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Curtain Call

MaxSpeer

1st Level Red Feather
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Apr 18, 2001
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Curtain Call
by Max Speer
 
"Are we not human? If you prick us do..do we n-not cry?"
The young actress choked the words at me. A look of terror in her eyes.
"Go on," I said, always the director; always encouraging my actors to be
their very best.
"If you..."
"Go on!"
"If you t-tickle us d-do we n-not laugh?"
"Well, Melissa," I said walking towards the bound actress. "I don't know.
If I tickle you, will you laugh?"
"Please, Mr. Speer," the terrified girl choked. "Please untie me."
I stood there for a while and thought. A good director always measures
his words before answering any questions or requests. It shows
intelligence.
Melissa was really in no position to bargain. I had been watching her
acting ever since her audition. She gave the most wonderful reading,
standing there in her tight shorts and sleeveless/midriff top, tied in a
little bow under her breasts, revealing the soft ridges of her ribcage and
the smooth softness of her underarms every time she lifted her arms to
punctuate a comment.
So perky, I thought.
She recited Shakespeare in the chair, legs crossed; her red sandal
dangling from her painted toenails.
I cast her all right!
"Say it again!"
"Am I not human...?"
"Not THAT line. The last line!"
"Please, Mr..."
"SAY IT!!!"
"If you t-tickle...us..do we not laugh?"
Melissa was standing on the stage. Her arms were stretched up at high
angles from her body and her wrists were tied with strips of material and
secured to the overhead 'fly'. I must admit that she looked quite
fetching, stretched like that. Her ribs were protruding and her underarms
were completely exposed. Pity. Ha! I made a pun! Get it? Pit-tee!!!
She was standing practically on her toes though her sandals stayed firmly
on the ground. This lifted her heels up and revealed two pink soles.
I walked to her.
"What's your secret?" I asked quietly.
Melissa looked as if she was about to jump out of her skin. "What's
wh-what secret?"
"How do you girls get your underarms so smooth? Shave? Wax?
Electr...electrolytes?"
The poor actress looked as if she was about to fall to pieces. She began to
weep.
"Sh-shave..." she said, sobbing slightly.
"You...you mind if I touch them?"
Melissa was quite beautiful. Probably, one of the most beautiful girls I
had ever seen. Her red hair was very long and curled. Her face had a
hint of freckles and was fair. But those blue eyes shone like crystals
filled with water.
"Say the line again."
Melissa sobbed.
"Say it!!!" I shouted, then much more quietly, "Say it, dear. Say it like
you mean it."
"If you t-t-tickle us, do...we..not....do w-we not...l-laugh?"
"I don't know," I said (playing the part). "Let me try."
I reached up with my one hand and spread my fingers out like a fan. Then
I touched the area of her arm right above her underarm and slid them down.
Melissa screamed. I didn't expect that. I took both hands and, using all
my fingers, placed them into the extremely soft hollows of her armpits and
began to tickle slowly; watching her reactions. A good actress will act
spontaneously.
Well, I can say she passed with flying colors. Melissa began to squeal
with laughter the moment I began tickling her. She shook her body and
tried to turn out of the way but, of course, that was impossible the way I
tied her.
I liked her shirt. It was crisp & clean, white cotton. The armholes were
cut deep so a lot of bare skin was revealed. I wondered if she imagined I
would use those armholes to take advantage of the warm, ticklish skin it
exposed. Oh those women. They just don't know what we men have in mind
sometimes when they get dressed in the morning; walking around in their
'smart' sleeveless shift dresses. I'd love to tickle them all until they
recited Tennessee Williams.
She pleaded and begged through her laughter and screamed and had the most
delightful laugh. It was absolutely musical. It was like an extended
giggle.
"P-leeee hee hee hee hee eese!! Don't tickllllll mee hee hee hee!!!!!"
"If we tickle you, do you not laugh?" I asked as my fingers galloped on
her soft skin, up and down her sensitive arms and back into the smooth
areas of her armpits. I must admit (although it might sound a bit
unprofessional) that I was actually getting an erection just tickling this
gorgeous and extremely ticklish girl. Please don't think badly of me. I
wouldn't tell just anyone, but seeing this gorgeous red-head with eyes
that could kill and a body to die for, writhing and shaking, laughing,
giggling, and pleading with me really got my creative juices flowing, if
you know what I mean.
"Does this tickle tickle tickle, Melissa?"
"Yeeeee hee hee hee essssss!!!!!!!!!!!!!" was all she could say since she
seemed to be very busy laughing and trying to twist out of the way of my
fingers.
"PLeeeez hee hee hee hee hee Mr. Speeeeeeeeeerrrr!!! Hee hee hee hee I
c-can't take thissssssssss hee hee hee hee hee hee!!!!!"
Reluctantly, I stopped and Melissa was out of breath. I thought I heard a
doorbell, but it was only the batton rattling.
"Are all actresses as ticklish as you?" I said as I trailed a single
finger up and down her arm, exploring the cute crease beneath her elbow
crook.
"Please, Mr. Speer. I don't want this part. I quit. Oohh Stop that!
Please don't tickle me anymore."
"There's that word again," I said. I just couldn't help it, but every time I
heard Melissa say 'tickle' I wanted to tickle her.
"Call me Mr. Pavlov."
"What?" she said.
This time I laid my fingers on her ribcage and felt her breathing. It was
quite exciting, feeling her thin frame beneath my fingers. I felt like a
god who could control this frail girl so easily just by a slight pressure
on my fingers.
"You have a marvelous body, my dear. Do you work out?"
But before sweet Melissa could answer, I pressed my fingertips on the
ridges of her ribs and began alterative pressures with each finger like I
was playing an accordion.
Well, that poor child squealed and screamed and bobbed up and down,
bouncing her long red hair. She reminded me of a cheerleader, bobbing
like that. Only Melissa was not cheering.
"Eeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!! Hee hee hee hee no no no noooooo don't tickle me
