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Results 1 to 9 of 9
  1. #1
    Join Date
    Oct 2001
    GA, USA

    A Philosophic Ticke, Secunda Pars (m/f, f/f, student/teacher)

    Howdy, all. You can find the original story featuring Nikki and Dr. Smith here, and this episode will make more sense as a follow-up to the original:


    Since that's been one of my best-received stories, I decided to put my chips back on the table and bring Smith and Nikki back. Let me know how it goes, eh? I love feedback!

    A Philosophic Tickle

    Secunda Pars


    Kid Indy

    He decided not to show up that Saturday night.

    Dr. Smith, after all, had not gotten where he was in the academy, even in the small Christian college where he taught, by being a fool. He had skirted his own professional demise and played his cards so well that it resulted in a night that he would not soon forget, an evening that saw one of his longstanding dreams at his fingertips. And a plastic comb. And an electric toothbrush. And (he didn't expect this of himself, but he couldn't deny that it had happened) his tongue. But that night was over. Nikki Dyer, who had planned to blackmail him into taking her virginity, was still a virgin, even though Smith had enjoyed her body, her writhing, her laughter and squeals and screams, for two and a half glorious hours. The twenty-year-old beauty had left that night unsatisfied, the sexual tension having filled her up from the outside in, her soles and underarms touched and teased until the sensations gushed out of her, yet never "having" her professor in the way that she had desired. Instead, she was left to her own devices, and the professor to his memories, as the night ended and the two returned to finals week and the end of a semester. Now, with Nikki away for the summer, Dr. Smith enjoyed the days as best he knew, maintaining his small house and reading books on the front porch. Excitement and danger and incredible pleasure he could remember, but those things were mercifully far from the professor for the slow summer.

    Until her car rolled up.

    Dr. Smith glanced up from his Schopenhauer, then back to the paragraph he was reading, then up again to make sure: yes, it was Nikki Dyer, in all of her glory, wearing shorts that couldn't possibly pass muster with the school's conservative dress code. He couldn't help but watch the legs come out of the car, then up his front walk, towards his small front porch. He regretted looking at her feet, flip-flopping as they were, before putting his book down and standing up. Now he could scarcely look away from those toes approaching, their nails a bright and childish green, her ankles' flex in each step...

    "Dr. Smith, I'm in trouble!"

    He came to, shaking his head and looking into Nikki's eyes. "What do you mean, trouble?"

    "She knows! She knows!"

    Smith scanned the immediate neighborhood and spoke quietly even after he discerned nobody within earshot. "Slow down, now. What are you talking about?"

    "Rachel! Rachel Williams! She knows about what we did! She's going to get me kicked out of school, and she wants to get you fired!"

    Smith's eyes narrowed. Rachel Williams, a rising junior like Nikki Dyer, was the sort of trouble that Christian colleges always presented. A preacher's daughter, the slender redhead had all the confidence of someone who grew up the center of attention in her small town and all of the Machiavellian sense of power and strategy that someone learns from watching important people, even in small towns, maintain their importance. Her dark-eyed beauty and unmistakable silhouette, which she did not hesitate to highlight in her usual form-fitting clothes, also could not escape Smith's memory. Smith knew he was in no danger himself; with the written confession that Nikki had signed--persuaded by his tickling hands, of course--he was in no danger. But he genuinely regretted that Nikki's future was in jeopardy. But why was she telling him about it? "Nikki, you know I'm not going to get fired. So what do you want from me?"

    "She wants me to trap you. I told her you wouldn't meet me again, but she says she'll report me to the school if I don't!"

    "Trap me? What in the world are you talking about?"

    "She wants me to plant a video camera when we meet. She wants to be able to blackmail you with the video!"

    Where in the world did the college find these girls? Still, something seemed wrong. "Then what do you want me to do about it?"

    "We'll make the video, but when she meets me to get the file, you can get her!"

    "What do you mean, get her?"

    "Tickle her like you did me! Then she'll have to give up her plan!"

    "And why in the world do you think I'm going to agree to this?"

    Nikki lifted one knee slightly, began to pivot her toe nervously on the ground, bending his judgment with that extended calf whether she knew it or not. "I'll let you tickle me again?"

    At this, Smith opened the door. Casting his eyes around the neighborhood he whispered, "We can't talk about this where the neighbors can hear. Get inside."

