Hello all. Here's an old story of mine from newsgroup days. I've made a few minor revisions and will post it here in three parts. Hope you enjoy!
BRIAN'S SECOND CHANCE
Part One
"C'mon, Adrienne." Brian was trying to keep calm, but his voice betrayed a hint of panic. "This isn't funny."
"Well, it looks pretty funny to me." His beautiful blonde wife grinned. "I guess I can see where you'd fail to see the humor, though."
"Adrienne, let me go!" He squirmed in his bonds. "I'm starting to cramp!"
The drug she'd obviously slipped him was wearing off, and Brian realized that he was in one hell of an uncomfortable position. Adrienne had placed him naked on his knees, bound hands high over his head, ankles tied to the ends of a sawed-off broom handle. The free end of the rope binding his wrists passed over a pipe fixed to the basement ceiling and was tied to the center of the broom handle. The rope was short enough to raise Brian's feet slightly. As a finishing touch, she'd screwed a small hook into the floor between his thighs, looped some string around his dangling balls, and tied the free ends to the hook. That kept his body tense. . .REALLY tense. . .
"We'll get started in a moment," Adrienne said. "But first I want you to understand WHY I have to do this, Brian."
"Adrienne, PLEASE—!"
"Beg all you want, Brian." She stepped forward and patted his cheek. "I WANT to hear you beg. But it's not going to do you any good. You betrayed me with those two tramps. And now you're going to PAY for it."
"Oh God Adrienne I'm SORRY—!"
"No, you're not. But you will be." Adrienne gave him a long look. "Can you guess how I've chosen to punish you, Brian?"
"Don't hurt me, Adrienne!" he squealed. "PLEASE don't hurt me!"
"Oh, darling, don't worry!" She laughed. "It won't hurt a bit!"
And Adrienne showed him the feather—the long, stiff, pointed feather.
His eyes widened. "Omygod NO!" he gasped. "Not THAT, Adrienne! You know how TICKLISH I am!"
"Exactly," she agreed.
"I'm begging you, Adrienne! Don't DO this!"
He continued to beg and plead as she laid out her chosen instruments on the floor in front of him. Besides the feather, there were a couple of artist's paintbrushes, a shaving brush, a length of knotted string, a box of round toothpicks, and a fluffy orange feather duster. The sight of them made Brian's asshole pucker. She wouldn’t do this, he told himself. She COULDN’T do this!
Then Adrienne started to take her clothes off. She did it slowly, to tantalize him, and he moaned softly when she was down to the heels, sheer stockings and lacy red garter belt he'd always loved to have her wear for him.
"You know, darling," she whispered, "it's hard to believe that you gave up all THIS for a pair of cheap little sluts like Peggy and Kim." She tossed her long blonde hair. "You see, Brian, I know all about your girlfriends."
"That's right, Adrienne! You're right!" he babbled. "They WERE just cheap sluts! One-night stands! They didn't mean a THING to me!"
"Be that as it may," his wife said, stepping closer. "But now we really should get started."
She knelt face to face with him and looked into his eyes. "The thing is, darling, that I can't decide just WHERE to begin. As we both know, you're so VERY ticklish—all over. Isn't that so?"
Brian wiggled in his bonds. His skin crawled with anticipatory dread.
"Here, for instance," Adreinne whispered, drawing her fingernails down his sides.
"YAAAAHAAAA!!!" he yelped. "Oh Jesus no—"
"And here." She probed his armpits.
"EEEEEEHEEEEEE!!!" Brian squealed. Adrienne PLEASE—!"
"And, of course, here." She stroked his belly.
"AAAAAAHAAAAAA!!!" he screamed. "Adrienne! Stop it PLEASE!"
"You're just so SENSITIVE, Brian." She grinned. "So masculine and muscular." She ran her fingers through his dark chest hair. "Yet so very, very VULNERABLE to my slightest touch. . ."
Adrienne flexed her fingers in front of his face. "Where should I begin, Brian? You choose."
"Don't DO this, Adrienne! Please! PLEASE!" There was genuine fear in Brian's voice now. He was totally aware of just how unbearably ticklish he was. "I couldn't STAND it!"
"We have to start somewhere," she whispered, paying no attention to his pleas "How about HERE?"