don't tickle meeee hee hee hee hee no no no stoppp heee hee!!!!!
I never heard her talk so fast and so furiously. This was one, talented
actress.
"Oh Sol La Mio!" I sang as I played her accordion ribs, grabbing and
pulling, tickling up and down the keyboard or her ribcage, feeling that
soft, girlish skin.
Poor Melissa squealed in laughter, twisting and trying to buck my fingers
off. I held on to the bucking bronco of this ticklish body and sang at
the top of my lungs.
The poor red-haired actress was beside herself now (which, if this was
true, I would have tickled them both). She laughed so hard that her voice
began to crack. It sounded sexy, hearing her sweet voice, all cracked
like that. I thought of Hermoine Ginghold, the famous British actress
reciting from Shaw.
"AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH ha ha ha ha ha ha heeeee hee hee hee hee no no no no no
nooooooooo !!!!!!!!!"
I tickled her cute belly and felt her little belly button. Her eyes were
wide and her mouth was locked open as I tickled and tickled that soft
skin. Her voice was a song of laughter. She was singing the aria from
Madame Butterfly. That was it. I hadn't realized it until now. She was
a great bird, a Diva.
"I'm BEGGING you!!!!! No no no noooooo ho hoo hoo hee hee hee!!!"
I stopped and Melissa hung there, catching her breath.
"I'm sorry," I whispered.
She looked up at me, slowly, like a little girl seeing Santa for the first
time."
"I'm sorry," I repeated. "I hadn't realized. You're a singer, not an
actor."
Melissa began to sob.
I ran to my office and threw all my music books on the floor. I scrambled
for the right song.
There it was! I ran back to her.
"What are you doing?" I asked as I saw her trying to twist her wrists out
of the bonds I made just for her.
"N-nothing," she said quietly. Please, Mr. Speer. I beg of you. Untie
me. I won't tell anybody. I promise."
"Melissa, " I said in a sing-song manner. "I have just the song for you.
Sing it."
I held the music up in front of her face.
"I can't read it."
"Sing it!!!"
"Muskrat muskrat, candle light..."
"The last line!" I demanded.
She read it first then began to sob.
"Read it!"
"Mr. Sp..."
"Read it!!!!"
"....now he's t-tickling her fancy, rubbing her toes...."
I quickly pulled down the music.
"See what it's telling us?" I was ecstatic. "We were all wrong."
I ran to the wings of the stage and pulled a table over to my diva. She
didn't know what was going on as I lifted her by the knees and pushed the
table under her shapely butt.
"Thank goodness," she sighed.
"Thank goodness, indeed," I said as I quickly tied her ankles together
which stuck out in front and practically rubbed against my crotch.
Melissa tried to pull her feet away but I managed to tie it down to the
front legs of the table. No, she wasn't going anywhere.
"Now he's tickling her fancy..." I paused. "Rubbing her toes...". I was
elated. I had direction. I carefully removed her sandals. Her toenails
were painted pink.
"Please, I can't take this anymore," she began to plead. "I'll do
ANYTHING. Just no more tickling."
There was that word again.
I pulled up a chair as if I was setting down for a long, pleasant feast.
Her soles were at face level now and I could see all the little creases.
"Do you have them professionally pedicured?" I said with real concern.
Melissa didn't answer right away. I asked it again.
"No," she said quietly. "This time I did."
"Why this time?" I asked.
"I...I wanted..." she began to sob again. "I wanted to impress you."
"Oh now now now now now now now," I said reassuringly. "You did. You
really did, my girl."
I leaned forward and, without warning, I began to lick her soft, pink
soles.
Melissa jerked her feet spasmodically and tried to stifle a giggle; but as
I licked, the giggle began to leak out like a small leak in a very
...very...big...dam.
"Damn!!!!!!!! Ah ha ha ha ha ha hee hee hee!!!!!! " she laughed as the
wave of laughter took some control and her willpower lost some.
Her feet glistened and I detected a faint smell of rose.
"Rose oil? Melissa? I'm impressed!"
I took both hands and began to scratch lightly the wrinkled surface of her
smooth soles. The wrinkles grew deeper as she tried to bend her toes
down. And that giggling began again. It was heaven!
Melissa was singing in great form now. I had tapped into the source of
her talent. She sang and squealed and when she begged me to please stop
tickling her feet or else she'd die I was reminded of a, one, Lilly Pons;
who sang into the hearts of men and women.
I tickled my way up the soft soles to a particularly sensitive spot just
below her long, thin toes. There, I concentrated a tickling in whispy
gallops, like I did on her underarms.
"Aaaaachhhh!!!!!!!!!!!! HEE HEE HEE HEE HAA HA HA HA HA NO NO NO STAH HA
HA HA HA HOP!!!!! P-LEEEEEZZZ!!!!!!!! HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE!!!!
I tickled on the tops of her feet and watched them whip around and thrust
to and fro. I tickled her ankles and down to her heels. They were soft.
Undoubtedly, she had the pumiced, and I began to think again about how
women dress and care for themselves, not realizing that with every rub of
a pumice stone, every brush of her toenail polish, every stroke of a razor
removing her hair, we are waiting for a chance to tickle the pampered
skin.
The thought began to elevate my spirit to levels far beyond any I had ever
reached before.
As I tickled her soft, pink soles and heard that girlish giggle emerge
from her woman's body, I began to feel my role in the Universe. I felt
like a god!
Damn, I'm a good director.
"Please.......You're killingggg meeee hee hee hee hee!!!!!"
"Tickle tickle tickle tickle"
I could be another Olivier!
Melissa's soft, shapely body jerked as I tickled her extremely ticklish
feet. Her arms were still pinned high over her head and I could still see
the ticklish areas that I attended to before: her underarms, her ribs,
waist and belly.
The audience screamed for more as sensation built inside of me. I felt
like I was soaring.
The stage was filled all my heros from the stage; all were tickling
Melissa. Cagney tickled her waist. Hepburn tickled her underarms and
giggled because she was ticklish there too. The Marx Brothers helped me
tickle her feet.
The audience began to scream. Melissa screamed.
Finally, I screamed.
Thunderous applause filled my ears.
Blackout.
 
