The Free Ride (F/m)

This is an F/m story, with intense domination in addition to FFFF/m tickling. It contains some adult material. If that is not to your taste, then don't read it. All of the characters in this story are over 18 years old.

The Free Ride (F/m)
by Milagros


Part One -- Wednesday, August 28, 2002
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Harold had been surprised when his former girlfriend, Kelly, offered him a free ride back to college. Both were 20 years old. Both were returning to Little Rock, Arkansas, to begin their junior year at Harding College. Both had spent the summer in Los Angeles, but for different reasons.

Harold had been happy to get a summer job in LA, just to get away from his parents. He lived with them in Little Rock, to save the room and board fees at college. It was a high-paying summer job with a software company. Even paying an outrageous (by his standards) $800 per month for a tiny apartment in Culver City, he had saved $2100 during the summer. Not having to spend any money to get home sounded very good to him. Kelly explained that she had an Exxon credit card that billed to her parents, so he didn't even have to share the cost of gas. And her Aunt Marilyn lived in New Mexico, near the half-way point of their trip, and would be glad to put them up overnight.

Kelly had gone to LA for the summer just because her family lived there, and the same job she had had for the two previous summers was waiting for her--lifeguard at a private golf club, which also had a large swimming pool. She and Harold had gone out for three months--October to December, 2001. They had remained on friendly terms after breaking up. Harold had seemed surprised when she called his cell phone, but had readily agreed to come along for a free ride to Little Rock.

Harold was ready, with his two suitcases and his backpack, on Sepulveda Boulevard when Kelly drove up at exactly 6am, as promised, on Wednesday morning. He dumped his bags into the back seat, and got into the right front seat. Just as Kelly expected, as he greeted her, his eyes turned down to look at her feet. He frowned, also as she had expected.

"I didn't want to tease you by wearing my sandals," she said, "and it's more comfortable to drive in sneakers, anyway."

"You know me too well," said Harold.

---------------------------------------------------

Six hours later, they stopped for a restroom break, and bought gas, ate the sandwiches that Kelly had brought along, and drank some bottled water. Harold offered the take over the driving.

"No offense, Harry," said Kelly, "but I'm the more skilled driver, and I've been making good time. Aunt Marilyn will have a nice dinner waiting for us, and I'll do the driving, just so that we get there on time--I know the way, once we get off I-40."

"OK," said Harold, "it's your car, and you're the boss on this trip. Is your aunt tall, like you?"

"Oh, Harry, you were always so sensitive, that I'm two inches taller than you. That's not why we broke up, and you know it. But to answer your question, yes, my Aunt Marilyn is 5'10", just the same as I am. And my cousins are even taller, but I'm not sure if you'll meet them."

After more than six hours of additional driving, and after another restroom and gas stop, at 6:30pm, they were 20 miles past Albuquerque, New Mexico. Kelly turned onto an exit ramp from Interstate 40.

"We'll be eating a fine dinner soon," she promised.

The exit took them onto a two-lane, numbered state road. Ten minutes and three turns later, they were on a one-lane unpaved road with no street name posted, heading further into the desert. They stayed on this road, with no houses in sight, for another 20 minutes. Finally, Kelly turned into a driveway, and Harold saw a huge, sprawling ranch house, set about 100 yards back from the road.

"Boy, your aunt really likes her privacy," said Harold.

"Yes, she and my late uncle always prized their privacy and self-sufficiency. The house has its own electric generator, and its own wells, although they had to dig deep to get to the water table here. I believe it belonged to his parents, but Marilyn and Uncle Jim enlarged it, and bought more of the surrounding land, to make sure that they wouldn't get any close neighbors."

As they got out of the car, the front door opened, and a woman as tall as Kelly, with the same blonde hair, came out to greet them. She appeared to be in her late 30's, and quite fit.

"Hello," she said, "and welcome. I'm Marilyn, Kelly's mother's sister. You must be Harold."

She extended her hand, which Harold shook. She had a very strong grip. She let his hand go, and hugged her niece. She led them into the house, and then down a hallway into the dining room. There she made more introductions.

"This is my older daughter, Edye, and my younger, Betty. And this is Kelly's friend from college, Harold."

Harold was struck dumb, for two reasons. First of all, he was looking at two Valkyries. Edye was about 6' tall, with fabulous legs, and lovely feet, which Harold could see, as she was wearing shorts and flip-flops. Her sister Betty was at least two inches taller yet, and even more beautiful. Also wearing shorts, and barefoot, her gorgeous legs and very lovely feet were on display, too.

The second reason that Harold was speechless was their ages--clearly in their mid-20's. After having his hand crushed twice, first by Edye's grip and then by Betty's, Harold did manage to say something to Marilyn.

"But you can't be their mother, you're too young!"

All four women laughed at his obvious flattery.

"That's very sweet of you, Harold," said Marilyn, "and flattery is always welcome. But I am, in fact, 45. I did marry Jim Pyne when I was quite young. Edye is 26, and Betty is 24. Please, everybody, sit down now. Dinner is all ready."

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After a hearty dinner, of roast beef, baked potato, and string beans, Marilyn brought out some ice cream. After giving everybody a scoop, she spoke to Kelly.

"You and Harold seem so friendly. But I understand that you used to be more than friends, last fall. And you seem like a nice couple. What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"

"We still like each other, and can be good friends," said Kelly, "but on an intimate level, we just weren't compatible."

Harold blushed, and hope that she would say no more. He kept quiet, knowing that telling her to be silent was the surest way to make Kelly talk. But she went on anyway.

"Harry is really into women's feet. I loved having him massage my feet, and when he kissed them, I felt silly, but I didn't mind it. But he always wanted to _lick_ my feet, especially the soles. Yuck! I just couldn't abide it."

Harold blushed even more, turning bright red.

"No need to be embarrassed, Harry," said Betty, "it's attention that I would welcome."

Her mother and sister turned to stare at her.

"Don't knock it if you haven't tried it," said Betty. "I always had George give my feet a _long_ tongue bath before I'd let him into bed with me. I loved it. But he didn't, and maybe that's one of the reasons he broke it off with me. I thought you were staring at my bare feet before, Harry. I sure gave you a free show. Do you have an older brother?" She smiled at him.

Harry, more relaxed again, was flattered that the stunning Betty was flirting with him.

"No, Betty, I'm an only child. But that George was one big idiot, in my opinion."

"So that's why Harry broke up with you, because you wouldn't indulge him?" asked Edye.

"No, no," said Kelly. "In fact, when I was ready to dump him, he promised me never to slobber all over my feet again, to be content with just massaging them, and giving them dry kisses. So we stayed together an extra month. We broke up because _he_ wouldn't indulge _me_."

"Oh, my," said Edye, "and just what kink do you practice, little cousin?"

"Oh, nothing extraordinary. I just like to tickle."

"But you're not ticklish," said Betty. "We tried often enough when we were kids."

"That's right," said Kelly, "I'm not. But I said 'tickle,' not 'be tickled.' I just _love_ to tickle men. I just can't get enough of it. Not just for a few seconds, for 5 or 10 minutes, until they're laughing so hard that they can't breathe. Then I stop, and hug them, and, then, well, ..."

"We get the idea," said Betty, "no graphic details are necessary."

"And are you ticklish, Harry?" asked Marilyn, looking at him with sympathy.

"Oh God, yes," said Harry, "I'm extremely ticklish, just dreadfully ticklish. I shriek and howl when somebody pokes my ribs, and go absolutely nuts if they can get underneath my arms. I can't bear it, I just can't. I tried to endure it for Kelly's sake, but it was impossible. It's just torture for me. Torture on my ribs, and worse torture in my armpits. I just dread even the thought of being tickled."

"So your armpits are your most ticklish spot, Harry?" asked Edye.

Harry didn't answer, getting a little uneasy, but Kelly answered for him.

"Oh, no," said Kelly, "it's his feet. He never goes barefoot, not even indoors. He never wears sandals. He always wears slippers, just to walk in his own bedroom. Outdoors, he always wears socks with his shoes or sneakers. So his feet are very sensitive. He is _so_ ticklish on his soles, and his toes, I could hardly believe it, the first time that I got him there. That day, it was just after we made love. I sat on his shins, and he couldn't dislodge me. I pulled his toes back with one hand, and scraped his sole with the nails of the other. He was begging me to stop in ten seconds. In ten minutes, he was speechless, laughing so hard that tears ran down his cheeks, and gasping for air. I just switched feet, and got his other foot for ten minutes more, and then switched back. Poor Harry! I tickled him senseless--about 40 minutes, until he actually fainted. Poor, ticklish Harry. So very, very ticklish. I got him good and proper, that day."

By the time Kelly finished her story, the Pyne women were all looking at Harold with a gleam in their eyes. He was quite uneasy.

"Well, I can only say that I've been very happy since last December. In part because nobody has tickled me since then, and that's the way it will stay."

"Yes, Harry, I wish the best for you," said Kelly. "I hope that you find a woman who loves having her feet worshipped, but has no interest in tickling."

At that kind statement, Harold calmed down again, and said "I wish the best for you, Kelly. I hope that you find a guy that you like, who just loves to be tickled."

"Now I can see why you two are good friends, but only that," said Marilyn, finishing her ice cream.

"If you want to get an early start driving, you should probably turn in now," she added.

Harold was shown to a guest room, down a long hallway. Marilyn explained that it was the only guest room with its own bathroom, for his privacy. It was a large room, but with very little furniture. Just a narrow single bed, with a sturdy brass frame, and a small desk, with one chair, near the window, where an air-conditioner was already functioning. Nothing else, no dresser, not even a bedside table. It did have a door leading to a full bathroom. He put his clothes and wallet on the desk, and set his wristwatch alarm for 6am. He'd been told that breakfast would be ready at 6:30, and he wanted to shower first. He fell asleep by 11pm.

[to be continued in this thread]

Part Two

Part Two -- Thursday, August 29, 2002 -- Morning
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Harold's alarm woke him at 6am, and he clomped into the bathroom nude, but wearing his slippers. How well Kelly knew him, he thought, he never did walk barefoot. He urinated, showered, and used mouthwash. He came out of the bathroom, again in his slippers, wearing only a towel. He was stunned to see Marilyn, Edye, and Betty all waiting for him in the bedroom. They were all wearing blue jeans and T-shirts, and they were all barefoot.

"That's so you wouldn't hear us come in while you showered," said Betty, pointing to her bare feet. "But you're more than welcome to enjoy the sight." She smiled at him.

"You made a big mistake, Harry," said Marilyn. "You _never_ should have told us how very, very ticklish you are. You did go on and on about it."

She was also smiling, but Harold was trembling, clutching his towel around himself, afraid to speak or move, frozen.

"Yes," said Edye, "because all three of us are just like Kelly. We all just _love_ to tickle men."