    Days later (no, Smith did not tickle anyone that day), Smith approached a coffee shop in town, a big chain but not the biggest. A pair of long, light-skinned legs, crossed under a small table, greeted him as he walked in. He gestured to the chair, and a smile that not even cats show when they've eaten canaries was her response. He sat down.

    "Rachel, I don't know what you think is happening here, but I assure you, the stories you're planning to tell about Nikki aren't true."

    "Really? From what I hear, she confessed to it in writing. You've got a copy, don't you?"

    Smith's brow furrowed slightly, the new move having changed the game board. "Did Nikki tell you this, or are these just campus rumors?"

    She stared at him without flinching. "She tells me everything, Dr. Smith. Everything."

    "Nikki says that you're making these stories up entirely. Who's lying here?"

    Rachel suddenly dropped her smirk. "You know your problem, Dr. Smith? You want there to be truth when it's convenient but not when you're seducing beautiful people like Nikki!"

    Smith had heard this one before, and he knew he'd be living with it his whole career: the philosophy professor who doesn't believe in truth. But he had to keep focused here. "What do you want from her?"

    "I'm not going to stop until I've convinced her to go to the administration on you. I know you've got that paper, but I want to make sure you can never do this to someone like Nikki again!"

    "Even if it means destroying Nikki in the process?"

    Rachel scowled, which inspired Smith's suspicion. "I didn't destroy her. She's beautiful, and you destroyed her."

    Smith kept his face set so as not to give away the processes that were now running in his mind. "So there's nothing I can do to stop you from turning her in?"

    "Nothing." No, this was something. Smith's mental notebook was filling up.

    He put on his negotiating face again. "Then there's nothing to do. I insist that this never happened, and you yourself admit that taking this accusation to anyone at the college will likely ruin Nikki. I'll ask you to reconsider, but that's about all I can do." Smith stood up and turned away from the slender Machiavel, new plots hatching as he exited the coffeehouse.

    Late on a summer night, slender legs, capped with ankle socks and canvas shoes, crept through the gravel at the cheap motel in the middle of nowhere. Rachel's eyes cast this way and that, imagining what the first encounter between Nikki and Smith must have been like, what Nikki sounded like when somebody tickled her beyond what she could stop. Shuddering for a moment, she scanned again to make sure nobody saw her. Having parked half a mile away, at a convenience store, she hoped that she could plant the camera in her pocket, test it, and get out long before Nikkii and Smith headed back that way. She tapped her pocket to make sure that the camera was still in there, then one of her back pockets to check for the room key. Check and check. As she entered the dim circle of light that covered half of the parking lot, she looked both ways, seeing no cars in either direction. She ran across the parking lot, pulling the key out as she went.

    Fumbling with the lock, she made her way into the room and saw that there were two twin beds. Looking too long at one of them, she shook the picture out of her head and started looking for a place to plant the camera. The top of the TV looked most promising; next to the retrofitted satellite receiver on the big box, her small digital camera was almost undetectable, she told herself. Pulling out her phone, she started fingering the screen, trying to call up the app that would give her a video feed from the camera. The app started loading, the green bar positively crawling, when she heard a familiar voice:

    "Be sure to focus it too, Rachel."

    Rachel's jaw dropped as she turned and saw Nikki emerge from the bathroom. "What are you doing here?" But before the attractive brunette could respond, another form emerged, and Rachel's surprise turned into horror. "Dr. Smith!"

    "Yes, Rachel. It's time for class." Rachel's fear-quickened legs tried to move for the door, but Smith had heard her lock the door behind her and knew it was vain. Matching strides across the room behind her, Nikki and Smith quickly closed on her and grabbed her wrists, pulling her back from the door. Smith continued to pull her towards the bed farthest from the door as Nikki pulled short chains from under the mattress. Rachel could see the padded cuffs attached to each, and she pulled like mad to break Smith's grip. The much larger professor just smiled and fell with her, both of them landing on the bed. Nikki easily enough pulled one of her arms to meet a cuff, then fastened it. Smith, rolling away, did the same with the other arm, and although she kicked wildly, they secured both of her ankles within seconds.

    Smith paced triumphantly in front of her while Nikki smirked. "So, Rachel, were you digging for more evidence?" He picked up her smart phone off the floor and inspected a couple things. "No, you haven't managed to hit record, have you? I suppose this little camera" --he tapped the device that she had planted atop the TV--"isn't going to get you what you want here, is it?"