"AAAH-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-HAAA-HAAA!!!" Brian shrieked as she went to work on his exposed armpits with the manicured tips of her index fingers. "PLEEE-HEEE-HEEE-EEEEEE-HIIIEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEESE!!! HAAAA-HAAAA- AAAAH-HAAAA!!! OH-NO-HO-HO-OH-NO-HO-OH-HO-HO!!!"
Brian's naked body trembled violently; the hairs on his arms and legs stood up and quivered; his skin broke out in a delicate sweat. And he laughed. Oh, how he laughed! He laughed, and he laughed, and he fucking LAUGHED—!
As for Adrienne, she was smiling coldly as her nails traced delicate circles on Brian's ultra-sensitive skin. She actually found herself ENJOYING her husband's struggles and his screaming laughter. And he was making the most extraordinary FACES in response to her ministrations. It was all rather. . .sexy.
Adrienne's nipples extended themselves.
But she knew that she had to give Brian a rest. Adrienne had big plans for her wayward husband, and it wouldn't do to exhaust him in the first half hour. So, after about five minutes of nonstop tickling, she decided to allow him a short break. A very short break.
Brian sobbed with relief when she stopped. He sagged in his bonds, red-faced and gasping. Tears streamed from his eyes.
"Please Adrienne!" His voice was a trembling whisper. "I can't STAND this! I'll do anything—just please—don't TICKLE me again!"
"Aw, come on, darling." Adrienne turned to pick up one of the artist's paintbrushes. "You don't really think I'd let you off THAT easily, do you?" She held up the brush. "You haven't even experienced THIS yet."
"What. . .what are you going to do with it?" he asked fearfully.
"Can you guess, Brian?" She leaned forward. "No? Well, sweetie, what I had in mind was—THIS!"
And with an evil smile, Adrienne inserted the soft, pointed tip of the brush into his navel and twirled it!
"HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Brian screamed as his bare body shivered and convulsed. "PLEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEHEE-HEE-HEEEESE!!!"
"Oooo, we ARE ticklish there, aren't we?" She twirled the brush again.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA-AAAAAAH-"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Brain bellowed. His belly tightened and rippled. Had it not been for the string connecting his balls to the hook, he'd probably have hit the ceiling. "EEEEEEEE-HEHEHEHEHE-EEEEEEEE-EEEEEEEE-HEHEHEHEHE!!! OH-NO-HO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!
"Want me to STOP?" Adrienne inquired, withdrawing the brush from his navel. "Want me to let you GO, darling?" She swirled the brush back and forth across his belly. "Well, I might—IF you tell me what I want to hear."
"Anything!" he gasped. "Anything you WANT, Adrienne! Just please oh please please PLEASE stop TICKLING me—!"
"Well, since you say please." She put down the brush and patted his cheek. "But you HAVE been a naughty boy, Brian. Haven't you?"
"Yes! Yes, I have!" He nodded in frantic agreement. "But I'm sorry, Adrienne! I'm REALLY sorry! And I'll never do it again!"
"No, I doubt that you will. But tell me, Brian. Did you LOVE those other women— Peggy and Kim?"
"No! I TOLD you, Adrienne! They didn't mean a thing to me! They were just a couple of cheap sluts!"
"But how can I BELIEVE you, darling?" She picked up the feather and touched it to his nose. "How can I be SURE that you're telling me the truth?"
"I swear to GOD, Adrienne!" he cried desperately.
"I think we're going to have to see about that, Brian." Adrienne rose to her feet and moved around behind him. "I ALMOST believe you—but I think I want to hear you say it as if you mean it. As if you REALLY mean it. . ."
Adrienne knelt behind him and Brian quickly realized that it was going to be MUCH worse now that he couldn't see what his sadistic wife was doing. His muscles tightened. Not the feet, he prayed desperately. Anything but his fucking FEET—!
But Adrienne had other ideas. She touched the feather to the small of his back. Brian squirmed. "My," she giggled. "You're so completely EXPOSED darling."
Then Brian felt something horrible. . .something humiliating. . .something that was completely beyond the bounds of his experience. . .as Adrienne swept the feather down the crack of his bare and defenseless BEHIND—!
"OH-NO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!!" he screeched, squirming frantically. "HIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!
It was beyond torture—it was an indescribably exquisite agony, and Brian screamed hysterically. He was quite certain that nothing could possibly be worse than THIS—!