As she spoke, her sister circled around Harold, who was still frozen in place, shivering, hands clenched on his towel.

"Not exactly like Kelly," said Betty, from behind him. "We don't hug them and make love to them afterward, no. We just tickle them even more."

"Enough talk. Get him!" said Marilyn.

At that, Betty grabbed both of his wrists, pulled them up high over his head, and held them there firmly. This caused Harold to have to stand up on his toes, half out of his slippers. Also, it caused his towel to fall on the floor. Edye reached down and grabbed both of his ankles. She lifted them off of the ground with some force, and his slippers went flying. They carried him, stark naked, back to the bed.

Still scared speechless, and still trembling, Harold found himself flat on his back on the bed. Betty pushed his wrists through the vertical bars of the headboard, and then got up on the bed, pinning his arms under her knees. Edye push his ankles through the vertical bars of the footboard, and sat on his legs. Marilyn put some paper towels around his genitals, and then wrapped him with a towel, which she pinned in the manner of a diaper. It was humiliating, but not as bad as being naked in front of them all.

Marilyn then took some old stockings, and tied his wrists together, and also tied them to the horizontal bar of the headboard, below them. She did the same with his ankles and the horizontal bar of the footboard. She tied his thumbs together with twine, and used duct tape to wrap all four fingers on each hand into a single, useless unit.

Going back to the foot of the bed again, Marilyn carefully tied his big toes together, bent them back, and then tied them to his bound ankles. She then took some time, carefully tying his eight other toes back, one by one.

While she was tying his toes, Edye tied his knees together with some old pantyhose, and tied his bound knees to each side of the bed's frame with separate ropes. Betty tied his elbows to each other, forcing them to be about five inches apart, and then tied each elbow to its side of the bed's frame. His bondage complete, all three women stepped back from the bed. Harold's mouth was dry with fear, and he still trembled.

"Poor little Harry," said Marilyn, "you're too scared to even say 'boo', aren't you? That's good, because we don't want to hear from you. Not one word. I predict that, very soon, laughter will come from your mouth, lots of it. But, remember, you are forbidden to speak, and I mean that. Nod if you understand."

Harold nodded vigorously, while still trembling in his bonds.

"Oh, poor baby," said Betty, "don't be scared. Don't be scared of us. We're not going to hurt you, not one bit, not at all. I like you, and you're lucky that you flattered Mom, about how young she looks. We're all bigger and stronger than you, and you're totally defenseless, utterly helpless, but we won't hurt you, not one little bit. What we will do is amuse ourselves, by seeing _just_ how ticklish you are. And _where_. And _which_ one of us is the best tickler."

Marilyn glanced at her watch. It was just 7am. She got up on the bed, straddling his thighs, and announced to him her intentions.

"I'll go first, age before beauty. Half an hour on your ribs."

She began by poking her thumbs into his lower ribs, and he shrieked, and jerked in his bonds. Then she dug in with all ten fingers, making her way up and down his rib cage. Within ten minutes, his face was red, and his laughter was beginning to weaken from lack of breath. At the 20 minute mark, he had ceased to pull on his bonds, and tears flowed down both of his cheeks. She continued relentlessly, never pausing, as he gasped for air and squirmed. She stopped after 30 minutes, and got off the bed.

"Let's give him five minutes to rest, and catch his breath. On a scale of 0 to 10, I'd say I produced a ticklish reaction of, oh, about 7. You're next, Edye. You can get into position now."

Edye climbed onto the bed, and put her fingers near Harold's ribs. No longer sobbing, he did begin to tremble again, in anticipation. He also kept taking deep breaths. When the five minutes had passed, Marilyn told Edye to start.

Edye decided to use the 'counting your ribs' technique, and spoke out loud as she tickled.

"One. That's your shortest rib, and I can see that it tickles you when I dig around it and pinch it. Two. I love the way you're laughing for me. Three. Now you're really screetching. How amusing. Four. Oh, my, that's your most ticklish rib yet. Five. Have you figured out that it's going to be a very long day for you? Six. And it's hardly begun, baby. Seven. How red your face is again. You can barely breathe."

Harold was indeed again gasping, and also began to cry. Edye had gotten to 12, back down to 1, and back up to 12 again when her mother called time.

"So sad that I have to stop now, baby, but it'lll be my turn again soon," she said, climbing down from the bed.

Harold lay there, panting, covered with drying sweat and tears. He sighed, and drank, as Marilyn held a straw from a bottle of water to his lips.

"We can't let you get dehydrated--you'll get plenty of fluids. I'll give you a 6 for that half hour, Edye. Not quite as good a reaction as I got. Your turn coming, Betty."

Betty straddled his thighs and got her hands near his ribs as Harold finished the bottle of water. At her mother's signal, she began. At first, she dug all of her fingers into his ribs, as had her mother, and Harold laughed and laughed, and tugged on his bonds. Then she tried something new--she dug her thumbs into the front of his ribs, on both sides, while her fingers curled around his flanks, and dug into the same ribs from the back. This produced an amazing reaction. He screetched, like nothing human, and bucked so hard that the bed shook, even under both their weights.

"Wow, Sis, you're really onto something great!" said Edye.

"Yes, we'll have to try that later," said Marilyn.

Betty just kept kneeding his ribs, front and back simultaneously, with her large hands. Harold was soon in a state of silent laughter. His mouth still made laughing motions, but he didn't have enough air to make an audible sound. He had no energy left to struggle, but was merely quivering in his bonds.

"I've got him in the jelly state," said Betty, "he's nothing but a ticklish lump of flesh, shaking helplessly under my fingers. How long did it take me, Mom?"

"19 minutes, 11 to go. Keep it up. Never show mercy."

"That's right," added Edye, "no mercy. Ticklish little baby boys deserve to be tickled forever."

After what seemed like forever to Harold, the 11 minutes were up, and Betty stopped at her mother's word.

"That was a 9, Betty. You're the clear winner of the rib contest, and we'll copy your technique to torment him in the future. Now it's my turn again, to have a go at his armpits."

Harold groaned, and Marilyn, now straddling his waist, admonished him.

"Watch it, Harry baby. You almost spoke. Don't you dare disobey me, if you know what's good for you. No talking, no groans, no hisses, no grunts. Silence or laughter, that's all you're allowed. Nod your head if you promise to be a good, obedient little baby boy."

Harold nodded, and then screamed with laughter as she poked her fingers into both of his armpits. Every few minutes, she alternated between poking and scratching, keeping him from getting used to either. At the 15 minute mark, he was in the jelly state again, only quivering in ticklish agony under her attentions. She kept him in that state until the half hour was up, never relenting.

As she climbed down from the bed, and announced that she was awarding herself a 9, Betty went over to Harold with another bottle of water and a straw. She had to wait a few minutes until he regained enough breath to drink, and it took longer than before, as he took small sips, breathing heavily in between.

"He's stalling," complained Edye, already in position, straddling his waist.

"No, he really is still out of breath. You'll get your full half hour, don't be so impatient," said Betty, brushing some of his sweat-soaked hair off of his forehead with her free hand, while keeping hold of the bottle. He did get about eight minutes' rest, instead of five, before Betty withdrew, and Marilyn told Edye to start.

Edye dug in with vigor, her strong fingers never resting, using the same poke-scratch-poke-scratch technique that her mother had, with equally good results. Edye also taunted him as she tickled.

"Tickle, tickle, tickle, little Harry-poo. All day long we'll tickle you. You're just a ticklish little baby boy, and you're going to get exactly what you deserve--tickled, and tickled, and tickled, and, as a surpise, tickled even more. No escape for you, Harry-poo. Just endless tickling."

When he was too weak to move and too much out of breath to laugh out loud, she changed her taunt.

"You're just a quivering lump of ticklish jello, baby, and you can't move, or make a sound, or do anything but suffer. You're so helpless, and so cute, and so ticklish, that I can't resist the urge to tickle you even more, you helpless baby."

When the half hour was done, she gave him one final taunt as she climbed off.

"That seemed like 30 seconds to me, I was having so much fun. But it probably seemed like 30 hours to you, you were suffering so much. Time is relative, just as Einstein said, and you're on the unlucky end of it, Harry-poo."

Marilyn gave Edye a 9 for her session on his armpits, and gave Harold some orange juice, before telling Betty to take her turn. Betty straddled his waist, smiled down at him, and began scratching furinously in both of his armpits. She alternated, scratch-poke-scratch-poke, and soon began to taunt him also, but in a different way than had her sister.

"Poor little Harry--so cute, so sweet, and so very, very ticklish. Part of me feels sorry for you, and I really do like you. But you deserve this, you really do. I mean at dinner last night, you were the smallest, weakest person in the room. And you _told_ us that you're dreadfully ticklish, and that you can't bear to be tickled. You _told_ us that, three strong women who love to tickle. What did you expect? Now you're really in for it, and we're going to get you good and proper. Much more than Kelly ever did. It's _just_ what you deserve!"

By the ten minute mark, she had him in the jelly state, and smiled with satisfaction that she had done it soonest of the three of them. She continued to taunt with some sympathy.

"I've got you inert, and in silent laughter already! Just a quaking blob of ticklish jelly, utterly helpless to my touch. Poor dear, poor little baby. I _do_ feel sorry for you, but not enough to stop. Oh, no, you richly deserve this, baby. You blabbed your weakness to us, and we intend to take full advantage. Tickle, tickle, tickle, my dear little Harry baby. Tickle, tickle, tickle."

At the 27 minute mark, he fainted, and was truly inert. Betty stopped tickling, but kept her fingers at his armpits, ready to resume if he awoke. He didn't, and Marilyn called time, and awarded Betty a perfect 10, as she got off the bed.

"That was epic, dear," said Marilyn, "and you win again, in the armpit category. We'll let him sleep for five more minutes, then rouse him."

It proved unnecessary, as Harold woke up on his own, and opened his eyes, before the five minutes passed. In his first waking moment, he tugged on his bonds, and looked confused.

"No, dear little one, it wasn't a dream," said Betty, coming over and kissing his forehead tenderly. "Poor, poor, baby, it's real, and now it's going to get worse, I'm afraid. Now we'll go after your feet. Your soft, sensitive, tender soles, totally immobilized, and totally vulnerable. Poor baby!"

Betty fed him more orange juice, as Marilyn brought the desk chair to a perfect spot beyond the footboard, and sat down in easy reach of his feet. She removed brushes of various textures, a fork, a knitting needle, a comb, some Q-tips, and a ballpoint pen from a shopping bag. She glanced at her watch, and began.

Ten minutes of experimenting, while Harold laughed uncontrollably, and struggled with all of his might, soon convinced her that no one implement was best. The ballpoint pen (dry of ink) produced the best reaction on his heel; a stiff scrubbing brush was most effective on the ball of his foot; a soft-bristle toothbrush worked best on the pads of his toes, causing him to howl; the Q-tips worked wonders between his toes; and the tines of the fork, when scraped on his arch, drove him absolutely mad.