    "Look, I can pay you. Just let me go!"

    "So this is about money now? I thought this was some sort of moral crusade!" Smith had moved away from the TV and towards her legs. She pulled against the chains without any result. "I thought you were outraged at the idea of such... relations between professors and students!" He began to tug at one shoe, which popped off despite Rachel's struggles. "I thought you were going to bring the evil professor down! Now this is about money?"

    Rachel pulled again on the chains, but nothing was working. Her fiery green eyes turned to Nikki. "You told me we were going to trap him!"

    "And I told him we were going to trap you, Rachel. It's funny what we tell each other, isn't it?"

    Smith piped in. "Now, girls, I didn't come all the way out here just to hear people accuse each other. Nikki, I want you to tickle her."

    Nikki suddenly turned and stared. "No... I thought you were going to do that!"

    Smith chuckled. "In good time, my dear. But first, I want to see you work. You're all about pushing the limits. Now push hers."

    Nikki's eyes widened. "No, I don't think I'm going to do it right..."

    "You'll do fine. Now tickle tickle!"

    Nikki turned and faced Rachel, whose look of fear had degenerated into utter panic. "Nikki! Please! You can't do this!"

    "Nikki, you need something from her. Now go get it."

    "Rachel, all we need is--"

    "NO!" Nikki flinched as Smith raised his voice. "You show her what's in store first, then you make your offer!" Nikki gulped, then turned around. Reaching her hands down to each side of the slim redhead's torso, she grabbed at the cotton t-shirt and felt the electric surge of a ticklish body squirming underneath. Before she realized what was happening, Nikki had tasted and seen that this was good, and her claws quickly enough grabbed greedily at the tight, delicious, soft flesh underneath the shirt. Rachel bucked and squirmed, instantly squealing at the touches. Smith watched with a growing grin as he watched the two girls' interactions. Nikki had become the predator that he suspected lay beneath the victim's facade, and with every grope, every ticklish paw at the slender body tied to the bed, she wanted more. Rachel, on the other hand, was now showing every bit of the conflict that Smith had sensed in the coffee shop, and her doubts were quickly eroding as the girl she called "beautiful" explored her body's most sensitive spots. Nikki's attack began with clumsy groping, senior-prom stuff, but her fingers learned quickly enough the subtle pinches and raking motions that would send Rachel's behind bounding up off the mattress, and the redhead was only minutes in when her ability to protest gave way to inarticulate squeals punctuating a storm of forced laughter.

    "Get her armpits, Nikki! Don't neglect them!" Nikki needed no further command: her hands drifted up, and Rachel screamed as her hands pulled in vain against the restraints. Even with her t-shirt on, Rachel's body was ticklish in its own right and over-primed by the tension in the room. Her hips twisted this way, then that, but Nikki's fingers were mining for nerves and striking gold with every pass. Rachel howled, almost ecstatic, as Nikki tormented her underarms. Smith stood behind Nikki and walked up to put a hand on her shoulder. Nikki's face was horrified as his touch snapped her out of her greedy grabbing. As she turned, he held up a paper and a pen.

    "You need to get her signed confession."

    Rachel was in no shape to protest but managed to beg just a little: "No, please. I can't get kicked out of school!"

    Smith leaned in close to her face. "You should have thought of that before you started playing this game, Rachel. Now Nikki is going to work on those feet of yours until you agree to sign!"

    "Please, no! I'll sign it Just don't use it to kick me out of school, alright?"

    Smith smiled slightly. "Very well. I'm going to release one hand, and you're going to sign the paper. If you try anything foolish, we're both going to tickle your feet for a LONG time."

    "No, please! Just give me the pen!"

    Smith unfastened one cuff, glancing back at Nikki. The voluptuous temptress from a few minutes ago was now a guilt-ridden youth group girl, but that would change shortly. Smith watched with some satisfaction as Rachel, once thinking that she was holding all the cards, signed away her ability to make anything happen in the game. Now he had signed confessions from both girls; he was safe. He took the pen from her, set the clipboard and the pen down on the nightstand, and quickly moved to re-fasten the cuff.

    Rachel's eyes flew open. "WAIT! NO!! YOU CAN'T DO THIS!!"

    "Ah, Rachel, you just don't know how these games are played, do you?" He turned to Nikki. "You're just on the cusp, Nikki. Don't touch her feet, but you do need to show her what it's like to lose power in a game like this. Tickle her body!"