Then Adrienne dipped the feather down between his straining thighs, and Brian discovered that there was, indeed, at least one thing worse than having one's asshole tickled!
The feather stroked his bound balls, very gently—and Brian did his absolute very best to jump right the fuck out of his fucking SKIN—!
“YAAAAAHAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!!! Brian howled. “HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEE-HEE-HEE!!!"
"Oh, darling, does that TICKLE?" Adrienne laughed wickedly. She stroked again—and again—and AGAIN—!
The maddening sensation produced by this wickedly intimate caress forced shriek after ear-splitting shriek of laughter from Brian's raw throat. Each time Adrienne stroked, his exhausted body twisted and jerked spasmodically. Cold sweat trickled down his sides. Spittle flew from his wide-open mouth. Adrienne was driving him BUGFUCK—and there wasn't a damned thing he could DO about it!
When finally she stopped he simply hung there, gasping, wheezing and weeping, so utterly exhausted that he couldn't even beg for mercy.
Adrienne got up and moved around to face him. She lifted his chin and smiled into his tear-filled eyes. "Now, darling—tell me again. Tell me about Peggy and Kim."
And he did. He told her that they were a couple of cheap tramps, sluts, bitches, cunts—he told her that he'd hated and despised them—he told her that the thought of them simply made him want to PUKE—!
"Enough" Adrienne let his head drop. "Well, Brian, that was more like it. I believe you. And I promise not to tickle you any more."
"Oh, thank you!" he sobbed. "Thank you, Adrienne, thank you, THANK you—!"
"There's just one thing, darling," she said.
Brian raised his head.
"I haven't introduced our guests." Adrienne smiled.
"What—?" Brian trembled. "Who—?"
"Well, really, Brian." She laughed. "You don't suppose I got your drugged body down here all by myself, do you?"
"Oh Jesus!" Brian wailed.
"They've been listening to your confession, Brian. And now I think THEY’D like to spend some time with you." Adrienne turned. "Ladies?"
Two figures emerged from the shadows at the far end of the basement. Brian recognized them. . .and cringed.
"Peggy, Kim, he's all yours." Adrienne giggled. "But if you don't mind, I think I'd like to stay—and watch."
BRIAN'S SECOND CHANCE
Part One
"C'mon, Adrienne." Brian was trying to keep calm, but his voice betrayed a hint of panic. "This isn't funny."
"Well, it looks pretty funny to me." His beautiful blonde wife grinned. "I guess I can see where you'd fail to see the humor, though."
"Adrienne, let me go!" He squirmed in his bonds. "I'm starting to cramp!"
The drug she'd obviously slipped him was wearing off, and Brian realized that he was in one hell of an uncomfortable position. Adrienne had placed him naked on his knees, bound hands high over his head, ankles tied to the ends of a sawed-off broom handle. The free end of the rope binding his wrists passed over a pipe fixed to the basement ceiling and was tied to the center of the broom handle. The rope was short enough to raise Brian's feet slightly. As a finishing touch, she'd screwed a small hook into the floor between his thighs, looped some string around his dangling balls, and tied the free ends to the hook. That kept his body tense. . .REALLY tense. . .
"We'll get started in a moment," Adrienne said. "But first I want you to understand WHY I have to do this, Brian."
"Adrienne, PLEASE—!"
"Beg all you want, Brian." She stepped forward and patted his cheek. "I WANT to hear you beg. But it's not going to do you any good. You betrayed me with those two tramps. And now you're going to PAY for it."
"Oh God Adrienne I'm SORRY—!"
"No, you're not. But you will be." Adrienne gave him a long look. "Can you guess how I've chosen to punish you, Brian?"
"Don't hurt me, Adrienne!" he squealed. "PLEASE don't hurt me!"
"Oh, darling, don't worry!" She laughed. "It won't hurt a bit!"
And Adrienne showed him the feather—the long, stiff, pointed feather.
His eyes widened. "Omygod NO!" he gasped. "Not THAT, Adrienne! You know how TICKLISH I am!"
"Exactly," she agreed.
"I'm begging you, Adrienne! Don't DO this!"
He continued to beg and plead as she laid out her chosen instruments on the floor in front of him. Besides the feather, there were a couple of artist's paintbrushes, a shaving brush, a length of knotted string, a box of round toothpicks, and a fluffy orange feather duster. The sight of them made Brian's asshole pucker. She wouldn’t do this, he told himself. She COULDN’T do this!