"Get yourselves another fork, so you can use one in each hand, if you want to do better than me," said Marilyn to her daughters, in the way of free advice. She concentrated on using the implements at hand, and had Harold in the quivering jelly state by the 18 minute mark. He was unconscious in just five more minutes, drool from his mouth mixing with tears form his eyes. Unlike Betty, she kept tickling the unconscious body, to no effect, just in case he woke up. He did not, and the half hour expired.

"Well," she said, "a dilemma. I could lower all of our previous scores, but I've already written them down in ink. So I'll extend the scale instead. I deserve an 11."

Nobody objected to 11 on a scale of 0 to 10, least of all Harold, who was still unconscious. Edye left the room, and returned with three more forks, and three more soft-bristle toothbrushes.

"Going to hold two forks with your toes, Sis?" asked Betty.

"No, it's for later, when we gang-tickle him," was Edye's answer.

Harold, still not conscious, was spared hearing this statement. As Edye sat down and got ready to start, Marilyn poured water over Harold's face, and he woke up sputtering.

"Don't you sputter at me, young man," said Marilyn. "You've been asleep long enough, so wake up, and remember that you're not allowed to make any sound except laughter. Get started, Edye."

Edye began with two forks on his left arch, switching to his right arch after a few minutes. Harold went beserk, shaking the sturdy bed with his struggles. Edye, of course, began to taunt him.

"Such soft feet. Such tender soles. Such fun to tickle them, Harry baby. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Oh, does that tickle you? Does it? Kelly was right--your feet are your most vulnerable spot, very much so. And they've never been so helpless, have they? Tickle, tickle, tickle."

As she switched to toothbrushes, rubbed on the pads of his toes, she changed her words to suit.

"Such sensitive toes. So tender. So much fun to tickle. Tickle, tickle, tickle, Harry-poo. I'm not going to stop. Oh, no, no mercy for you, none at all. Tickle, tickle, tickle, forever, little baby boy."

Edye had him in silent laughter mode by the 18th minute, an he lost consciousness at 24 minutes into her session. She tried to wake him up by pinching his big toe, hard, but Marilyn objected.

"No, no pain. Only tickling. No pain is allowed, or you won't be allowed to participate."

"Sorry, Mom, it's just a shame that he escapes by passing out."

"For now, you want to make him pass out, to prove what a good tickler you are. You just earned an 11 for this session. Later, we'll concentrate on giving him _just_ enough rest to keep him awake, and in ticklish agony, all of the time."

Edye got off of the chair when her half hour expired, and they let Harold rest another five minutes, before pouring cold water into his face. Betty was in the chair, and ready, when her mother bade her to start. She decided to stick with just the forks, and to try to overload his most sensitive area, his arches. She scraped both forks on his left arch, and then his right, and then his left again, switching at irregular intervals. This proved very effective, and his howling laughter quickly became very weak, and then silent. Only ten minutes into her session, already in the jelly state, he twitched, in misery, as she taunted him.

"Poor little ticklish baby, I _do_ feel sorry for you now. It was Kelly, not you, who told us that your feet were your most ticklish spot. How awful of her to do that, how disloyal! But she did it, and now _you_ have to suffer the consequences. Poor baby! Tickle, tickle, tickle. Your arches have turned pink, rosy pink, where I'm scraping. Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle. I feel sorry for you, Harry dear, but I just _can't_ stop tickling you. Tickle, tickle, tickle. It's so much fun, that I just can't stop."

He fainted dead away at the 20 minute mark, and Betty sighed. She waited patiently, forks held motionless against his left arch, for him to wake up, but he remained unconscious for the last ten minutes.

"The half hour is up," said Marilyn, "and you score a 12. Champion tickler in each of the three areas, and, of course, overall champion as well. Congratulations, dear."

She and Edye both hugged and kissed Betty, and told her that she had won fair and square. As Harold slept, Marilyn went to fetch his lunch, and to see if Kelly had gotten back yet. It was just 12:20pm.

[to be continued in this thread]

Part Three

Part Three -- Thursday, August 29, 2002 -- Afternoon
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Betty put an extra pillow under Harold's head, and moved the chair near to his head. She sat down, and, when Marilyn returned, balanced his lunch tray on her lap, and fed him, one forkful at a time, a 3-egg, ham-and-cheese omlette.

"What do you say, Harry? You may speak," said Betty, after feeding him the last forkful.

Kelly, carrying something behind her back, came into the room. Harry could see all four women staring at him, and sensed that he had better not complain about his treatment.

"Thank you so much for feeding me lunch, Betty," was all he said.

"Good, Harry," said Marilyn, "you're not as dumb as you sometimes seem. Never ask us a question, and never complain. Always be polite and thankful, and we'll get along just fine. But you really must be more formal. You are to call me 'Ms. Pyne,' and refer to my daughters as 'Ms. Edith' and 'Ms. Elizabeth.' What should he call you, Kelly?"

"Well, he's not my boyfriend any longer, so I suppose that 'Ms. Stark' would be appropriate and respectful now."

"Now, Harry, I want you to apologize to Betty, and repeat your thanks. Make sure that your apology is sincere, and profuse. You may speak."

"Ms. Elizabeth, I most humbly apologize for my informality, and I most humbly beg for your forgiveness. I repeat my thanks to you for your extreme kindness in feeding me lunch."

"Do you accept his apology, or should he be punished?" asked Marilyn.

"Yes, I forgive him," said Betty, still in the chair, and she bent down and kissed him, softly, on his forehead.

"He's such a dear little baby," she added, "and so sweet, that I just have to forgive him. But I still look forward to tickling him senseless, again and again." She grinned down at him, and tickled him under the chin.

"I got up early," said Kelly, "very early, and drove to Albuquerque, to buy _many_ presents for you, Harry. Here's one."

She revealed a baby bottle, with a rubber nipple, full of milk. All four women laughed, as she handed the bottle to Betty.

"This will be much easier than using a straw, and it's so appropriate for a ticklish little baby boy," said Betty, as she stuck the nipple into his mouth.

Harold disliked milk very much, but he drank it down. Betty, who didn't know this, smiled. Kelly, who knew it well, smiled even more, and spoke to him.

"What do you have to say to us, Harry? Speak."

"Thank you ever so much for buying the bottle for me, Ms. Stark. And thank you so much for feeding me again, Ms. Elizabeth."

Betty kissed his forehead again, and took the extra pillow away. Then she got up, and returned the chair to the foot of the bed, where it had been. All three of the Pyne women stepped back, as Kelly walked slowly around the bed, taking in all of the details of Harold's bondage. She smiled again, and addressed him.

"My, my, Harry baby, you are most certainly in what I would call ...," said Kelly, pausing for a full ten seconds, "... an extrememly _ticklish_ situation. Your armpits are exposed, with your arms stretched up over your head and immobilized. Your ribs are exposed, and you have no chance to wriggle much from side to side. Best of all, the tender soles of your feet are flexed, and _so_ utterly vulnerable, as you can't move them at all. I would say, with even your thumbs tied and your fingers taped together, that you would have no hope of escaped, even if we left you alone here. So your situation is, in a word, _ticklish_. You are not to be envied, Harry, not in any way to be envied. Poor baby! Poor helpless, and very, very, ticklish baby."

Kelly turned away from him, and addressed Marilyn very formally.

"Dear Aunt Marilyn, I have a request to make."

"Go ahead, Kelly."

"Aunt Marilyn, I respectfully ask for permission to tickle your guest, Mr. Harold Lamb, who seems to have gotten himself into a rather helpless position, through none of my doing."

"But, of course, my dear, permission is granted. And you needn't trouble yourself as to how he found himself like this. That's entirely between him and my daughters, as well as myself. I do grant permission for you to enjoy his current helpless state. The best way to enjoy oneself as a tickler is solo--that way you know that _you_ are causing the reactions that you see and hear. Let's see, it is almost 1pm now. So I grant you the next five hours to tickle him solo. Go right ahead, and tickle him senseless. I hope you don't mind if we stay and watch some of it. Then we'll all have dinner, at 6. The best way to torment a ticklee is by a gang-tickle. So, after dinner, I invite you to join us in a gang-tickle. All four of us should be able to tickle him insane. How does that sound?"

"Just fine, Aunt Marilyn, and thank you so much!"

"You're most welcome, Kelly. And you should know that Betty discovered a very effective way to tickle his ribs. With each hand, simultaneously press the front of his rib cage with your thumb, while your fingers curl around his flanks, and press the back of it. It drove him wild."

Kelly got up on the bed, straddling his thighs, and went to work on his ribs in just that manner. She was delighted to see how well it worked--Harold shrieked like an banshee, and was soon laughing so hard that tears ran down his cheeks.

"Good job, Betty," said Kelly, without any pause in tickling him, "he really is more ticklish on the ribs than I ever knew. Thanks for discovering it."

Edye had left the room, and now returned with three more chairs, so the Pyne women could all sit, as they watched Harold suffer under Kelly's ever-moving fingers.

"It was my pleasure to discover it," said Betty, as she sat down. "And let Mom tell you which implements worked best on which parts of his feet."

Marilyn proceeded to do so, in detail, describing not only which implements, but which type of stroking, using each, had produced the most ticklish reactions on Harold's soles and toes that morning. Kelly listened attentively, but never paused in tickle-torturing Harold. By now he was in the jelly state, mouth moving in silent laughter, face in a grimace of ticklish agony, only quivering at her touch. Watching his face, Kelly kept him in this state, with no pause and no mercy. When he seemed about to faint, she slowed the pace, so he could breathe just enough to stay conscious.

"Excellent, cousin," said Betty. "You're not allowing him the respite he would get if he fainted. This morning we all tickled him into unconsciousness, just to show that we could, and how fast we could do it."

"That's because it was a contest," said Marilyn, "which Betty won, 31 to 27 to 26. She's the champion tickler of us three. But now, by all means, keep him right on the edge. Let him gasp just enough air to stay awake. You're doing splendidly, Kelly."

"Let me know when I've been at his ribs for an hour, Aunt Marilyn."

"Sure. I just love the way his lower ribs have turned red from your rubbing. Keep it up, Kelly. Show him no mercy."

Kelly laughed at that. "Mercy? Are you _joking_? This is a dream come true for me. I never got to tickle him enough when we were going out. And the indignity of _him_ dumping _me_, because I tickled him too much, in his opinion. Without false modesty, I'm beautiful and intelligent, a great body and a great brain. No man ever broke up with me before, until him. It hurt my pride. But I never let on that I was angry. I stayed on friendly terms with him, hoping for a chance to get him. Now's my chance, _now_. Mercy? No way! Delicious revenge, and plenty of it!"

