the only water in the cell was toilet water. She flushed the toilet twice, just to get the illusion of clean water. Then, disgusted, she reached in, scooped up some of the dungeon toilet water (a double whammy against the wonders of hygiene), and began wiping her legs in order to clean up the cum. Finishing up about a minute or two later, she shuffled over to the wall of the cell, slumping to the ground with her back to the wall. She thought back to her ordeal with Natalie, having an ORGASM as the KGB madwoman who was literally twice her age violated her. She thought of herself hanging in the air, moaning in lust, begging for more. She imagined her own vagina, wide open, as Natalie fingered it and licked inside it, and then heard her own voice coming from “off screen”, enjoying every moment of it. To her the image looked like cheap porn that a 13 year old boy would jerk off to in secret, and she realized that SHE was the cheap, dirty, disease ridden slut that was the star of the show. She hugged her knees, burying her face in her knees as she began to sob—her dignity and self-respect gone as she felt like, and believed she was, the ugliest and most disgusting human being in the world—ignoring her hunger and the stew that there to alleviate it for the next half hour.
End of Part 10
A/N Well, that's that. I'm sleepy right now and I don't have much to say. Leave me some comments and show me some love, because I could use a little of that right now. Oh, and also because I still have a giant ego and a desperate need to believe that my story is the only one on this forum that people actually read. Anyhoo, it's a quarter to six in the morning. Good night, TMFers..............ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
THE NEXT DAY: Well now that I'm up it had come to my attention that I forgot the attachments, which by this time should be up. The pictures below are solely the work and ideas of Dave2112. I did not create the Suspension Stocks. I only used them for my story. So everyone go thank Dave2112 for the wonder that IS the Suspension Stocks. Everyone but Felicia, that is.
Oh right. Yeah, I'm back. It's the middle of the night and I am barely functioning, but since I have other projects to do in the next few days of a non-tickling nature, I wanted to get this out to you as soon as possible.
Many of you are probably wondering why this is my first installment since December 2005. Unfortunately I have no real excusable answer to give. Between distractions and my diminishing lack of interest, I found myself without the drive to complete more than MAYBE a page at a time, and that much if I was feeling really creative and driven, or to even look at it more than once a month or whatever. Poor poor Felicia took a backseat to other facets of my life, including my personal life, which hasn't been going the way I want, although I really can't complain. Still, I will classify certain events and discoveries in my life to be under the category of "more sucking", a downgrade of where I was 10 months ago which has contributed to my lack of writing.
But anyhoo, enough of that crap. Felicia's back, and I promise to try to get more installments out more quickly (note the word "try". I can't actually guarantee anything). And that will mean more torment for our poor little Felicia as she tries to endure the horrors thrust upon her by tickle-torturing madmen, not to fight them or beat them or anything like that, but simply to survive. And in this chapter, she will experience new tortures and humiliations that she never imagined could ever happen to her. Which brings me to the surprise that I mentioned in the comments after my last story. I mentioned that there would be a surprise, and from the arts section no less? Well, fans of Dave2112's art, probably the best art on this entire forum, will be pleasantly surprised to find that tonight's feature torture device is none other than the dreaded, horrible, infamous SUSPENSION STOCKS!!!!!! *Cue the cheering of a bloodthirsty pro wrestling crowd*
But before that, you might want to reread Part 9. I know you all forgot what happened. Hell it's been so long that *I* forgot what happened. I'll give you a minor spoiler though for that part and Part 10; a girl named Felicia gets tickled. Here's the previous part written oh so long ago: http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=71328&highlight=felicia
And now, the long awaited first two digit installment of the series, I bring to you "Felicia the Cheerleader" Part 10:
Part 10 (F/F)
The first thing Felicia noticed when she woke up was that she was not on the ground. She was hovering roughly a yard above it. The second thing she noticed, when she attempted to move in order to get herself onto the aforementioned ground, was that she could not move. The third thing she noticed, as she proceeded to say something along the lines of “What the--?”, was that she could not speak.
Hearing the sound of Felicia’s voice through the gag, Natalie turned away from her table of tools. “Ah, darling, I see we have finally returned to the world of the living,” she greeted the high school cheerleader, who had been unconscious for over 4 hours, in a nearly incomprehensible Russian accent. Her eyes absorbed every inch of Felicia’s body, and she felt herself becoming turned on by the sight of the young girl in bondage. “How do you like the Suspension Stocks, my dear?”