 
 
 
This is one of my all time favorite stories. I thought I would post this to bring it to the front of the line so that those who haven't read it can do so and those who have can revisit it.

Hppy reading.

Max
 
A very good, intelligent story. Although it's "O Sole Mio" :p

Thank you Max :)
 
Thanks for bringing this back, Max. I love the style, so off-beat and untrodden. I always like putting some self-depricating (implicating?) humor into my stories...wonder where I got that from? :rolleyes:
 
Thanks guys. It's one of my favorite stories, along with Father Fred.

I guess Polarbaer found it hidden deep within the bowels of this Story Archive. Maybe I should do some Spring Cleaning?

Dave, congrats on your Story Archive and your award. You certainly deserve it.

Max :firedevil
 
OMG! I've never read anything like that! That made me hot!

That is the best review I have ever received. If I ever publish my works I definitely need to put that on the book jacket :firedevil

I invite you to read the rest of my stories, archived here on backpages and continue your heat.

Max
 
love the reference of reciting tennessee williams.. if she had screamed out i always rely on the kindness of strangers, would that have helped? and the humour pity=pit-tee terrific. and when you said sweet melissa, it reminded me of that song "sweet melissa" and just like the final act in a play, it faded to black.....

isabeau
 
Nice pun. yea, I would not be a good candidate because I'm no good as an actor or a singer lol.
 
I suppose it's an all-girl, mud-wrestling, lesbian cast of Merchant of Venice. Couldn't you figure that out?

:bubble2:
 
Haven't been here in a while and was actually looking for this story. It's a personally favorite so I'm bumping it up for anyone who wasn't around back in the early 2000s to read it. Have fun.
 
:shock2: You’re alive!!!

Thank you for paying this to the front. Not really having any previous context (if there even is any earlier context surrounding this story) it really seems like this girl tried to impress the wrong ‘director.’ ;)
Very nice take, thank you for sharing it with all us fellow pervs here! :D
 
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