Harold had recovered enough to be laughing out loud again, under the slower pace of her tickling. His laughter was continuous, as was the flow of tears from his eyes. The towel used as a diaper was now soaked with his urine, and he was very thirsty.

"Can I presume that you won't be driving back to college tomorrow morning, then?" asked Marilyn.

"Absolutely, Aunt Marilyn. With your permission, I'd like to stay here tomorrow, Saturday, and Sunday. I'll drive to Little Rock on Labor Day, Monday."

"You're _always_ welcome to stay here, dear, as often as you want to visit. You know that. Oh, the hour is up."

"Thank you so much, Aunt Marilyn," said Kelly, moving up a bit on the bed, and digging her nails into his armpits.

"Now let me know when I've done an hour under his arms."

Harold could not manage to shriek, he just emitted a weak squeal, as Kelly's strong fingers poked and poked his armpits. Kelly's plan to stay three more days had him in a state of panic and despair, but he could do nothing about it.

Betty decided to get up, sit near his head, look down into his eyes, and taunt him.

"Poor ticklish little baby! It wasn't very nice of you to break up with my beautiful cousin, was it? Just because you thought her overly fond of tickling you. Such a naughty baby needs to be punished, even if he is so cute. Naughty, naughty baby! So Kelly will be tickling you today, tomorrow, Saturday, and Sunday. So much fun for you to look forward to, baby! And we'll all help her, yes, we will. All four of us, eager to tickle you senseless, all day long. Now, let me show you just _some_ of the other presents that Kelly bought for you this morning."

As Betty got up and left the room, Kelly just kept right on tickling, and Harold was again near fainting, unable to utter a sound, only trembling in his bonds. Kelly slowed up a little, and then a little more, until she could see him breathing again. She never stopped tickling, but he was laughing audibly again by the time Betty returned, carrying two large shopping bags. She sat down near his head again, and began to remove items from the bags.

"Besides buying some baby bottles, and a supply of adult diapers, Kelly went to a fetish shop, a bondage shop, for her other presents for you. Here are some padded ankle cuffs. They can be padlocked onto your ankles, and she bought these locks, too. And this chain, to hobble you, even when you're allowed to walk. They have D-rings, see? To tie them to the bed posts. And she bought lots of rope, in three foot and six foot lengths. And these are padded wrist cuffs, also with padlocks and D-rings. And these are bondage mitts, even better than the wrist cuffs. They keep your fingers confined. Wasn't it sweet and generous of Kelly to buy you all these things?"

Harold, of course, only laughed and laughed as these items were held up, one by one, in front of his contorted face. Kelly was relentlessly tickling his armpits, and watching him wiggle and squirm, with a big grin on her face.

"Now let's see what else is in the first bag. This is a blindfold, with big, black, padded eye patches, for when we don't want you to see. And this is a ball gag, quite a large one. If we use it, you'll soon have an aching jaw. And some itching powder, that might be fun. From the second bag, now, this is a bondage sleeve. Both of your arms go in it, behind your back, and it gets buckled up tight. And this is a collar and leash, just like for a dog. Oh, Harry-poo, you can sometimes be my cute little puppy-dog!"

Harold was again near fainting, and Kelly slowed up considerably, letting him get enough air to recover. Betty waited until he was laughing out loud again to conclude her show-and-tell.

"I've saved the best present for last. Look, a straightjacket, just like they use on psycho wards. You'll sleep wearing this, with no hope of escaping during the night. So you'll stay here, ours. Our own little ticklish baby boy!"

"Kelly, you spent too much money on all that," said Marilyn, "and I'm going to reimburse you."

"That's not necessary, Aunt Marilyn."

"But I insist. You worked hard all summer, as a lifeguard, and you should keep that money for yourself. You know that my husband's estate was very large, and I do want to reimburse you for all this bondage equipment. After all, it's to be used in my house, for the entertainment of my guest. Oh--and, dear, you've been at his armpits for an hour now."

"Thanks so much, Aunt Marilyn," said Kelly, as she climbed down from the bed. "But when I said it wasn't necessary, I meant because I didn't spend a cent of my own money. Harry's backpack is in my car, and there was $2100 that he saved during the summer in the backpack, in cash. It's only fair that Harry should pay for it all; as you said, it's for _his_ entertainment. Same for the milk, baby bottles, and diapers. What was left of that money, I kept for myself. I deserve it, after the way he dumped me. I need to use the bathroom now, and he must be very thirsty. He's been crying like a baby, and sweating like a pig. Can one of you give him lots of milk while I'm gone?"

"Sure, I'll get it," said Edye.

Only Harold and Kelly knew that he hated milk, and he was forbidden to speak.

When Kelly returned from the bathroom, she was amused to see that Betty was feeding him milk from one baby bottle, while Edye filled up another one with more milk. After she had fed him both bottles, Betty invited him to speak.

"Thank you so much for feeding me again, Ms. Elizabeth."

"Very good, baby," she replied, "and you're very welcome. Just keep on being unfailingly polite, and we'll get along just fine. Is there enough milk for him? We only use it in our coffee."

"Why, yes," said Kelly. taking up a position on the chair near his feet. "I bought two gallons this morning, and put them in the fridge. I also bought a 25-pound sack of powdered milk."

Harold gagged, but did not speak.

"How long do I have to work on his feet, before dinner?"

"About two hours and 45 minutes, dear, it's 3:15."

"Excellent," said Kelly, as she began to scrape two forks along his right arch. Harold, a bit rested, had the energy to laugh loudly, and pound his head on the pillow, in an effort to distract himself from the tickling sensations. It didn't work. Inside of ten minutes, he was red in the face, and sobbing uncontrollably.

"This is _so_ cool," said Kelly, "I never imagined having his soles flexed and unable to move away from me. This is driving him insane, and I've hardly begun. You are really in for it now, Harry, do you understand me? No mercy, no respite, and I'm going to scrape these forks on your arches until your arches turn beet red. Then I'll switch to a scrubbing brush on the balls of your feet. No mercy, Harry, none."

When Kelly finally did switch to a scrubbing brush, swirling it in figure-8's all over the balls of his feet, Betty began to taunt him again.

"Such a cute, ticklish, baby boy, how could anyone resist? How could anyone resist the urge to tickle you? Poor ticklish baby! I can't wait until after dinner, when I'll get the chance to tickle you again myself. You think this is bad now? Just wait, baby, until it's all four of us. Poor ticklish little baby boy."

Kelly methodically tormented his feet, using the implements where they worked best, and also sometimes just scratching wildly with her fingernails. Harold, with his diaphragm aching, his lungs burning, and his ankles and wrists hurting from tugging on his bonds, wished very much that he would faint, as he had that morning.

But Kelly was too cunning. Every time he was close to fainting, she slowed up the tickling, just enough to let him breathe, and he stayed conscious. At 5pm, Marilyn had Edye go out to make dinner for them all, but she and Betty continued to watch, as Kelly went back to raking the forks over his arches.

[to be continued in this thread]

Part Four

Part Four -- Thursday, August 29, 2002 -- evening
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At 6pm sharp, Marilyn announced that they should go to dinner. She and Kelly left immediately, as Betty kissed Harold on the forehead again, and spoke to him.

"Rest up while we eat, you cute little thing. You'll need it--we're going to tickle you insane after dinner," she told him, and followed the others to the dining room.

Harold lay still, on a sheet soaking with his own sweat, in a towel soaked with his own urine, enraged at the theft of all his summer savings, but unable to loosen any of his bonds, or to move much at all. Worse was to come, he thought, as his rage sank into despair. Worse was to come, in the form of a gang-tickle immediately, with elaborate bondage equipment to be used later.

------------------------------

At 7pm, the four women returned to Harold's room. Betty was carrying a tray with meatloaf, a baked potato, and brocoli. She sat down, put an extra pillow under his head, and began to feed him little bites. He was truly hungry, and ate readily. When he'd eaten it all, Kelly handed Betty a baby bottle full of milk, and he was so thirsty that he didn't mind the (to him) unpleasant taste. But then Kelly handed her another bottle, and he had to force himself to drink it.

"Speak, dear little baby," said Betty.

"Thank you ever so much for feeding me dinner, Ms. Elizabeth."

"You're welcome," she said, removing both pillows from under his head. She then put one under his butt, and one under his back.

"That makes his ribs more prominent," said Betty. "Ticklish baby boys should present their ribs and tummies for our attention. I'll start there."

Instead of getting on the bed, she sat in a chair in easy reach of his ribs and belly. Edye sat on the other side of the bed, in easy reach of his armpits. Kelly and Marilyn each pulled up a chair at one of his feet.

"He should be well rested, so let's go all out, and see how long it takes to make him faint," said Marilyn, "just for fun. It's 7:40 now. Ready, get set, start!"

Betty was using her own technique on his ribs, and also sometimes blowing raspberries on his belly. Edye was digging into both armpits, relentlessly. Marilyn was using a fork on his arch, and a toothbrush on the pads of his toes. Kelly was using a fork on his other arch, and a scrubbing brush on the balls of his feet.

Harold went beserk, at first pulling mightily on his bonds, and screaming as if being electrocuted. He laughed convulsively, and began to sob uncontrollably. His struggles became feeble, and ceased. He laughter became weak, and soon he was in the jelly state.

"Just ten minutes to turn him into a quivering ticklish jello, a lump of helpless ticklish flesh," said Marilyn, "but don't let up. Let's make him faint this time."

It didn't take long--in just three more minutes, he was dead to the world, in blissful unconsciousness.

"No need to let him rest, he had plenty while we ate, and then being fed," said Marilyn, as she got up to get cold water, which she splashed in his face.

Harold woke up, and managed to keep quiet. Marilyn returned to her chair, and gave instructions to the three younger women.

"We've proved that we can tickle him into oblivion in 13 minutes flat. We don't need to do that again. Now, we want to keep him awake, and laughing, without letting him escape into unconsciousness. So let's begin again, but be ready to slow it down if I say so."

All four resumed tickling, and Harold again laughed and laughed. Edye spoke to him.

"For me, part of the fun of this is psychological, Harry. You desperately want us to stop tickling you, and we know it. But we won't stop, and you know that. And we all know that you'll get the same treatment again tomorrow, and that you have no escape. We all know that you are weak and helpless, and that we have complete power over you. How amusing it is! I enjoy the psychology of it."

"And part of the fun is purely physical," said Kelly, "just watching your toes wiggle and your soles twitch. You keep desparately trying to evade my attentions, even though you know you can't. You can't stop twitching and wiggling, and it's amusing to watch how useless it is, how helpless you are, how utterly vulnerable. And I intend to take full advantage of your situation, Harry, full advantage. Poor baby!"