Natalie had built the Suspension Stocks based off a piece of art from someone on a forum devoted to tickle torture. That was what Felicia was currently in. Hanging roughly a yard off a concrete floor, she was in a near hogtie position. A single metal bar came down from the ceiling, and from it 4 smaller bars connected to restraints that held her ankles and thighs in one position, which just so happened to be spread out and bent. Another bar also extended from the main bar, which held Felicia’s arms in another set of restraints. With her arms bent behind her head, her legs spread open, and her knees bent, every inch of her body was vulnerable. Another restraint of the same material was placed around her mouth, keeping her from speaking. (thank God for the magic of picture attachments. Just look at the attached photo to know what the hell I described in the last paragraph).
The room they were in (Natalie’s personal dungeon) was nothing like the others on the second subbasement of the BDSM club she was a prisoner of. It looked like the inside of a spaceship, maybe. There were metal walls that were divided into sections every 5 or 6 feet, like in a spaceship. The metal bar that held the Suspension Stocks was attached to another, larger bar (all these bars makes me wanna get drunk) that ran to a control panel with colorful blinking lights, located directly behind Felicia. To the right and left of that panel were large fans. Of course, Felicia could see none of that, or even what the Suspension Stocks actually looked like. As she looked around the room frantically, Natalie made a mental note to modify the device by attaching the gag to the arm restraints, immobilizing the victim’s head. Oh well, another day.
“You are quite the beautiful young lady, da?” she said. “So very beautiful. I bet you have many men in your public school that compete for your attention all the time, da, darling?”
Natalie stroked Felicia’s cheek with her hand. Her skin was soft and smooth. “I remember my high school days. Oh, I must have graduated about the time you were born,” Natalie continued her tale. “I remember my school in Russia, it was the Soviet Union at the time, and all the beautiful women and the handsome men in it, always, how you say, hooking up, yes?” She chuckled to herself. “I remember the men always fought for my attention. I was a stunning young woman back in my teenage years.” If nothing else, Felicia felt Natalie had this in her favor. The tall redhead was very stunning even now at about 35 years of age, despite being a couple inches TOO tall. “I remember, though, that when I saw a man I didn’t like, I didn’t go out of my way to break his heart!”
Deep, very deep inside, Felicia let out an exasperated sigh. Still with the whole business about breaking Bobby’s heart? Next she’ll go on about how she treated Ester—
“I remember that there were some people, not to go around—what’s the word? Oh yes—bragging, that weren’t as smart or as beautiful as I, but I remember treating them with respect. High school was bad enough, and it didn’t need the popular and pretty students like you and I stepping over everyone else. Making fun of the other girls like you did to that poor daughter of Robert and Claudia’s.”
--like shit. Godammit! Felicia wondered how they could possibly have come to any of these conclusions. If only they would let her defend herself instead of torturing her endlessly, then maybe she could make them understand that she never did anything wrong to anybody in her entire life.
“But something always confused me. You see, I hated those girls more than anything. Yet, I found myself strangely attracted to them. Da, that is right, I am bisexual,” she confirmed at the sight of a confused expression on Felicia’s face. “It was only in this way that I came to terms with my bisexuality, but the Soviet Union was morally strict. I believe the term you would use is ‘puritanical’, da? They made fun of, these girls and the handsome boys I was attracted to too, anyone who didn’t only like the opposite sex. That made me hate them more, both the guys and the girls, and the more I hated them, the more I found myself attracted to them.”
“After graduation, I joined the Soviet KGB, where I learned all sorts of…. ‘interrogation’ techniques. It allowed me to combine my hatred of those who I felt hatred towards and my attraction to the same people, if only in my mind. Though, my fondest memories was testing my techniques against very attractive ‘volunteers’ secretly chosen by the Soviet Government to fulfill their civic duty. After the fall of the Soviet Union, I came here to America where I could become the next best thing. A dominatrix. Funny, nyet? It wasn’t long before I found my way here to this club.”
Felicia felt every part of her body turn to lead as Natalie talked about her past. The KGB? She was having a little trouble understanding her through that accent, but she was positive she heard that correctly. This woman in front of her was trained by the KGB, and now she was going to torture her mercilessly, in the Suspension Stocks no less!?
Natalie circled around Felicia, eyeing every inch of the 18 year old’s nude form. Felicia felt herself tense up when the older woman exited her peripheral vision. “To be quite honest with you, my love, I don’t care for those children you’re being punished for picking on,” noted Natalie. “Bobby is too much of an immature spoiled brat for my taste. And Ester? God, I hate those kids, those what do you call them?” She muttered something to herself in Russian as she tried to remember. “Ah, da, yes, those Emo kids. Thinking life has been cruel to them when they have everything in the world.” She stopped in front of Felicia. “I’m not here to deal out “justice” or “revenge” on their behalf. This is for me. I’m here to give you exactly what you and your kind deserve. And I’m going to fulfill my sexual desires at the same time.”