    "Dr. Smith, please..."

    "Do it, Nikki. You know you're right on the edge of a new consciousness. Now tickle her. Give her exactly what she wants!" Smith glanced at Rachel to see if indeed he had found another goldmine. Bingo.

    Nikki stepped forward, and the agony in her face quickly enough turned to appetite as her greedy fingers once again reached toward's Nikki's slim waist. As soon as her fingertips dug in, Smith could tell she was indeed a new person. Rachel's body, wound tight by the betrayal and anticipation, leapt up under Nikki's fingers, and the show was on. Each time Rachel's body bucked, Nikki's elbows flexed to follow here, and the twisting hips of the victim were matched by the rolling shoulders of the torturer. Smith eyed the scene greedily, watching Nikki's behind and Rachel's tormented face as the laughter poured out. Nikki's hands started to drift upwards until she had grabbed Rachel's ribs, and the first squeeze drew a scream, a sound that Nikki found irresistable: almost instantly the laugh gave way to a sustained "Aaaagh!", and within a few seconds of that, silence as Rachel's head thrashed back and forth, throwing her red hair this way and that. Not one to let a good spot go, Smith observed, Nikki alternated between fingertips and knuckles on the ribs, as Rachel, days before the woman in charge and making threats, melted away into a thrashing, gasping mess.

    More and more and more Nikki tickled the ribs, and Smith stood to walk behind Nikki. "Tickle the insides of her thighs," he whispered loudly. Nikki's hands stopped. Rachel continued to giggle as she gasped for air. "Reach down and send her over the edge!" With a smile, Nikki stepped backwards, bracing against Smith, and reached down.

    Rachel's fatigue could not mask the sheer panic that now overtook her. With nothing to trade or threaten, and now with Nikki's treacherous hands squeezing the flesh where her shorts ended, she screamed, eyes open wider than Smith or Nikki had ever seen, pulling at the restraints with all the strength she could muster, to no end. Nikki pinched and kneaded, following the movements of her legs as they kicked in vain to get free. So focused on Rachel's ticklish reactions, Nikki was utterly defenseless when her own body went into ticklish overload.

    Rachel looked up when the tickling suddenly stopped, only to see Nikki doubled over, Smith's hands around her waist. Her ears took a second to process her friend's shriek of sudden ticklish vulnerability, and her body's excitement before only swelled as she saw Nikki's face contort into the mask of ticklish ecstasy. Smith pulled as he tickled, flinging Nikki onto the other double bed, bearing down on her with one hand, tickling the screams out of her mouth, as his other hand pulled a padded cuff from behind the bed, already attached to the frame, and brought it up to her wrist. Both of his hands moved too quickly for Nikki to defend, and when the cuff was secure, he began to tickle under the restrained arm until Nikki was once again screaming. Nikki's belly, tan from afternoons at the pool that summer, was a banquet for Smith's fingers and Rachel's eyes: there was more to Nikki's midsection than to Rachel's, but in this moment, as she looked over, the connection between that flesh and the most luxurious dessert that Rachel could imagine was undeniable. Weakened once more by the sudden attack, Nikki's other arm succumbed to Smith's, and both arms were restrained. Now with time on his side, Smith made his way slowly to his bag of tickling tricks.

    Nikki, catching her breath, screamed, "What are you doing? When did you put these cuffs on this bed?"

    "When you were scoping the bathroom, kid. I never intended just to tickle one of you when I could have both!"

    Rachel's eyes once again took on a cast of fear. "You mean you're going to tickle me too?"

    "Of course I am. You girls thought you could get the drop on me with Nikki's hidden camera, but I knew you'd try to pull this on me." Now it was Nikki's turn to look panicked as Smith reached down to the hotel room's dresser and picked up a small plastic device. "No transmitter on this one, is there, Nikki? I suppose I'll be able to edit this just down to the girl-on-girl, then, when I have some time." He put the camera in his pocket and reached into his bag to produce two more restraints. "You really shouldn't play these games, Nikki. They're only going to get you into... uncomfortable situations." Nikki resigned herself to the new restraints, remembering well enough that Smith had the physical size to overwhelm her kicking. She stared at the ceiling and awaited what was coming. "And now that I've got documents from both of you admitting to offering me sex for grades, we have the evening ahead of us to have a little fun, no?"