"For my part," said Betty, "I just can't get over how _cute_ you are. A cuddly, cute, dear, little ticklish baby boy, all mine to play with. I always wanted a ticklish baby brother, and now I've got one. All mine, to feed, and bathe, and tickle. Of course, then all mine to tickle, and tickle, and tickle even more. And then to tickle, and tickle, and tickle again. I do have a reward planned for you tomorrow, but I want it to be a surprise. Dear little one, I can't possibly resist the urge to tickle you, and I'm not going to even try. Tickle, tickle, tickle."

"As for me," said Marilyn, "I just love having you under my control. Having you humble, polite, and obedient at all times. We're going to work on that, starting tomorrow. Teaching you to be most humble, ever so polite, and very obedient, 24 hours a day, without fail. It is a worthwhile project, and I am going to devote my full attention to it."

Harold thought that he would surely rather die, than endure the ghastly tickling, and the program of endless torture that they were planning for him. But he could do nothing but lie there and suffer, minute after minute, for more than three hours, as they just kept tickling him. They rotated positions, counter-clockwise, every half hour, just for variety.

At 11pm, Marilyn called a halt for the day, and they stopped. As they all untied him, she asked Edye to change the sodden sheets on his bed, and she told Betty that she could give him a bath. Kelly went with Edye to get clean linens, while Marilyn watched as Betty disposed of the urine-soaked paper towels, and carried him to the bathtub.

Harold still looked dazed as Betty scrubbed him from head to toe, rinsed him, and dried him off, and opened a box of the adult diapers that Kelly had bought, to put a clean one on him. He had regained enough of his senses to walk back to the bedroom, with Betty holding his hand. Edye and Kelly had just finished putting on clean sheets, and Betty gently picked him up and put him on the bed, in a sitting position.

He put his arms into the straightjacket at Marilyn's orders, and sat meekly as she buckled the straps down the back of it. He stood at her command, and waited as she buckled the last strap, which went under his crotch. Then she buckled the blindfold tightly over his eyes, and told him to lie on the bed, which he managed to do, even without the use of his arms. Marilyn locked the ankle cuffs onto his ankles, and tied each cuff to the nearest bedpost, via its D-ring. Then she tied the D-rings in the shoulders of his straightjacket to the two upper bedposts.

"Look, this is how he is to be secured, every night. Never leave even one strap unbuckled, or one D-ring unsecured."

"Right, Mom," said both her daughters.

"You may speak now, Harry," said Marilyn.

Harry was confused. Forbidden to complain or ask questions, he had no idea what to say.

"Well? I'm waiting."

"I'm so sorry, Ms. Pyne, but I don't know what you want me to say."

"At least that's honest, Harry, so your punishment will be mild. I want you to thank each of us for the time and attention that we've given you. Be sincere, and be specific. Be very humble and very grateful. Thank each of us individually, and mention some of what we did for you. Let's hear it. And if I'm not satisfied, then your punishment will be harsher."

"Thank you so much, Ms. Stark, for tickling me all afternoon and evening. I'm grateful that you spent the time to do it. And thank you so much for driving all the way to Albuquerque to get all of the bondage items for me. Ms. Edith, I want to thank you so much for tickling me all morning and evening. It was kind of you to take the time to do it. And also thanks so much for cooking my dinner. Ms. Elizabeth, I must thank you so much for tickling me all morning and evening, and congratulate you on being the champion tickler. And I am so grateful to you for feeding me and bathing me--it was so very kind of you. And to you, Ms. Pyne, go my greatest thanks of all. Not only for tickling me all morning and evening, but also for allowing me to stay in your beautiful home, and enjoy the food here. I am ever so grateful to you."

"Good, Harry, very good. But not complete. I will give you one more chance to finish. Speak."

Harry was frantic. Then he made his best guess.

"And I thank you in advance for my punishment, which I richly deserve. I am ever so grateful that you take the time to teach me proper behavior."

"Excellent, Harry. You _are_ learning. I do believe that I will be able to train you, to be properly polite and respectful, at all times. Your punishment is this: I will cover your legs, from the thighs to the toes, with this itching powder which Kelly bought for you. That is for not realizing that you must thank us, individually, every night, just before we allow you to sleep."

She proceeded to rub it into his thighs, knees, calves, and feet (his ankles being covered by cuffs) quite liberally. Then she covered him with a blanket.

"What do you have to say now?"

"Thank you ever so much for taking the time to correct my behavior, Ms. Pyne. I am deeply grateful to you."

"Very good, Harry, and sleep well. We have a busy day planned for you tomorrow," said Marilyn.

"And I have a treat for you, dear ticklish little baby boy," said Betty.

Then the four of them left the room, and left Harry with his legs itching madly.

[to be continued in this thread]

Part Five

Part Five -- Friday, August 30, 2002
----------------------------------------

Harold was exhausted, and slept soundly, in spite of the itching powder. He was awakened at 7am because Kelly and Edye were each holding the toes of one of his feet, and running a fork over its arch. Betty held his hair with one hand, to keep his head still, and was tickling the end of his nose, using a toothbrush. He laughed and laughed, helpless in the straightjacket and ankle cuffs, tied to the bed. Betty began to taunt him.

"Wake up, sleepy head! Wake up, my dear little ticklish baby boy. It's a new day, and I'm going to spend all of it with you--won't it be fun? Tickle, tickle, tickle. Poor ticklish baby, you're in for it again today. Tickle, tickle, tickle."

Within 15 minutes, Harold had reached the state of silent laughter, red in the face, tears running down his cheeks, quivering uncontrollably. They kept him in that state for another 15 minutes, and then stopped.

"I'm sorry to have to say that I'll be going to work now," said Edye, "and I won't see you again until after dinner, Harry. But I'm sure that the others will keep you amused."

As she left, Kelly and Betty began to remove his restraints, and they took off his dirty diaper, but left his blindfold on.

"Very good, baby," said Betty, "your arms and legs are free, but you made no move to get up, or to remove your blindfold. You are never to do anything unless we order it. Be a good, obedient baby, and we'll get along fine. Now stand up."

Harold stood, and Betty took his hand and led him to the bathroom, where she gently placed him in the tub, and turned on the water. They heard hammering from the bedroom, and Betty explained its meaning as she washed him.

"Kelly is installing a picture hook in the wall now, a big one, meant to hold a large oil painting. We're going to try a new position for you, after your breakfast--we've already eaten."

After drying him off, Betty put a clean diaper on him, and also put his hands into the bondage mitts. Each mitt was padlocked securely around the wrist inside it. The mitts had no thumbs, but enclosed all five fingers in one leather compartment. There were D-rings at the wrists, and also at the top of the compartment. She locked his hands together, in front of him, at the wrists, and also at the top of the compartments.

The hammering had stopped, and, as Betty led him back into the bedroom, he heard furniture being dragged in. Betty led him to a chair, and fed him scrambled eggs, toast, and two baby bottles full of milk.

Kelly, done moving the furniture, admonished him.

"No sad faces while you're drinking your milk. It's good for you, and you'll drink it and like it. A quart a day, or you'll be _harshly_ punished. When you've finished every last drop of that second bottle, speak. And it had better be what I want to hear."

Harold finished the second bottle, and said, "Thank you ever so much for buying me this nutritious milk, Ms. Stark. I'm very sorry that I made a sad face, and I won't ever let it happen again."

Kelly laughed. "Very good, Harry. Now let's see if I judged the height correctly."

Betty wiped his mouth, and led him to a sturdy, high-backed chair, which Kelly had placed against the wall, below the newly installed picture hook.

"Arms up! Higher," said Betty.

"Excellent," said Kelly, as she slipped both D-rings at his finger tips over the picture hook. "In fact, it's perfect. His arms are taut, but not strained. We won't need to put any of these cushions under his butt."

"My, my," said Betty, "those ticklish under arms are totally exposed, and totally vulnerable. How lovely."

"Not really," said Kelly, "because his underarm hair still protects him. I'll go get my electric razor."

Kelly left the room, as Betty used an Ace bandage to tie his chest to the back of the chair, just below the nipples. Another Ace bandage, just above his diaper, was used to tie his waist to the back of the chair, too.

Kelly came back, and carefully shaved his armpits, and then used a depilitory cream to make them even smoother.

"As smooth as a baby's, baby!" she exclaimed, admiring her work. Kelly paused, and spoke again.

"Now, baby, you're about to see--no, you can't see--feel one more item that I bought at the bondage store yesterday morning. Here's two hints: it was the most expensive item, and it was too big to fit in the shopping bags. Guess what it is, speak."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Stark, but I just have no idea. I _do_ thank you very much for getting it for me, and I'm most grateful to you."

"Very polite, Harry. You're learning."

With that she grabbed both of his ankles, and raised them up, and he heard something being dragged over to the chair. She lowered his ankles somewhat, and he felt padded U-shaped support under them. Hearing a clacking sound, he felt his ankles enclosed in what he now realized were stocks. He heard a lock click. He felt each of his toes being tied with twine, bent back, and tied back securely. Kelly and Betty now pulled chairs over to his feet, and began to tickle him with great intensity.

"It's only 9am, ticklish baby boy," said Betty, "and we intend to tickle you senseless. Four solid hours, baby, with no rest and no mercy. Poor baby!"

With his feet and toes immobilized, each of them was able to use both hands to tickle. Betty was working on the heel and arch of his left foot, and Kelly on the arch and toes of his right foot. They worked without ceasing, and soon he was in tickle hell--face contorted, tears flowing, diaphragm aching, mouth moving in silent laughter, and body feebly quivering. They kept him that way, slowing up when he was close to fainting. He just squirmed and suffered, for what seemed like an eternity to him.

----------------------------------------------

At 11am, Marilyn came in, yawning, and said, "Thanks for letting me sleep in, and for leaving breakfast for me in the kitchen. Oh, my, you two have been busy! What a lovely position to keep him in--feet and toes immobile and vulnerable, and his ribs and armpits exposed. And you've shaved his armpits! How nice, I'll dig right into them."

As she dug in with both hands, Harold's agony increased, as he squirmed helplessly, tears flowing from under his blindfold. The three women chatted about what to eat for lunch and dinner, while never missing a stroke tickling him. The soles of his feet were quite red, already, and now his armpits were getting red, also. The shaven skin did turn out to be more sensitive.

"You know," said Marilyn, "I have a waxing kit that I stopped using on my legs, because I didn't like the pain when I pulled the wax off. Let's wax his armpits, every day from now on."

"Sure, Mom, I can do it after his morning bath."

At 12:30, Marilyn excused herself to fix their lunch. On her way out, she took all of Harold's clothes, and his wallet, from the desk where he had left them on Wednesday night.

At 1pm, the young women finally stopped. They had succeeded admirably in achieving Betty's stated goal--he was tickled senseless. Even after they stopped, and removed his blindfold, he stared vacantly, with unfocused eyes, as he panted and gasped. Before they left for lunch, Betty kissed him on the forehead, and gave him a one-minute farewell tickle on his rib cage.