Felicia’s eyes went wide with disgust. Fulfill her sexual desires? Felicia had never been with anybody before, especially not a woman. She may have been 18, but she was not at all ready to have her first sexual experience yet. She would definitely feel weird and confused for months if it were with a woman. She struggled in her bonds, but it was no use. There was no escape for her.
The young girl felt a flush of fear as the Russian dominatrix wiggled her long fingernails in the air in front of her. “So, my little princess, you get everything you want, da? Do you want to be tickled on your SIDES?” Felicia screamed through her gag as Natalie began scribbling her nails up and down Felicia’s incredibly ticklish sides.
“Are you getting everything you want from this, darling? If you want me to stop, then please say so,” said Natalie, not relenting from her attack.
The tickling was pure agony for Felicia. Natalie lightly skittered her long nails up and down Felicia’s sides, and the light touch was maddening. The cheerleader struggled wildly in her bonds, but thanks to the ingenious design of the Suspension Stocks, not only could she not escape the torture but she caused the entire thing to very slowly start rotating back and forth. If there’s one thing worse than hanging in midair in some uncomfortable contraption, it’s hanging in midair in some uncomfortable contraption where it’s moving back and forth via its own momentum.
Felicia’s muffled laughter quickly turned to muffled screams. She shook her head back and forth wildly, pleading with her captor with her eyes not to torture her anymore.
Natalie grabbed Felicia’s slender waste in a choking motion (let’s break this one down. Imagine someone opening their hand to choke someone else (“Does Wayne Brady have to choke a bitch?”) and now instead of the hands closing around the victim’s neck, they close around the victim’s waste so that the thumbs are near the navel. So simple, I didn’t have to write it down for future use) and began squeezing lightly. With her back forced into an arch position, her stomach, as well as her ribs and breasts, were stretched out as if she wanted to be tickled there. Another ingenious consequence of the ingenious design of the ingenious Suspension Stocks. Ingenious.
Beads of sweat dripped down Felicia’s forehead. Her body shook rapidly with laughter, conflicting with its current need for long deep breaths. She hung her lead limply as the wild laughter continued to beat against her gag.
Natalie stopped tickling her, moaning softly, almost purring, as she walked slowly around her teenage captive. Felicia didn’t even look behind her, she just shut her eyes and braced herself. Where would she get hit next? Knees? Feet?
She was startled when Natalie’s hands lightly slapped her ass, but nothing more than that. The dom lightly squeezed the younger girl’s ass cheeks before running a single finger down her spine. Felicia’s body tensed up as she whimpered from the contact, which sent shivers down her spine. Natalie repeated the process again and again, faster and faster, and the shivers quickly grew into tickling. Within seconds, Felicia’s pathetic whimpers transformed into full-on laughter. Why did EVERY part of her body have to be so excruciatingly ticklish? Even her BACK fought against her attempts to keep in control!
Felicia lost her battle in the war of control over her own body, laughing against the gag as Natalie’s fingers focused on her smooth ass. Felicia couldn’t believe how much it tickled. Even her ASS was ticklish! She had no idea!
For well over five minutes, Natalie mercilessly tickled Felicia’s ass. The cheerleader giggled hysterically the entire time, praying for the torture to stop. It was too much for her to bear. Fortunately the tickle torture stopped, and Felicia hung her head limply, panting heavily as the feeling of fingernails skittering all over her butt lingered on for a few extra seconds. While the high school girl struggled to regain her breath, her torturer pulled out of the pocket of her tight leather outfit a single small object, 3 inches in length, stiff yet soft, crimson red. She walked around to face Felicia, whose beautiful blue eyes widened in horror when she saw the object in question.
A feather!
“Well well,” purred the formed KGB agent as Felicia began to sob quietly to herself. “Where would be the best place on your vulnerable little body to use THIS, da?”
She knelt down beside Felicia, using her thumb and middle finger to give Felicia a quick pinch in her belly button and her flesh about an inch above it. The cheerleader gave out a startled yelp and the dominatrix pulled back. Natalie slowly ran the feather up and down between Felicia’s breasts. The light teasing touch was maddening and a wave of muffled giggles poured into the gag. The feather moved up and down, up and down, slowly making it’s way down Felicia’s solar plexus and into her excruciatingly sensitive little belly button. The giggles became more and more desperate, more and more intense, until the belly button was reached, and that’s when the screaming started. Natalie tickled Felicia all over her stomach, making sure to return to the girl’s navel as often as possible. Only a cruel God could have created a world where it was so easy to torture such a sweet and beautiful girl.
Eventually the belly torture stopped, but Natalie wasn’t done yet. She circled the girl, who could do nothing but hang there and gasp for air through her nose as her chest heaved, deciding where to use the feather next. Finally she decided.