Then Adrienne started to take her clothes off. She did it slowly, to tantalize him, and he moaned softly when she was down to the heels, sheer stockings and lacy red garter belt he'd always loved to have her wear for him.
"You know, darling," she whispered, "it's hard to believe that you gave up all THIS for a pair of cheap little sluts like Peggy and Kim." She tossed her long blonde hair. "You see, Brian, I know all about your girlfriends."
"That's right, Adrienne! You're right!" he babbled. "They WERE just cheap sluts! One-night stands! They didn't mean a THING to me!"
"Be that as it may," his wife said, stepping closer. "But now we really should get started."
She knelt face to face with him and looked into his eyes. "The thing is, darling, that I can't decide just WHERE to begin. As we both know, you're so VERY ticklish—all over. Isn't that so?"
Brian wiggled in his bonds. His skin crawled with anticipatory dread.
"Here, for instance," Adreinne whispered, drawing her fingernails down his sides.
"YAAAAHAAAA!!!" he yelped. "Oh Jesus no—"
"And here." She probed his armpits.
"EEEEEEHEEEEEE!!!" Brian squealed. Adrienne PLEASE—!"
"And, of course, here." She stroked his belly.
"AAAAAAHAAAAAA!!!" he screamed. "Adrienne! Stop it PLEASE!"
"You're just so SENSITIVE, Brian." She grinned. "So masculine and muscular." She ran her fingers through his dark chest hair. "Yet so very, very VULNERABLE to my slightest touch. . ."
Adrienne flexed her fingers in front of his face. "Where should I begin, Brian? You choose."
"Don't DO this, Adrienne! Please! PLEASE!" There was genuine fear in Brian's voice now. He was totally aware of just how unbearably ticklish he was. "I couldn't STAND it!"
"We have to start somewhere," she whispered, paying no attention to his pleas "How about HERE?"
"AAAH-HAAA-AAAH-HAAA-HAAA-HAAA!!!" Brian shrieked as she went to work on his exposed armpits with the manicured tips of her index fingers. "PLEEE-HEEE-HEEE-EEEEEE-HIIIEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEESE!!! HAAAA-HAAAA- AAAAH-HAAAA!!! OH-NO-HO-HO-OH-NO-HO-OH-HO-HO!!!"
Brian's naked body trembled violently; the hairs on his arms and legs stood up and quivered; his skin broke out in a delicate sweat. And he laughed. Oh, how he laughed! He laughed, and he laughed, and he fucking LAUGHED—!
As for Adrienne, she was smiling coldly as her nails traced delicate circles on Brian's ultra-sensitive skin. She actually found herself ENJOYING her husband's struggles and his screaming laughter. And he was making the most extraordinary FACES in response to her ministrations. It was all rather. . .sexy.
Adrienne's nipples extended themselves.
But she knew that she had to give Brian a rest. Adrienne had big plans for her wayward husband, and it wouldn't do to exhaust him in the first half hour. So, after about five minutes of nonstop tickling, she decided to allow him a short break. A very short break.
Brian sobbed with relief when she stopped. He sagged in his bonds, red-faced and gasping. Tears streamed from his eyes.
"Please Adrienne!" His voice was a trembling whisper. "I can't STAND this! I'll do anything—just please—don't TICKLE me again!"
"Aw, come on, darling." Adrienne turned to pick up one of the artist's paintbrushes. "You don't really think I'd let you off THAT easily, do you?" She held up the brush. "You haven't even experienced THIS yet."
"What. . .what are you going to do with it?" he asked fearfully.
"Can you guess, Brian?" She leaned forward. "No? Well, sweetie, what I had in mind was—THIS!"
And with an evil smile, Adrienne inserted the soft, pointed tip of the brush into his navel and twirled it!
"HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Brian screamed as his bare body shivered and convulsed. "PLEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEHEE-HEE-HEEEESE!!!"
"Oooo, we ARE ticklish there, aren't we?" She twirled the brush again.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA-AAAAAAH-"HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!" Brain bellowed. His belly tightened and rippled. Had it not been for the string connecting his balls to the hook, he'd probably have hit the ceiling. "EEEEEEEE-HEHEHEHEHE-EEEEEEEE-EEEEEEEE-HEHEHEHEHE!!! OH-NO-HO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!