----------------------------------

All three women returned from lunch at 1:45. Betty had a large glass of what looked like a chocolate shake, and Kelly was carrying two baby bottles of milk.

"We've decided that you need to lose some weight, baby," said Betty. "About 8 or 10 pounds. We want you skinny, with prominent ribs. So you'll get these diet shakes for two meals a day, and non-fat milk."

She fed him the diet shake, and then he drank the bottles of milk with a smile, as Kelly was watching.

"You'll notice that your stuff is gone from the desk," said Marilyn.

Harold looked over, and did notice, for the first time. He wisely kept his mouth shut.

"Kelly already took the 21 hundred-dollar bills from your backpack, most of which she spent on presents for you. I've put the other contents of your backpack, the contents of your two suitcases, and your clothes from the desk, all in a safe place. Inside a locked trunk, inside a locked closet, inside a locked room of this house. There was $63 in your wallet, and $1.37 in change in your pants. I gave that all to Kelly. I want you to acknowledge that it is a gift from you to her, as was all of your summer earnings. I think that she deserves it, for putting up with your rude behavior when you were her boyfriend. I believe it was very rude of you to not allow her to tickle you, as much as she wanted to, whenever she wanted to. And you should apologize for your rudeness. Don't you agree? Speak."

"Yes, Ms. Pyne, I surely agree. I certainly believe that Ms. Stark is entitled to all of my money, and I acknowledge that it is a gift to her. I most humbly apologize to her for my rudeness. I most certainly should have allowed her to tickle me as she wished to. I am very, very sorry, and I beg her to accept my apology."

"Do you accept his apology, Kelly, or should we punish him? Let me show you how he will be punished."

She reached into one of the shopping bags, and pulled out a paddle. It was wooden, with leather padding on one side of the body. The handle was all wood. The body was a rectangle, 18 inches long by 4 inches wide, and 1/4 inch thick.

"_This_ item Betty neglected to show you yesterday. But she is rather sweet on you, and she didn't want to upset you. Your next punishment will not be with itching powder, no. It will be 100 firm strokes with this paddle, on your bare bottom, every day, until I believe that you have learned your lesson. Let me show you a firm stroke."

She turned to the bed. With a mighty swing, she gave the mattress a whack, strong enough to move the whole bed, and to terrify Harold. He began to tremble, and then to cry. Betty came over to him, and put one arm around his neck. She kissed the tears off of his cheeks, and kept kissing him on the cheeks.

"How sweet," said Marilyn. "But I need an answer from Kelly."

Kelly thought a while longer, and spoke.

"I'll accept his apology on one condition. He must make a statement that he not only allows but _encourages_ all four of us to tickle him, as much as we wish, today and forever more."

"You may now speak, Harry," said Marilyn.

"I most certainly allow, welcome, and strongly encourage all four of you to tickle me, as much as you want to, today, tomorrow, and so on, every single day in the future, forever."

Kelly laughed and laughed. "You've got him scared and broken, Aunt Marilyn. Thank you so much."

"It's my pleasure," said Marilyn. "And one more thing, Harry. The other contents of your wallet consisted of two credit cards, an ATM card, your driver's license, your student photo ID, a medical insurance card, and a public library card. I've put it all inside the same locked trunk, in a locked closet, in a locked room of this house. What do you say to that?"

"Thank you so much, Ms. Pyne, for keeping all that stuff safe for me. I am very grateful to you."

"Right answer, Harry. Very good. There is only one reason that I've been so lenient to you, Harry. Betty really does like you. You would be well advised to be utterly devoted to her. Now she has a treat for you, which I don't need to watch."

As she left the room, Betty finally stopped kissing him, and she and Kelly released him from the hook, the mitts, the chair, and the stocks. They changed his diaper, put him in the straightjacket, laid him on the floor, cuffed his ankles together, and tied his knees together. Kelly pulled up a chair to watch, as Betty placed a chair over Harold, with his head sticking out from under the seat. She sat down, and unlaced both of her running shoes, leaving them on.

"I was up very early this morning, baby, and did a run of five miles while my sister cooked breakfast. And I've been wearing the same shoes and socks since then. My feet were very sweaty. Do you know of any way that my soles could be cleaned and soothed, baby?"

"I most humbly beg to do it with my tongue, Ms. Elizabeth."

"That wasn't specific enough--do what? And it wasn't humble enough, either. You may try again."

As Kelly laughed and laughed, looking at the bulge in his diaper, showing his erection, Harold tried again.

"I know that I am not worthy, most beautiful Ms. Elizabeth, but I most humbly beg for permission to clean and soothe the lovely soles of your sacred feet with my tongue. I will be forever in your debt, if you allow it."

"Alright," said Betty. She teased him by removing her shoes slowly, then putting them back on, and then removing them even more slowly. She placed them next to his ears. Then she took a full five minutes to remove her socks, and sealed them in a zip-lock plastic storage bag, intended to keep sandwiches fresh. Finally, she placed her left sole over his mouth, and commanded him.

"Lick! Long, slow strokes, from heel to toe, with full tongue extention."

She glanced at her watch; it was 3pm. She sighed, as she enjoyed the feel of his warm tongue. She wriggled her toes in pleasure.

"You really like that?" asked Kelly. "There's slobber all over your foot."

"I love it, little cousin, I really do. That weasel George was a fortune hunter, and I knew it. Still, if he had been _truly_ willing to give my soles tongue baths, not hating it and doing it just to please me, then I might be married to that weasel by now."

At 3:30pm she directed Harold to suck on her toes. When that had been done to her satisfaction, she switched to her right sole, and then her right toes, and then back to her left sole, to begin the cycle all over again.

As Harold licked and licked, truly enjoying himself, the cousins talked, ignoring him. At 5:30, Kelly's look under the chair saw that his erection was as large as it ever got.

"Wow, he's got some woody. Do you intend to give him any satisfaction?" she asked.

"Of course not," said Betty. "A tongue bath on my bare feet is to give _me_ satisfaction. My ben-wa balls are in, couldn't you tell? I've had two climaxes so far, and a third one is building."

"I've used ben-wa balls, but not combined with anything, just letting them roll around while I walk on a treadmill. No, I didn't notice you screaming with joy."

"I'm not a screamer. I have quiet, but quite pleasurable climaxes. The dear ticklish little baby boy is here for _my_ pleasure, not his own. Didn't he beg to do it? He had better be grateful that I allowed him to. Zero chance that he gets off, by me or allowed by me. Ticklish baby boys should never be allowed to climax, only to be tickled, and tickled, and tickled forever. Oh, yes, it is building now. I don't _have_ to be quiet; I'll keep you posted, if it doesn't gross you out."

"Go ahead, Betty. I'm an adult, who's been to fraternity parties from time to time. I'm glad that you're having some pleasure. And it's good to know that Harry can give pleasure to _somebody_."

They laughed at that.

"Very close now. Building. Closer. Yes. Yes. Soon. .... Yes. Very soon. Yes ... yes ... yes... NOW! YES! YES! YES! OH! ... That was fine, that was just _fine_."

"Bravo, big cousin. I'm happy for you."

"Tell me, Kelly, in that bondage shop, do they have such a thing as a male chastity belt? Is there such a thing?"

"Sure. I saw a modern version, with no belt. All clear plastic. A device that locks over the whole genital package, and doesn't allow them to have an erection. Should I go back tomorrow and get one?"

"Oh, that would be so nice of you! But this time, take my money to pay for it. Keep all of his for yourself."

"Sure. And it's time to go in to eat dinner now."

It was 6pm.

"Stop licking now. And speak."

"I am ever so grateful for the privilege of licking your lovely soles and sucking your gorgeous toes, Ms. Elizabeth. I am in your debt forever. I am so glad that you got pleasure from it."

"Very good, baby. And what about my idea for a chastity device for you? Do you appreciate it?"

"Oh, yes, Ms. Elizabeth. I'm very grateful that you will help me practice the virtue of chastity, since I don't have the will power to do it on my own."

"What a very good baby you are! I'm make sure that you don't get punished, baby, don't worry."

They tossed him onto the bed, blindfolded him, tied his ankle cuffs to the lower bedposts, and tied the D-rings in the shoulders of his straightjacket to the upper bedposts.

"Now I have another treat for you, baby," said Betty. "You will be allowed to taste my feet during our dinner. Open wide."

She opened the zip-lock bag, and stuffed one filthy sock into his mouth, fixing it in place with a stocking between his teeth, tied around his head. The other sock she put over his nose, so that he would breathe through the dirty sole.

"Don't you _dare_ move your head, baby. I want to see that sock in place after diner."

Kelly rubbed his penis through the diaper, until his erection was once again as large as it ever got.

"I have an idea to drive you mad after dinner," she said.

------------------------------------------------------

At 7:30pm, all four women came into Harold's room.

"Good," said Betty, "you were a good baby, and kept still."

She removed the sock from his nose, and then untied the stocking around his head, and removed the first sock from his mouth.

"Speak, baby."

"Thank you ever so much for allowing me to taste and smell the grime and sweat on your dirty socks, Ms. Elizabeth."

The four of them untied him, and Betty fed him another diet shake, some wheat bran for fiber, and more milk. He was surprised when they removed his diaper and cleaned him up, but did not put on a new one. Left naked, he was bound in the mitts, chair, and stocks, as he had been in the morning.

"Oh, you've shaved his armpits," said Edye.

"Yes, and I'm going to wax them every morning," said Betty, "because ticklish baby boys should have smooth armpits."

Marilyn took a seat in the chair near his feet, Betty got in position to attack his ribs, and Edye his underarms. Kelly held up a basting brush, and spoke to him.

"You may wonder why you're not it a diaper. While they tickle you, I'm going to rub your genitals, ever so gently, with this soft brush. I'm going to keep you excited, but stop whenever you get almost ready to cum. Then start again when you begin to flag, then stop again when you're on the verge. And so on. Thank me in advance, and explain to me why you deserve it. Speak."

"Thank you so much, in advance, Ms. Stark, for teasing me just short of orgasm with that brush. I most certainly deserve it, because when I was your boyfriend, I thought primarily of my own pleasure, and often neglected to please you."

"Not good enough, Harry. Primarily?? Often?? Try again, and remember that the paddle is waiting for you, if I'm not happy with your statement."

"Thank you ever so much, kind and wonderful Ms. Stark, for teasing me to the brink of orgasm, but denying me the climax. I most certainly deserve it, because, when I was your boyfriend, I _always_ thought _only_ of my own pleasure, and I _never_ succeeded in pleasing you also."

All four women laughed at his confession. Kelly got the paddle, and handed it to Marilyn. She brandished it, with a cruel expression on her face, as Kelly asked him the next three questions.

"Do you richly deserve it today only?"