Felicia screamed in horror, her blue eyes wide with shock, fear, and agony, as the feather slowly slid across the sole of her right foot.
As the feather tickled her most ticklish spot, Felicia instinctively tried to wiggle her feet to avoid the tickling tool. Unfortunately she was no longer laying on Duugo’s torture rack (if you can call that unfortunate). Her knees were bent and her feet were far behind her back. Just like the ring finger cannot bend fully if you hold you pinkie so it is extended fully, Felicia could not move her feet from side to side. She could extend her toes and move her foot in the direction of her shin (which made her bare foot MORE vulnerable), or she could go the other way and try to straighten her foot and scrunch her toes (which didn’t do much to make her foot less vulnerable). The feather tickled every spot on Felicia’s right foot for what seemed like ages, but was in actuality only a few minutes, even effortlessly tickling between her toes. Felicia howled into the gag as her body struggled to free itself from the Suspension Stocks.
There was a brief pause, but before she had the time to start catching her breath, she felt the feather slide between the toes of her left foot. A shriek escaped the young girl’s lips. Her eyes widened in fearful anticipation as she felt Natalie holding her second and middle toes apart, then shutting tight, her face contorting with what almost looked like pain, as the feather slid between her toes. She screamed as if Natalie had inserted an electric drill into her vagina. The cruel feather, manipulated by its cruel master, explored and tormented every inch of the not-so-cruel girl’s not-so-cruel-but-cruelly-sensitive left foot. Felicia screamed more than she laughed, screaming harder as Natalie dropped the feather on the ground and tickled both her feet at the same time with her long-and-cruel fingernails (while this was going on, the incredibly-cruel-but-really-not-so-much-just-more-like-screwed-up-in-the-head author decided to check his thesaurus for a synonym for the word “cruel”). Unlike the feather, which was slow and light, the woman’s fingernails were fast moving and unpredictable. Felicia’s head shook violently from side-to-side, her matted hair landing in front of her face, covering her eyes. Her body shook as her voice grew hoarse from screaming. Soon she screamed no more, but that didn’t stop her from trying. Her lungs were, as always, ready to burst. She felt herself become dizzy. But the double-handed foot tickling went on for a total of 23 minutes, not to count the couple of minutes that feather spent on her left foot.
Natalie stopped only when her victim was unconscious.
Thirty seconds later, a hard slap to the face woke Felicia up. “You fucking whore! Wake up! I’ll do more than just tickle you if you fall asleep on me again! I’m sure I can find a chainsaw somewhere around here!” she screamed in Russian, with Felicia not understanding a word. Rest assured, there were no chainsaws around to cut Felicia to ribbons, nor would Natalie have even seriously considered such an idea. The cheerleader blinked her eyes open, aware that she was feeling pain without actually feeling pain. She felt the pain when Natalie slapped her hard against the left side of her face a second time, and this time Felicia was wide awake, her cheek throbbing with pain. Natalie examined the blonde beauty’s face closely, taking note of her disheveled matted hair in front of her face, her sweat and tear covered cheeks which were almost beet red. “You are hideous when you are tickled, you are aware of that?” commented Natalie in English with no remorse or feeling in her voice. Felicia closed her eyes in shame, looking away. While she was not anorexic, emo, or particularly whiny in that “I’m so miserable” sort of way, she had more self-esteem issues than a girl with her physical appearance normally would. This was despite the fact that every girl in school wanted to be friends with her and every guy in school liked her (either they just wanted to do it with her or they really liked her and wanted to get to know her). In general she could be described as confident, but unlike many beautiful high school girls who went around thinking they were queen of the world no matter what people thought of them, Felicia’s more passive and “pushover” nature sometimes made her wonder if she was good enough to get the guy or if people would like her and so on. Normal stuff for most people, especially in high school. She didn’t need, especially at a time like this, to hear a comment like that.
Natalie reached into her pocket, pulling out another object. The sound of an electrical device coming to life caused Felicia to slowly lift her head, fear spreading throughout the young girl’s body. The sound came from an electric toothbrush. Felicia screamed into her gag, shaking her head wildly in fear. Natalie gently brushed Felicia’s hair out of her eyes. “I wonder if your sensitive body can handle my little toy?” wondered Natalie aloud as she slowly raised the toothbrush towards her right elbow. Felicia had been tickled by electric toothbrushes before, and her breaths became shorter and more forced as she thought of the feeling that the rapidly spinning bristles would make on her smooth creamy skin. The tickling would be much more intense from the electric toothbrush than bare hands or the feather, and what’s worse was that since the bristles rotated on their own, Natalie did not even have to move it for Felicia to feel the full force of the tickling. Zero effort on the part of the torturer, but every effort on the part of the victim to do what she could not. Withstand the intense tickle torture she was about to receive.