    Rachel glared across at her brown-haired friend. "You mean you were planning on blackmailing him with a video of ME being tickled?"

    "I didn't think he'd fall for yours, Rachel! I'm sorry..."

    Smith chimed in. "Oh, I don't think you're sorry yet!" He turned his eyes towards Rachel. "Would you like to see where her spots are? I assure you, she's quite delicious when her ticklish spots go crazy on her." Rachel looked up at the ceiling and clenched her teeth. "Oh, Rachel. You play defiant now, but when this gets rolling, you won't be able to look away, I assure you!" He reached into his bag again, this time producing a pair of scissors.

    When he snipped them in the air, both girls looked up with a start. "What in the world? You can't--"

    "He's going to cut us! He's going to cut us!"

    Smith held up a single finger to his lips to signal that the girls should calm down. "I'm not going to cut what I'd rather touch. But there's more of you to touch with those summer clothes gone, no?" Walking over to Nikki, he grabbed her tank-top and began to snip down the center, from the neckline to the belly, as Rachel screamed at him in protest. After a few more deft cuts, the tank lay underneath her, exposing all but her bra on her upper body. "Oh, how I've missed this, Nikki! What do you think, Rachel?"

    Rachel's eyes were rapt on Nikki's heaving body. Nikki glared at Smith. "We were supposed to take you down together. You're not right, you know."

    "Oh, don't moralize at me. I saw you devour your friend there. In fact," he tapped his pocket, "I have video to prove it. When you get into these games, Nikki, sometimes you lose. Tonight, you lost. But we can still have some laughs about it, right?" He quickly and without effort removed her flip-flops and tossed them to the floor.

    "What do you want from me? You've already got our papers!"

    "What do I want you to give me? Nothing. You've already delivered my prize: your bodies, wrapped up like gifts for me. Now I'm going to give Rachel here the gift that she's been wanting for some time, I suspect. But first I'm going to have some fun!" With that he began tracing the sides of his first two fingers up and down Nikki's flank, exerting the slightest pressure on her skin as one would caress a lover's cheek. Nikki began to scowl, but when Smith turned his wrist and began began to pinch her hip with his knuckles, she yelped, then protested, but within a few squeezes started to giggle at the touches. She knew that he had her; his hands had taken her to the edge of release last time over and over, and this was how it started on every cycle. Nikki let herself go, knowing that her resistance could not possibly hold up. Smith grinned like a true devil as she began to twist under his hands. Nikki was lost in the tickling, but Smith glanced over his shoulder at Rachel periodically, watching as her confused body played out its struggles in her blue eyes. Smith knew that Rachel was going to be the dessert tonight, but that was not going to keep him from enjoying the main course, and his fingers worked on Nikki's hips, never having to do much more than push down her cotton shorts, for a span of time that satisfied him and took Nikki right to the edge of satisfaction and agony, that place where Smith so loved to take her. And as Smith tended to do, he let up as she threatened to go over that edge.

    She drew in deep breaths as the tickling stopped, then began begging, music to Smith's ears. "Please... just let me..."

    "I love that just tickling can take you that far." He turned to the redhead. "Did you hear that, Rachel? She wants me to touch her some more. What do you think?"

    Rachel, who had now been watching her friend tortured for close to fifteen minutes, could hardly speak. "Please, just let us go."

    "Where do you want me to tickle her next, Rachel?"

    Nikki managed to snap out of her reverie. "Don't you do this, Doctor Smith!"

    "Rachel! Where should I touch her next? If you don't pick, I'm coming over to your side of the room."

    Rachel's impulses, which Smith had been reading since the encounter began, now played out in a series of facial contortions. "No, please... I don't want to..."

    Smith straightened his legs and took a step towards Rachel's bed. "Very well, then. I want to play on those ribs anyway!"

    "THE PITS! Tickle her armpits!"

    Smith stopped and grinned. "Thank you, Rachel. Now next time I ask you something, answer me more quickly, or your own situation could worsen!" He turned back to Nikki, who was now furious at the manipulations that her professor was performing on her friend. "Armpits, she said. Good choice, no?" He knelt down by the bed and went to work, Nikki's screams at the first touches turned into a bouncing, bubbly laugh, and Smith alternately poked, pinched, and stroked her skin while Rachel looked on. She thrashed as the nerves under her arms begged for release from the touches, but her strength was no match for the bed frame or the restraints. She would break into a steady laugh, only to be roused into another shriek as Smith changed things up. Once again he split his enjoyment between the delicious, full body under his hands and watching the conflict and horror that played across Rachel's face as she tried not to want what she saw. When he finally let up on Nikki, she was once again gasping for air and on fire as the flesh her upper body called forth the rhythms of her lower. Her behind scooted back and forth on the bed in a vain attempt at relief. Smith once again took a step in Rachel's direction.