"Want me to STOP?" Adrienne inquired, withdrawing the brush from his navel. "Want me to let you GO, darling?" She swirled the brush back and forth across his belly. "Well, I might—IF you tell me what I want to hear."
"Anything!" he gasped. "Anything you WANT, Adrienne! Just please oh please please PLEASE stop TICKLING me—!"
"Well, since you say please." She put down the brush and patted his cheek. "But you HAVE been a naughty boy, Brian. Haven't you?"
"Yes! Yes, I have!" He nodded in frantic agreement. "But I'm sorry, Adrienne! I'm REALLY sorry! And I'll never do it again!"
"No, I doubt that you will. But tell me, Brian. Did you LOVE those other women— Peggy and Kim?"
"No! I TOLD you, Adrienne! They didn't mean a thing to me! They were just a couple of cheap sluts!"
"But how can I BELIEVE you, darling?" She picked up the feather and touched it to his nose. "How can I be SURE that you're telling me the truth?"
"I swear to GOD, Adrienne!" he cried desperately.
"I think we're going to have to see about that, Brian." Adrienne rose to her feet and moved around behind him. "I ALMOST believe you—but I think I want to hear you say it as if you mean it. As if you REALLY mean it. . ."
Adrienne knelt behind him and Brian quickly realized that it was going to be MUCH worse now that he couldn't see what his sadistic wife was doing. His muscles tightened. Not the feet, he prayed desperately. Anything but his fucking FEET—!
But Adrienne had other ideas. She touched the feather to the small of his back. Brian squirmed. "My," she giggled. "You're so completely EXPOSED darling."
Then Brian felt something horrible. . .something humiliating. . .something that was completely beyond the bounds of his experience. . .as Adrienne swept the feather down the crack of his bare and defenseless BEHIND—!
"OH-NO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!!" he screeched, squirming frantically. "HIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!
It was beyond torture—it was an indescribably exquisite agony, and Brian screamed hysterically. He was quite certain that nothing could possibly be worse than THIS—!
Then Adrienne dipped the feather down between his straining thighs, and Brian discovered that there was, indeed, at least one thing worse than having one's asshole tickled!
The feather stroked his bound balls, very gently—and Brian did his absolute very best to jump right the fuck out of his fucking SKIN—!
“YAAAAAHAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!!! Brian howled. “HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEE-HEE-HEE!!!"
"Oh, darling, does that TICKLE?" Adrienne laughed wickedly. She stroked again—and again—and AGAIN—!
The maddening sensation produced by this wickedly intimate caress forced shriek after ear-splitting shriek of laughter from Brian's raw throat. Each time Adrienne stroked, his exhausted body twisted and jerked spasmodically. Cold sweat trickled down his sides. Spittle flew from his wide-open mouth. Adrienne was driving him BUGFUCK—and there wasn't a damned thing he could DO about it!
When finally she stopped he simply hung there, gasping, wheezing and weeping, so utterly exhausted that he couldn't even beg for mercy.
Adrienne got up and moved around to face him. She lifted his chin and smiled into his tear-filled eyes. "Now, darling—tell me again. Tell me about Peggy and Kim."
And he did. He told her that they were a couple of cheap tramps, sluts, bitches, cunts—he told her that he'd hated and despised them—he told her that the thought of them simply made him want to PUKE—!
"Enough" Adrienne let his head drop. "Well, Brian, that was more like it. I believe you. And I promise not to tickle you any more."
"Oh, thank you!" he sobbed. "Thank you, Adrienne, thank you, THANK you—!"
"There's just one thing, darling," she said.
Brian raised his head.
"I haven't introduced our guests." Adrienne smiled.
"What—?" Brian trembled. "Who—?"
"Well, really, Brian." She laughed. "You don't suppose I got your drugged body down here all by myself, do you?"
"Oh Jesus!" Brian wailed.
"They've been listening to your confession, Brian. And now I think THEY’D like to spend some time with you." Adrienne turned. "Ladies?"
Two figures emerged from the shadows at the far end of the basement. Brian recognized them. . .and cringed.
"Peggy, Kim, he's all yours." Adrienne giggled. "But if you don't mind, I think I'd like to stay—and watch."
I too look forward to more