The toothbrush touched her tricep, right below her elbow and slowly moved downwards, closer and closer to her right underarm. She began to giggle uncontrollably, her pleading eyes meeting Natalie’s as she shook and squirmed. If she couldn’t stand being tickled on her arm, there was no way she could withstand it in her sensitive armpits. Her giggles grew more and more intense until, as the spinning bristles touched her ticklish hollow, her entire body seemed to explode. She writhed violently in the Suspension Stocks, completely unable to escape her ticklish fate.
Less than a minute elapsed before Natalie stopped, leaving poor Felicia gasping for air through her nose. She began to cry as Natalie eyes her tiny B-cup breasts. “Ooh, darling, I wonder if your nipples are ticklish to, yes? Your breasts, what do men call them in your language, your “tits” are so tiny. It’s like you left them home when you went to school, yes? Oh, darling, do not cry. It will all be over before you know it.” Felicia pleaded with Natalie as the dominatrix went for her nipples, but the pleas went ignored (not counting the fact that one couldn’t actually understand Felicia through the gag. Was she really pleading? Or was she trying to have an intelligent political conversation? I will answer that question for a $10 fee. The answer will shock you and turn your world upside-down). The electric toothbrush made contact with the girl’s sensitive nipples and all hell broke loose. Literally, the Devil came out of the floor and dragged Natalie down into Hell with him. Just kidding. But the toothbrush sent shockwaves into Felicia’s nipples so bad she felt them in her hips. Her nipples were very sensitive (I think by now it’s a gimme that EVERY part of her body is very sensitive) and could not stand against the automatic tickle device. The device jumped from one nipple to the other, tickling her bare chest with unrelenting fury.
Felicia endured this for about 4 minutes. Her nipples were tingling like never before when it was over. Her chest heaved in quick motions as she cried softly to herself, wanting more than anything else to be set free, even if she was only sent back to her cell. She had been tickled nonstop since early this morning, though she wasn’t sure what time it was since she had passed out between being tickled by Duugo (a heavenly experience, it was not) and being tickled by Natalie.
Both Natalie walking around behind Felicia and the sound of the electric toothbrush humming to life again only barely registered in the exhausted mind of the naked cheerleader. She did not miss, however and unfortunately, the dual purpose teeth cleaning and cheerleader tickling device find its towards her exposed and vulnerable genitals. She let forth an ear-splitting scream as Natalie ran the electric toothbrush over her crotch, making sure Felicia’s pussy lips, labia, and clit received the brunt of the torture. She tried with all her might to close her legs, but the Suspension Stocks kept the girl hanging the air and her legs wide open, with her pussy easily accessible to anyone who might want to do malicious things to it, as the former KGB agent was doing right now. The tickling that she felt was beyond words. Her clitoris was, by nature, more sensitive than her nipples. Every rotation of the brush, every movement of each bristle, sent shockwaves through her nerve-endings that registered as nothing but pure agony, all of it centered in the innocent girl’s most sensitive and vulnerable place.
Laughter exploded out of her, but after 8 and a half minutes, it was silent laughter that was throwing itself against the gag that muffled her screams of agony and cries for mercy. Her toes curled up as tears streamed down her sweaty face. Just as they always do. Felicia failed to sense anything that was going on in the room. It was as if her sense of hearing and sight were suddenly done away with, and her sense of touch was only active between her legs. Felicia would have done anything to stop it. She would have sold her family, as much as she loved them, to the dungeon from the movie “Hostel” if it would have stopped her suffering, it was really that bad. Her chest felt like it was being crushed from laughing so hard, and sweat covered her entire body as she laughed like never before. Felicia thrashed about with renewed vigor as the toothbrush “cleaned” (haha, get it? It’s a toothbrush and it cleans your teeth? Oh you all suck) back and forth between her vagina and her asshole, making the toothbrush completely unsuitable for its original manufactured purpose.
This went on for just over 4 more minutes before, much to Felicia’s relief, Natalie stopped and turned off the toothbrush. Felicia was crying softly, her mind still feeling the device tickling her pussy. Anyone who thinks tickling is simply a fun little game need only to hear this girl’s tale of woe in order to think differently. Natalie kissed Felicia’s forehead, moving her hair behind her head as she gently stroked Felicia’s cheek. “Calm down, darling. You are calm now, yes? I have a nice surprise for you. We are both women, we know what causes us pleasure. I think you are going to enjoy this. Think of it as a gift from a woman to a woman.”