"No, Ms. Stark. I most surely deserve it every single day."

"Am I the only one who should administer this teasing?"

"No, Ms. Stark. It should be you, or any of the others that you designate."

"Do you merely allow it, or do you encourage it?"

"Most surely, I encourage it, Ms. Stark."

"Excellent, Harry. Aunt Marilyn, you won't be needing that paddle after all. Of course, I designate all three of you to tease him, as I will, as often as you wish. We've made such progress, today, Harry. From now on, all four of us have your blessing, your encouragement, to tickle you just as often as we want to, and just as much as we want to. And we have the same encouragement to tease you to the brink of orgasm, and never let you climax. Very good, Harry, we can proceed with clear consciences. Let's get to it!"

Harold now thought that he knew what Hell was like. The tickling on his feet, his ribs, and his armpits was relentless, and soon had him gasping and crying, quivering and squirming, as usual. Now, added to this torment, he had a huge erection, and the soft bristles of the basting brush kept rubbing his shaft, so that he felt just about ready, and then Kelly would stop. Unable to do anything about it, he suffered, and wished that he would faint. But the ticklers were too cunning, and let him breathe enough to stay conscious. Just as his erection began to fade, Kelly would resume stroking with the brush, and he was again rock hard. It went on and on, without relief or mercy, until 11pm.

They had to carry him to the bathroom after they released him--he was in no condition to walk or speak. He urinated copiously when he got there, and painfully, having had an erection for so long. After he was secured for the night, in his straightjacket and cuffs, tied to the bed to Marilyn's satisfaction, and blindfolded, Kelly whispered in his ear.

"Tomorrow will be worse."

[to be contiued in this thread]

Part Six

Part Six -- Saturday, August 31, 2002
---------------------------------------

Harry was awakend at 7am, with Edye and Betty tickling his feet, Kelly tickling behind his knees, and Marilyn tickling his nose with a toothbrush. After ten minutes, he was red-faced and laughing so hard that he was crying.

"I thought I could make him sneeze by tickling his nose, but it doesn't work," said Marilyn, "So I'll have to use stronger measures."

She took a pepper shaker out of her pocket, unscrewed the top, got a pinch of pepper, and put it directly into his nostrils. He sneezed violently, twice. Marilyn grinned, and put in another pinch of pepper. Harold sneezed three times, in the midst of his laughter.

"Excellent," said Marilyn, "add pepper to your shopping list, please, Kelly."

"Sure," said Kelly. "So let's see. This afternoon, I'll go to the bondage store in Albuquerque first, and get the chastity device for him. Then to a supermarket for food shopping. The special list for Harry now includes more milk, which I already told you he hates, spinach, which he also hates, and now pepper, for his nose."

As they all kept tickling him, Edye announced that she had to go to work soon. She added, "Think hard, Kelly. Any other foods that he can't stand?"

"Oh, yes, how could I forget? One morning, in November, I gave him cranberry juice, instead of orange juice, and he spat it back into his glass. And you saw that he didn't much like the bran that we fed him yesterday."

Edye left, and Marilyn put pepper in his nose again. They all laughed as he sneezed, and he had reached the jelly state, laughing silently and quivering helplessly.

"Poor little ticklish baby boy, you're going to have to eat what's good for you, whether you like it or not. Tickle, tickle, tickle. And this is just your wake-up tickle, baby. After breakfast, we'll do some _serious_ tickling," said Betty.

"It's only 7:30," said Marilyn. "You two get him bathed, wax his underarms, feed him, and get him into the mitts, chair, and stocks, while I cook our own breakfast."

"Sure, Mom."

------------------------------------------

At 8:30, Harold was securely bound to the chair, arms stretched overhead to the picture hook, and ankles in the stocks. Today, he wore no diaper. Betty and Kelly left to eat their breakfast.

The three women returned at 9am, Kelly and Betty taking positions at his feet, and Marilyn near his ribs. At a nod from Marilyn, they all began to tickle him, without mercy. Marilyn waited 15 minutes, until he was in the jelly state, in ticklish agony, to address him.

"Most men are pigs, as was my late husband, and as you are. Only thinking of themselves. A small example--Wednesday night, at dinner, you talked only about yourself, your studies, your summer job, your career plans. You never once asked my daughters where, or if, they went to college, or what jobs they have. Do you know where Edye is going? Of course not, she wasn't important enough for you to ask about her work, when you had the chance, on Wednesday. You leered at their legs and feet, but never asked about them as people. So now you'll never be allowed to ask a question, just to listen and obey. Edye is going to the Albuquerque Women's Self Defense and Fitness Center. She teaches martial arts there, Fridays and Saturdays. Weekends are the busiest time. We've got plenty of money, Jim Pyne inherited tens of millions from his father, who was one of the biggest bootleggers in the southwest. So Edye and Betty wouldn't have to work at all, if they didn't want to. But they enjoy teaching women to defend themselves, and they believe in it. They got me to buy the Center five years ago, and expand it. Edye teaches martial arts Friays and Saturdays, and Betty on Sundays and Mondays. I just tend to my investments, but now I have a new hobby: You. Training and torturing you. So let me tell you some of my plans."

All through this monologue, the three of them kept tickling him, without mercy, although they did slow up just enough to allow him to breathe, and stay conscious, and listen.

"You definitely need to be quite skinny, with prominent ribs, the better for us to tickle, and tickle, and tickle, without mercy. You're 5'8", so I've decided that you should weigh 130 pounds."

Kelly laughed at this, and Harold would have cried, but he was already sobbing uncontrollably from the tickling. His current weight, he knew, was 148 or 150.

"So here is your menu until further notice: A diet shake, skim milk, cranberry juice, and wheat bran for breakfast. Skim milk, bran, and lots of spinach for lunch. A diet shake, skim milk, and more spinach for supper. The diet shakes will have all vitamins you need."

All three women laughed heartily at the thought of Harold's diet. Kelly and Betty kept tickling his feet, while Marilyn picked up a basting brush, and began to stroke his scrotum and penis.

"Now we come to the matter of sex. You'll get _no_ _satisfaction_, and I do mean none at all. According to Kelly, you were just like my husband, Jim, in that regard. As soon as you climaxed yourself, it was over, without even noticiing or caring that your partner was not yet satisfied. Now it's payback time. You'll be teased to the brink, but never allowed to climax. I found that modern chastity device on the internet, but didn't order it. I want Kelly to buy it, with cash, because she's not known around here. It's quite ingenious. A plastic sheath, in the shape of testicles and a penis, but with the penis pointing down. It locks on over your own genitals with a tiny padlock, and can be worn for days at a time. It has a small opening for your urine to drain. If you start to get an erection, the the top of your penis hits the plastic, not allowing it to rise. Rings with tiny plastic spikes can be fixed inside the plastic sheath, so that your poor rising member will hit not smooth plastic, but rather the spikes. That should calm you down in a hurry. Kelly will buy three extra spiked rings, just for you, Harry. You'll wear it always when you sleep, just to make sure that you don't have a wet dream. And you'll wear it most of your waking hours, except when we wish to tease you with this brush. It can be worn under clothing, or, in your case, under a diaper."

At this point, Harry had a full erection, so she stopped stroking him with the brush, and resumed tickling his ribs.

"You may wonder why I stayed with that pig all through the years. I was only 18, and a virgin, when we married. He was 40, and very rich, and very smart. He had me sign a prenuptual agreement, giving me only a pittance if I left him. And then the children came, and that's the only good thing Jim ever did, giving me two lovely daughters. That, and getting drunk enough to drive off the road at 80mph in 1995. I didn't pretend to cry at his funeral. I thank God that nobody else was in the car."

As his erection had gone to half-mast, Marilyn resumed stroking his genitals with the brush. He was kept in tickle hell, and sexually aroused, but frustrated, until 1pm.

---------------------------------------------------------

After lunch, when Kelly had gone to buy food that he hated, and a chastity device to make his life miserable, Harold found himself flat on his back under the chair, bound as he had been the day before, and once again wearing a diaper. Betty took off her running shoes quickly this time, and placed them on either side of his head, by his ears. She tied them to his ears, with their own laces.

"You can wear them, as tokens that you worship my feet."

She again put her dirty, grimy socks into a zip-lock bag. She again made him beg several times to grant permission to lick her soles. Finally, she was satisfied.

"Lick, my dear little ticklish baby boy, lick!" she ordered, and Harold complied eagerly. For the first two hours, she was silent, not even giving verbal orders to suck her toes, but making her wish clear by poking his lips with them. He licked and sucked, and was, three times, pleased to see her toes curl, and hear her exclaim, in this manner:

"Yes, oh, yes, yes, ... YES! YES! OH! YES! ... nice, that was _fine_."

At 4pm, after her third orgasm, she spoke to him.

"Such a good baby! That's three already, and we have two more hours to go. Kelly had a point, that it's better to let myself express joy out loud. It _is_ better when I let myself go. The ben-wa balls are good on their own, but fantastic when combined with foot worship, from an enthusiastic man, who _loves_ to serve my feet. That's your best quality, baby. You should cherish these hours at my feet, because they're all you have. No food that you like anymore, no sex for you, and endless tickle-torture! Poor baby! So keep me happy, keep me well satisfied, the five days a week that I'm not working, and I'll keep protecting you from Mom. She has her worst idea for you yet, sad to say."

Betty changed feet, and then went on.

"Mom lied to you about one thing yesterday. Your driver's license, credit cards, and all that stuff with your name on it, isn't locked away with your clothes. She cut them into tiny pieces, covered them with rubbing alcohol, and burned them. She examined the ashes, added more alcohol, and set it on fire again. When she was sure that not one speck was unburned, then she scattered the ashes outside. On Monday, Kelly will be driving back to Little Rock alone. You're our baby, for ever and ever. Mom really meant it when she said that you are her new hobby. She's going to devote a lot of time to training you. Poor baby! Oh, it's coming, soon, soon, ... , almost, yes, now, NOW, YES, YES, YES, OH YES!! ... That was just great, little baby boy, you're earning my protection very well today."

Betty closed her eyes, and relished the afterglow, as Harold continued to lick her right sole, with full tongue extention, slowly, from heel to toe, over and over again, just the way she liked it best.

"Oh, I was going to tell you about Mom's worst plan, but I've stopped it, she won't do it. She wants to brand you, just like cattle. Not as a punishment, just to mark her ownership. Dad had a tool shed, and she is sure that she can make a branding iron, with a large 'M', her initial. She wants to heat it red hot, and brand you on both butt cheeks. That's really gross, isn't it? I won't let her do it, it's too cruel. She's promised me not to brand you, as long as you keep me happy. So I'm sure that you'll be the most eager, energetic foot slave on earth! You'll give me multiple orgasms, for as long as I want, and you'll beg to be allowed to do it! If I were to tell Mom that I'm the least bit unhappy with you, just a tiny bit dissatisfied with you, then you'd get the branding iron. And neither of us wants that. So I can count on you being the best behaved, most obedient little ticklish baby boy in the world."