    "Now, Rachel, I want you to take this decision very seriously. I'm going to tickle somebody's feet now, and that's a kind of tickling, when you're tied down like this, that you won't be able to stand."

    Nikki tried in vain to protest. "Stop it, Dr. Smith!"

    "Nikki here has such sensitive soles that, if I work on them like I want to, she's very likely to want nothing more than my tongue between her legs, just to let her body go."

    Nikki's protests became stronger. "Stop it!"

    "If you choose for me to tickle her feet, this is going to be nothing short of torture for her. She's going to want me, you, anybody just to release her!"

    "You freak!"

    "But if you say you don't want her tortured, Rachel, I'm coming over there and tickling your feet. And I'm really, REALLY good at this. It'll be tickling like you've never experienced, never even imagined." Rachel's eyes grew once more. "When I get going on that soft skin under your toes, it's not going to stay with your feet. You're going to feel it in your ankles and knees and all the way up." Rachel began involuntarily to shake her head. "And if I find your magic spot--and I'll just bet you have a magic spot--it's going to set you on fire, Rachel. I don't care what you think your morals are. If I find your magic spot, you're going to start begging for a tongue, a finger, anything at all, just to finish. Do you understand me? If I start tickling your feet, I'm not going to stop with your toes. I'm going to take your mind and your spirit and everything you think is only yours, and you'll be begging me to take what's left!"

    Nikki, who had regained her breath during this speech, spoke to Rachel. "Rachel, don't play his game! He's trying to make you something you're not!"

    Smith looked Rachel straight in the eye. "Or I could be helping you discover who you really are. So what's it going to be, Nikki's feet or yours?"


    "Her feet. Tickle her feet!"

    "Good choice." Smith turned back to Nikki. "I think your friend here is enjoying watching this!"

    "Go to hell!"

    "You don't think we're there already?" Smith grabbed Nikki's big toe and pulled it back. Nikki took a deep breath, remembering the last time Smith had her feet at his disposal. Already weak and ticklish, Nikki screamed at first touch and never tried not to laugh as his fingertips began their scribbling work. He scratched at her sole with frenzied speed, and Nikki quickly enough felt the fire between her legs, burning just as hot as it did that first night that Smith taught her about her own body. She hated him and she wanted him, and she knew that he was loving both. Nikki felt his fingers depart, and after a deep breath she raised her head and saw that he had begun to rub his hands together. She knew that the baby oil was coming next, and she had nothing left in her personal reserves to put up any sort of fight. Vainly she tried to cross her legs, but the restraints held them. She moaned as Smith began to rub the oil onto her soles.

    And she could not even manage anger as he turned once more to Rachel. "Do you see what you've chosen to give her? When the oil treatment starts, you're going to see just who Nikki is inside. It's a lovely look at things!" Nikki just moaned, knowing what was next.

    Rachel managed to cry out, "Please, Dr. Smith! Don't do this to her!"

    "No, Rachel, you've made your choice. Now watch your choice play out!" Smith grabbed Nikki's left ankle and began to work a fingertip around in the oil, just in the center-line of her sole, up and down between the middle of the soft flesh and the ball of her foot. Now the noises coming out of the brunette were nothing short of torment: every stroke made her moan loudly, and she only managed to squeal between trips up and down. Her hips spasmodically thumped the mattress as his finger pulled the marionette strings from her sole to her body, and every breath was vocalized in an obscene prayer to whatever devil had its grip on her. Rachel's hips began to move in sympathetic agony on the other bed, and Smith worked the spot for a span of time that escaped everyone in the room. Nikki's panties had changed color already, some time ago, when Smith finally relaxed his grip on her ankle. He left her writhing, panting, straining not to escape the chains but to touch herself, to open the gate and let the energy out of her.

    Smith turned to Rachel, who had become even paler than her natural hue. "What, dear Rachel? Do you envy Leah over there?" Rachel's eyes added confusion to their torment. "That's some Bible humor, dear. Probably not the moment for that." He took a casual stride towards Rachel's feet. "Now do you think it might be your turn?"