Felicia cocked her head in confusion. What did that mean? She had been kidnapped by Robert, Claudia and the rest of the family for the past 2 months (though she wasn’t aware of the exact amount of time, it was all simply an eternity of endless days in captivity to her) and not once did they ever think of giving her anything that would be classified as pleasurable. She was actually about a half second away from realizing what Natalie meant by “a gift from a WOMAN to a WOMAN” when the 6’1” dominatrix took something off of the small table with wheels that had been in the corner next to the fan (remember the table of tools from the second paragraph?) and strode over to Felicia. The 110 pound cheerleader’s eyes went wide with horror.
A vibrator!
If one were to spend five minutes with Felicia, one would imagine that she had never masturbated before in her life. That was not true (how does the song go? “I’m not THAT innocent”). She only did it occasionally, but she did do it, and she enjoyed it immensely. She knew exactly how and where to touch herself in order to give herself an orgasm. She was a sexually modest girl and all, but she wasn’t a nun or anything. She didn’t view masturbation as gross or immoral or anything.
The thing was it was always her touching HERSELF. She would NEVER imagine letting someone else masturbating for her. Especially another girl. She wasn’t homophobic or anything, but she just never felt comfortable with the idea of a woman performing sexual acts on her (though in her recent months of captivity, she had come to prefer a woman tickling her privates over a man simply because she didn’t trust the men who had been torturing her to restrain themselves from sexually assaulting her). And she had never used a sex toy before! She didn’t want to anyway. She never felt comfortable with the idea of some electronic device buzzing around her vagina, or some giant rubber penis-shaped dildo creating havoc inside of her. There was only one way she felt comfortable masturbating: CONSENTUALLY (usually to the thought of a hot college guy or a hot celebrity), by herself, using her hand, and in private. This was completely the opposite: completely against her will, done by somebody else, with a vibrator, and that other person would hear her moans and see her cum.
Oh God, this woman would be watching her have an ORGASM!!!! Felicia just couldn’t shake off how sick this whole thing was. How wrong it was. She prayed that she wouldn’t actually feel sexual pleasure, as Natalie had claimed she would. She could not let this dominatrix watch her orgasm.
Natalie disappeared behind her, and she heard the mechanical humming noise that signaled the vibrator coming to life. She steeled herself, knowing that no matter what, she could not let herself feel an ounce of pleasure from this, or else Natalie would have her sick victory. Even if involved torturing herself, even if holding it in hurt, she must not allow herself to orgasm.
She tried to focus on something in the room as the mechanical whirring sound came closer and closer (although it really didn’t seem like the sound was getting any louder or softer, so it was more like she would be hearing it and then she would be feeling it at some random moment); she focused her eyes on the doorway and imagined walking out of it, fully clothed and heading towards freedom without resistance. She wanted that more than—
“MMMMFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!” Her scream was long and low as the vibrator made contact to her vulnerable pussy. The feeling was so hard to explain, but she took some small (very small) relief in the fact that she did not enjoy it one bit. It definitely didn’t tickle, but it didn’t give her any sexual pleasure either. But it still gave her a throbbing tingle, and it made her squirm desperately in the Suspension Stocks. More than anything else, it felt gross. So gross. Not the vibrator itself, of course. That was plastic. Or metal. I honestly have no idea what vibrators are made of. No, it was the feeling it was giving her, it grossed her out more than anything else.
Natalie skillfully maneuvered the sex toy around Felicia’s helpless groin, teasing her inner thighs before gliding it across her pussy lips. Felicia shut her eyes tight, holding her head in one direction and then the other as she tried to block out the horrible throbbing sensation between her legs. She opened her eyes and, with a look of desperate pain in her eyes, centered her attention to the door, trying to imagine herself walking out the door, every detail of what it would feel like right down to the feeling of the ground beneath her shoes and the feeling of the shoes on her feet. The images were nothing but a blur to her (apparently Felicia walking out of the room on her own would be something akin to a broken record on acid. Yes, you read that correctly. A broken record on acid. That’s why we listen to CD’s now), and the powerful feeling of the vibrator was overpowering. She clenched and unclenched her fists inside her restraints (a very difficult endeavor) and tried desperately to focus her attention on that, but that was to no avail either. Nor was her vain attempt to scrunch and unscrunch her toes (or rather, to focus her attention on it). She had it for about a second, but her mind automatically shifted its focus back to the devilish device between her legs. Once that happened, her feet stopped consciously moving. Wildly shaking her feet also failed.
Felicia grunted and groaned, her chest heaving as she tried to deal with her current predicament. Not only could she not close her legs or move her arms down to defend herself, she couldn’t even wiggle that area out of the way. Not even a little bit. The intense, rhythmic throbbing that she felt between her legs seemed to resonate throughout her whole body, and she was having trouble keeping herself under control.
She was about to moan—and then stifled herself abruptly. Then it hit her. Oh God, what she was feeling down there was the same as when she masturbated herself, only even more intense to due its uncontrollable nature. It was sexual pleasure, she was actually enjoying herself! No, she couldn’t let that happen. It was wrong! If she felt pleasure from such a perverted act, then it would make her no different from them! Even if that meant torturing herself, she could not let herself take pleasure from that vibrator.
Another moan escaped her lips, impacting against the gag. She tightened her lips and hoped that the gag would muffle any further sound. As Natalie sadistically used her free hand to part open the high school captive’s pussy lips, she pressed the pleasure/torture tool against her sensitive clit and left it there. Felicia moaned again, this time loudly, despite her best efforts not to.
Another moan filled the air, followed by another. The throbbing sensation was growing more and more intense, but it wasn’t gross anymore. It was pure bliss, unmitigated sexual pleasure that she could have never obtained herself. She shook her head, closing her eyes as she quite loudly took the deepest of breaths. No, she couldn’t possibly let herself take pleasure in all this. It was horrible. This woman’s intent for her was malevolent and cruel. She, and the rest of the staff, had tortured and were planning on continuing torturing Felicia for the rest of her natural life. Natalie was just trying to turn her into a sexual pervert like the rest of them. It wasn’t that it was homosexual—Felicia was fine with homosexuality although she wasn’t into it herself—it was that it was forced sex, a form of torture, and it was dirty. This was different that the tickling, it was intended to do more than torture her. It was intended to corrupt her, and she had to fight it. She could not fight the tickling, so she HAD to fight this.
Oh but it was no use. She could feel the pressure, the sexual frustration, inside of her building, ready to explode like a nuclear bomb. She held her breath, stifling another moan. Unfortunately, and ironically, the sound of her making her moan inaudible was in fact quite audible. That sucks.
“Do not try to fight it, child. I do not try to torture you with this. You have suffered enough so far during your captivity. This is simply for your pleasure,” assured the ex-KGB dominatrix. She muttered something in Russian, and then Felicia’s eyes went wide open in shock as she let out an ear-piercing scream. The red haired demoness, who was already on her knees during the whole vibrator scene (look at the picture that I hopefully remembered to attach. It should be obvious even though I forgot to mention it that she had to be on her knees to reach Felicia’s crotch), picked up the feather and was poking it around Felicia’s crotch along with the vibrator. Quick staccato moan/screams built up as the feather entered her and made direct contact with the clit while the vibrator did its thing, also vibrating against her clit. This double whammy was proving more than Felicia could handle.
Felicia let out another moan, long and low. How could something feel so good and so bad at the same time? No, she didn’t want it to feel bad, but she couldn’t let it feel good. It wasn’t good, and she couldn’t let it feel as such. The fact that she was feeling some pleasure from this (at the purely physical level) made her feel dirty, disgusting, and self-conscious. It was as if a million eyes were watching her in her bathroom masturbating at the thought of her favorite celebrity or high school crush.
She could feel the sexual energy forming inside of her. She tensed her body, fighting with every ounce of strength not to orgasm, not to derive any physical pleasure from this sexual violation against her. She felt her lungs take in air, her mind unconsciously not releasing the air. Her head was throbbing from the sexual tension and her efforts to suppress any degree of pleasure she could possibly derive from being vibrated by Natalie.
But the buildup of sexual energy inside of her was too great to contain, and she was just too exhausted to fight back. She felt her body relax and then felt the warm liquid escape her vagina, letting out a low, almost primal moan that filled the air of the torture chamber. Her head swam and felt dizzy, and every nerve in her body tingled and felt ultra sensitive, most notably her pussy. Her clit was still throbbing. Her body glistened with sweat as she hung there with head lowered.
“Da, so you like, da?” asked Natalie. “You enjoy being in bondage, being brought to orgasm by someone else’s touch. A woman’s touch. You are quite the little slut, yes?”
Felicia hung her head in shame. She felt dirty, like one of those porn stars who have sex with thirty guys onscreen, always with a dick in every hole and in both hands, all of which cum on her face to be licked up, swallowed, and enjoyed. She felt like one of them. Tears trickled slowly down her cheeks, this time tears of a girl with a shattered slef-esteem.
“Even a little slut deserves a good laugh,” continued the dominatrix, skittering her fingernails ruthlessly across the soles of Felicia’s feet.
Tickling Felicia’s feet now was one of the cruelest things Natalie could possibly have done. It was like the tickling version of being stabbed. Apparently, your body is much more sensitive and ticklish after an orgasm, as every nerve ending in your body seems to be tingling. Felicia had never even wondered if such a thing were true (she had never even heard of that allegation), but now she was experiencing its validity firsthand.