    Rachel's head shook violently. "No, please! I'll do anything!"

    "I know you will, Rachel, but now is not the time for you to do something. Now is the time for you to learn something about yourself. Shall we start learning?"


    Smith snatched the scissors off of the nightstand and gathered up the front of Rachel's tank-top in his fist. With a few swift strokes, the tailor's shears sliced through the cotton, leaving Rachel's body as bare as Nikki's. Nikki's chest continued to heave on the other bed. "Nikki, are you still with us over there?"

    A timid voice answered, "Yes."

    Smith once again set the scissors down. "Where should I start tickling Rachel?"


    "Ah, Nikki, you know you want to. Where should I tickle her?" He leaned out and reached as far as he could so that he could flick a fingertip along Nikki's sole. She gasped. "Where should I tickle her?"

    "Get her hips. She goes crazy when you tickle her hips."

    "Good idea! See, Rachel? She already knows your body! Now I'm going to get to know it." He reached down with hands much bigger than Nikki's, and Rachel soon succumbed to the rapid squeezing that she could not stop. Her inability to swat him away, she realized, was making all of this much worse than she had ever imagined. Now she was once again bucking and screaming, then laughing, as his hands carried out Nikki's preference. Nikki, slowly regaining her presence of mind, watched with fascination as the hands that knew her body so well turned Rachel, once so powerful and once in control of the situation, into a long, slender, ticklish nerve. Her red hair thrashed as her hips betrayed her, and Nikki's own body started to move in ways that she didn't expect. She wanted to look away. She could not look away.

    Smith released her hips and took a large step towards her feet. "Now, Rachel, what you dreaded so much that you wanted me to touch Nikki. You knew this was coming. Now you need to recognize this is here." Rachel, still recovering her breath, let her expressive face do the begging that she could not speak. "I'm going to tickle your feet now, and the only way I'll even consider stopping is if you tell our friend Nikki here why you really brought us all to this place."


    "It's no secret to me, Rachel. I see you looking. You've got nothing left to hide now. You're going to say it. But first I'm going to show you why!" With a swift motion Smith captured Rachel's slender ankle and pulled the small bottle of baby oil out of his pocket. With a flick of his thumb, the cap popped open, and Smith laid down a path from the heel on up to the ball of the foot. He closed the bottle with the same minimal motion, set it down on the bed, and began to rub the oil in. "The sooner you tell the truth, Rachel, the less reason I'll have to tickle the truth out of you." But before Rachel had a chance to confess her way out, Smith's slippery fingertips were doing their job. Rachel's sole flexed in the vain attempt to stave off the touches, but the oil made them too fast and too fluid, and Rachel's screams told him that the sensory overload, the titillation unto madness, was indeed something that she had never before experienced. Her hips and shoulders whipped back and forth as her squeals grew in urgency and her laughter turned to gasps. Nikki, who had now watched for several minutes, could not help but marvel at her friend's energy as her thin body responded to the touches. Remembering how that flesh felt when her own fingers were on it, she began to suffer from a different sensation, one that wanted free not to escape but to consume.

    Rachel, in the meantime, was frantic. Smith had oiled down her other sole as Nikki looked on, and the beautiful redhead was in places sensually that she had not ever even imagined. Her limbs pulled with what strength they had left on the restraints, but the exertion was for nothing, and still the devil's fingers were tormenting her sinner's sole. When Smith turned loose and rose to his full height, she looked on him, knowing that the human form before her was actually pure power, and she knew that there really was no hiding from him. With teh first breath she could draw without gasping, she shouted feebly, "Nikki! I want Nikki!"

    "Do you want to tickle her?"


    "Do you want to make love to her?"


    "Do you want her to release you from the feelings you're feeling right now?"


    "Good. You two can keep the restraints; I think I've gotten my money out of them. There's a plastic bag with T-shirts in the bathroom." With that, Smith reached up and unfastened one of Rachel's cuffs. "I'm going home now. When you do unfasten the other restraints, Rachel, do remember that Nikki's still tied up."

    Not speaking another word, Smith picked up his bag of tickling toys, walked to the door, and left, shutting it behind him.

    Nikki cried out, "Thank God! Rachel, untie yourself so that we can get out of here!"