Her eyes bulged as she struggled like a madwoman, trying to break out of the Suspension Stocks with energy she didn’t even have (of course. Her body was able to take surrounding matter and convert it into energy. All she had to do was keep struggling and the Suspension Stocks would disappear and turn into energy which she could then use to struggle around on the concrete floor. That’s not fantasy physics). Her head shook wildly, her torso moved what little it could move and her feet did the same. Screams and laughter wildly escaped her lips only to be silenced by the gag, her mind not coherent enough to form those sounds into any known language with which she could use to beg in vain. Her lungs ached, feeling as if a 600 pound fat person was sitting on her slender torso. Her throat and cheeks were sore and her head wasn’t all there.
The tickling was excruciating. The aftermath of the orgasm made her already incredibly ticklish body more ticklish than ever before. And the soles of her feet were the most ticklish part of her body.
It was the single most intense tickle torture she ever endured to date in her young life.
Natalie didn’t notice that the young cheerleader was slowly getting quieter and quieter over the course of the next few minutes, as well much calmer. The high school girl was completely silent and still for about half a minute before Natalie realized that she passed out. The post-orgasm tickling of Felicia’s bare feet had only taken 5 minutes, yet it was enough to knock her out.
Natalie took in Felicia’s unconscious form, comparing the perfect, all-smiles, blonde haired, blue eyed innocent young girl from the reconnaissance pictures Claudia showed her and the rest of the staff to the unconscious figure hanging in the air in front of her. Felicia’s hair was disheveled, going all over the place. One out-of-place lock of hair covered her right eye. Her face was red, covered with sweat and tears. Natalie knew the girl before her, in her current state, was completely ugly, but that turned her on. Knowing how much control she had over such a naïve young child turned her on greatly.
Natalie gazed upon Felicia’s B-cups with great lust, feeling the sexual pressure in her own body grow. She took the girls perky little breasts in her hands and felt the smooth skin against her fingertips. She groped the young 18 year old, becoming lost in the moment as she touched what so many high school males in one small town high school have dreamed of touching for as many as four long years. She took a handful of each of the young girl’s mounds, feeling the soft flesh in her hands, running her fingers over her nipples.
She reached up with one hand, the other one still feeling up one of Felicia’s breasts, and reached behind her head to press a button, hidden behind the blonde’s hair, on the back of her gag. Holding down the button, she slid the gag off of Felicia’s mouth. Natalie gazed, hypnotized, at Felicia’s lips, somewhere between pink and red (I don’t know. Most people’s lips aren’t quite red, but they really aren’t pink either) and slightly parted as she slept. The dominatrix suddenly found her self leaning forward, gently taking her victim’s head in one hand and passionately kissing her with the other.
Felicia woke up about 6 hours later in her cell. It was empty, save for another bowl of disgusting stew on the floor. She was starving, but suddenly conscious of the fact that cum had dried up and left stains all over her naked thighs. Putting her meal on hold for a moment, she began to wipe of the stains, realizing that it was pretty hard without water. There was no sink in her dinky little cell, and her face contorted with disgust as she realized that the only water in the cell was toilet water. She flushed the toilet twice, just to get the illusion of clean water. Then, disgusted, she reached in, scooped up some of the dungeon toilet water (a double whammy against the wonders of hygiene), and began wiping her legs in order to clean up the cum. Finishing up about a minute or two later, she shuffled over to the wall of the cell, slumping to the ground with her back to the wall. She thought back to her ordeal with Natalie, having an ORGASM as the KGB madwoman who was literally twice her age violated her. She thought of herself hanging in the air, moaning in lust, begging for more. She imagined her own vagina, wide open, as Natalie fingered it and licked inside it, and then heard her own voice coming from “off screen”, enjoying every moment of it. To her the image looked like cheap porn that a 13 year old boy would jerk off to in secret, and she realized that SHE was the cheap, dirty, disease ridden slut that was the star of the show. She hugged her knees, burying her face in her knees as she began to sob—her dignity and self-respect gone as she felt like, and believed she was, the ugliest and most disgusting human being in the world—ignoring her hunger and the stew that there to alleviate it for the next half hour.
End of Part 10
A/N Well, that's that. I'm sleepy right now and I don't have much to say. Leave me some comments and show me some love, because I could use a little of that right now. Oh, and also because I still have a giant ego and a desperate need to believe that my story is the only one on this forum that people actually read. Anyhoo, it's a quarter to six in the morning. Good night, TMFers..............ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
THE NEXT DAY: Well now that I'm up it had come to my attention that I forgot the attachments, which by this time should be up. The pictures below are solely the work and ideas of Dave2112. I did not create the Suspension Stocks. I only used them for my story. So everyone go thank Dave2112 for the wonder that IS the Suspension Stocks. Everyone but Felicia, that is.
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