    Rachel silently and slowly reached her free hand across her own body to unfasten the restraint. Able to sit up now, she also undid the restraints on her ankles. She stood up on still-shaky legs and took a step towards Nikki's bed. "I can't believe you sold me out to him."

    "Rachel, please just untie me. I had no idea he would take away the camera! I just wanted to make sure we had some material!"

    Rachel's eyes never moved from Nikki's. "Now you know my little secret."

    "I won't tell anyone! Just let me go!"

    With all the ferocity that Smith had stirred up, Rachel bent down and kissed Nikki. Nikki, whose guilt and fear and desire were already playing havoc with every part of her, kissed back. When they released, both panted and looked at each other.

    "Please, Rachel, let me go!"

    "I saw some amazing things when Dr. Smith tickled your feet, Nikki."

    "No, please! I'm all messed up right now! I can't stand being tickled again!"

    "I know, Nikki. And that's why I just have to."

    She stepped towards the foot of the bed, her fingers already wiggling as if to torture a ticklish sole.

    Rachel and Nikki did not talk for a few days afterwards. Both knew that what had happened could never be useful to them as they hoped, and neither wanted to face what had happened when their plot fell apart. So they went back to what they knew best, tanning at the beach for Nikki and working out for Rachel, neither calling the other but both unable to forget. When Rachel received the cryptic email on her phone, though, she knew she had to follow its instructions. She walked up to the apartment feeling the worst sorts of anticipation, knocked on the door, waited. Nikki answered.

    "What do you want?"

    "Didn't you get the email?"

    "What email?"

    "Go check."

    Nikki looked impatient. "Wait here." Leaving the door cracked, she went back to her own tablet. Rachel watched the lovely Nikki's body language go from irritation to apprehension to shock. Against Nikki's orders, she pushed the door open and walked quickly to see what was on the screen. At the top read the same anonymous email address that had told her to go to Nikki's apartment. On the screen was a scene that neither woman could forget: A kiss, then ticklish torment. The two watched in resignation as Rachel-from-the-past untied her lover and the two fell into a passionate embrace, living out their discovery of each other, apparently in front of a hidden camera.

    "He planted another camera for us."

    "He knew. He just knew."

    "He is Dr. Smith, Rachel. He knows enough to be dangerous and then some." The scene continued as minutes stretched by. The two watched their own bodies continue to tickle, to love, to give themselves up. Without further words, the two sat close to one another to watch, knowing that they couldn't ever threaten Smith again. Nikki put her arm around Rachel's slender waist. "Well, what can you do?"

    As the girls fell to an afternoon's delight, another email appeared, unread, from the same anonymous address: "Enjoy, ladies. And I know you're not going to try something like this again."
    Otium sine litteris mors est.

    Available for story requests and commissions--send me a PM, and let's talk!

  2. #2
    Join Date
    Mar 2010
    Somewhere Distant Solitary Country
    great story ... i hope i can request a story from you hehehehehehehheh just the simple one

  3. #3
    My favourites: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, & 8.

  4. #4
    Join Date
    Jul 2008
    this is so good!

  5. #5
    Join Date
    Oct 2001
    GA, USA
    putri@nila: Shoot me a private message, and I'll see what I can do.

    tiffanyy: I'm glad I could serve. If you don't mind, let me know whether the characters carried over well--I'm always worried about that.

    love feet: Thank you!
    Otium sine litteris mors est.

    Available for story requests and commissions--send me a PM, and let's talk!

  6. #6
    I can't stop rereading it & I've definitely added the link to my signature. I think the characters carried over just fine. I know that too many additions & sequels to stories can cause them to deteriorate, but I'd probably continue to read with 100% enjoyment if there were 500 sequels to this.

    Amazing job.
    My favourites: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, & 8.

  7. #7
    Join Date
    Oct 2001
    GA, USA
    Many thanks, tiffanyy. Responses like this make me want to keep writing.

    I don't have any immediate plans for another Smith sequel, but who knows, right?
    Otium sine litteris mors est.

    Available for story requests and commissions--send me a PM, and let's talk!

  8. #8
    Join Date
    Dec 2012
    Dr Smith is not man, he is dynamite.

  9. #9
    Join Date
    Oct 2001
    GA, USA
    Quote Originally Posted by cph4141 View Post
    Dr Smith is not man, he is dynamite.
    Ecce homo titillante!
    Otium sine litteris mors est.

    Available for story requests and commissions--send me a PM, and let's talk!

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