The rest of the foot worship session passed in silence, except when Betty had her fifth orgasm. At 6pm, she accepted his profuse thanks, and tied him to the bed, with the running shoes still tied to his ears. She went to dinner barefoot.

--------------------------------------------------------

All four women came into Harold's room at 7pm, Edye having returned from work, and Kelly from her shopping. They fed him his supper, a diet shake, spinach, and milk. Then they left him in his straightjacket, but removed his soiled diaper and cleaned off his genitals. Kelly produced the chastity device, with three spiked rings installed inside it, and locked it around his testicles and penis.

"Good fit," said Betty.

"I ought to know his size," said Kelly, "just a bit smaller than average."

They all laughed at him, and he turned red.

"But we should see how it works now," said Kelly, "before we put a diaper over it."

They laid him flat on the floor, spread his ankles wide, and tied them to two of the bed's feet. It gave them all a good view of his flacid member, at rest in the plastic sheath.

Kelly took off her sneakers and socks, sitting in a chair near his head, and she told him not to move at all, and to keep his lips closed. She then rubbed one bare foot on his lips, while holding the other above his eyes.

Harold's reaction was swift. His penis began to engorge with blood, and started to rise. It hit the plastic spikes, he screamed, and his erection subsided.

The women all laughed again. Kelly continued to rub, with both feet now, all over his face. He screamed again, and his erection again vanished. Marilyn stooped down and peered intently through the clear plastic sheath.

"Those spikes are sharp enough to hurt him, but not sharp enough to break the skin. There's no blood," she reported.

"Exactly as advertised, how refreshing, how unusal," said Kelly, as she put her socks and sneakers back on, and got up.

"I've already told him," said Marilyn, "that he'll always wear it during the night, and most of his waking hours, unless we want to tease him with the basting brush. Now we can put a diaper over it, and get him set up for his evening tickle-torture in the chair and stocks."

------------------------------------------------------------

By 7:45pm, he was secured as usual, his hands in mitts hanging from the hook in the wall, tied to the chair, his ankles in the stocks, and his toes tied back. They finally removed the running shoes from his ears. With all four of them tickling him, totally without mercy, he was in the jelly state in ten minutes flat. He could only gasp for breath, and they slowed up to keep him conscious. Marilyn and Edye, at his feet, had applied baby oil, and found that this made his feet even more sensitive. Kelly dug into his smooth, waxed underarns, and Betty dug into his ribs. As they kept him in tickle-torture hell, Kelly spoke to him.

"It's really your own big mouth that has been your downfall, Harry. At dinner Wednesday, you blurted out how incredibly ticklish you are, and that was a big part of it. You pointed yourself out as a weak, vulnerable target, a perfect tickle victim. We already regarded you as a smaller man, unathletic and unskilled in fighting, among four women, all stronger and taller than you, two of them instructors in the martial arts. You may as well have waved a sign, saying 'utterly helpless tickle victim here for your amusement.' You managed to offend Aunt Marilyn, earlier during that dinner, by talking only about yourself, and treating my cousins as only eye candy. But your worst mistake came even earlier, during our drive here from LA. Remember when I asked you if your parents were happy that you were getting a free ride home? You answered me that you hadn't spoken to them in weeks, that they presumed you were flying home, and that they had no idea when you would show up. That when they asked you what time to meet you at the Little Rock airport, you snapped that you didn't know exactly when your work project would be finished. That you told them you'd get home on your own, by the start on classes on Tuesday, September 3. Again, you blurted out all of that, telling me that nobody will regard you as missing until then. When your parents do call the police, it will likely be the evening of September 3. The police will be told that you were expected to fly home. The search will be in LA, and in Little Rock. Nobody will _ever_ look for you in the New Mexico desert, over 800 miles from LA, over 900 miles from college."

She paused as all of them laughed at him, and chanted "Never, never, never to be found." Then she went on.

"The police will eventually question me, as your former girlfriend. I'll tell them that we have been on friendly terms, that I last saw you in May, on campus, and that I did talk to you on the phone in August, but had no idea about your travel plans. You really will never be found. You'll be here, in my aunt's house, forever. It's all your own fault, and it's _just_ what you deserve, baby."

All four women laughed and laughed at him, and just kept on tickling him, endlessly tickling him, never pausing. Betty then decided to address him.

"You were a bit unlucky, really. To have been born so very, very ticklish, I mean. My sister and I aren't ticklish at all, and neither is Kelly. But you have the misfortune to be extremely ticklish, in you own words, 'dreadfully ticklish,' and that part surely isn't your fault. Poor baby."

Betty tickled his ribs especially vigorously for a while, and then went on.

"But you should have been cautious, just because you're so ticklish. The fact that Kelly is a tickle-fiend, the fact that you experienced tickle-torture at her hands, should have made you cautious with us. But you were just the opposite of cautious. You went and _told_ us that you're dreadfully ticklish. You went and _told_ us that you can't bear to be tickled. That was like putting catnip all over yourself, and parading in front of big cats. Of _course_ we made plans to get you the next morning. We told Kelly of our plans, and were delighted when she welcomed them. And you turned out to be _so_ ticklish, it was beyond our wildest expectations. So very, _very_ ticklish, we could scarcely believe our good luck. Then Kelly brought back all the bondage stuff, making it so easy to keep you helpless, all of the time. So that's the way it will be, we _never_ intend to let you go. Why should we? It's such _fun_ to tickle you, and there's no reason to ever stop. It's sad that Kelly can't stay, she has to drive back to college on Monday. But the three of us will enjoy tickling you senseless, every single day. Tickling you insane. And I will certainly enjoy having you worship my feet. The fact that you love to do it is the best part of your personality, my dear little ticklish baby boy!"

"You can have his exclusive services in that regard, Sis," said Edye, "because I surely love to tickle him silly, but I don't want his slobber all over my feet."

"Yes," said Marilyn, "your sister has a soft spot in her heart for him, because he just loves to lick her soles. She's even convinced me that I shouldn't brand him, at least not as long as he keeps her well satisfied. Hear that, Harry? Be sure to be very thankful to Betty--it's only her kindness and good will towards you that keeps you from a red-hot branding iron."

Harold, quivering helplessly as they all tickled him, did manage to nod his head.

"Good, Harry, I saw you nod. Kelly, when can you visit us again? Harry will be here for your amusement, of course."

"I can come for Thanksgiving. I'll have no Tuesday classes in the fall, so I can drive up on that Tuesday, and stay until Sunday morning."

"I really do insist on paying for airfare for you. You shouldn't have to drive over 900 miles, and, by flying, you'll have more time to torture Harry. By then, he should be slimmed down, and _very_ well trained."

They all thought that the predictions were hilarious, and they laughed themselves, as they kept tickling him.

[to be continued in this thread]

Part Seven

Part Seven -- Tuesday, November 26, 2002 -- Conclusion
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Edye met her cousin Kelly at the Albuquerque airport at 11am, and they exchanged big hugs, and kisses. On the drive to the house, Edye asked if the police had actually interviewed her.

"Oh, yes," said Kelly, "on September 9. It went just as I had anticipated. I was just one of the people on their list, a former girlfriend. Once I told them that I hadn't seen him since May, on campus, and that I had no idea when he had intended to fly from LA to Little Rock, they weren't much interested in talking to me any longer. They thought I was just a dumb blonde. One cop finally asked if I had a new boyfriend. He was staring at my chest, the jerk. I just told him that's none of his business. Then they left."

"Yes," said Edye, "it's often an advantage to be underestimated. Men are always thinking I'm not too bright, just because I'm blonde and have a great body. So are they still looking for him?"

"By the end of September the police stopped looking. Nobody but his parents cared by then that he was still missing. After all, he's not a child, he's 20 years old."

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As Kelly and Edye came into the house, Betty hugged and kissed her cousin, and told them that lunch was ready. Marilyn hugged and kissed Kelly, and then excused herself, going away down the hall. The three young women went into the dining room, where the table was set for four. Edye and Kelly sat down, and Betty went into the kitchen and brought their food. She also brought a large dog bowl, which she set on the floor, near her mother's intended seat. Kelly saw that the dog bowl contained lots of spinach, with lots of bran sprinkled on top.

"Oh, my God, how skinny he is!" exclaimed Kelly, as Marilyn came into the dining room, leading Harold, who was on all fours, in a collar, attached to the leash that was in Marilyn's hand. There was hair on his head, but none on his body, none anywhere below his neck.

He was indeed much skinnier than he had been in August, having weighed in at 129-1/2 pounds that morning. His ribs were extremely prominent, and the sight of those ribs made Kelly just ache to tickle them, and tickle them, and then tickle them even more.

Besides the collar, Harold wore only the chastity device. He kept his eyes glued to the floor. It was not clear that he knew Kelly was in the room--he gave no sign of knowing. Marilyn sat in her chair, and unclipped the leash from his collar. He stayed on all fours, but raised his eyes to stare intently at her right hand. He made no move to eat from the bowl near his own right hand.

As the women ate linguini with red clam sauce, and green beans, and drank some fine Merlot from Oregon, Harold remained motionless, and kept staring at Marilyn's right hand. Their conversation ignored his existence, and mostly concerned Kelly's activities since that had last seen her, on Labor Day. When they had finished their lunch, Betty cleared the table, and Edye went to the kitchen also to get ice cream. Betty returned carrying two baby bottles of milk.

Marilyn snapped her thumb against her third finger.

"Thank you ever so much, Ms. Pyne," said Harold, and he began to eat his bran and spinach, using his hands.

"I have a whole set of finger signals, and he knows that he will be severely punished if he misses a signal. It keeps him alert, and it is quite amusing, how obedient he's become, and how well trained."

As the women began to eat their ice cream, Kelly mentioned how skinny he now was.

"Yes, it took 10 weeks to get him down to 130 pounds. He's now on a diet to maintain that weight, not that it can be exact. We're keeping him in the range from 128 to 130 pounds. I just added more milk to his daily alotment, when he went off the stricter diet, the one we had him on to lose weight. He still hates milk, but he begs to have it, and gives thanks for being allowed to drink it, as you will see in a few minutes."

Harold had finished his bran and spinach, and was looking at Marilyn's hand again. She snapped her thumb against her fourth finger. He bent down and licked the bowl, licking and licking, even after it seemed clean. He kept licking until Marilyn reached over and twisted his ear. At that, he rolled over on his back, and waited. Betty came over to him, holding the bottles of milk.

"And now it's time for you to have something to drink, baby. Speak."

"I most humbly beg to be given milk, Goddess Elizabeth."

Betty put one bottle in his mouth, waited until he finished it, and then gave him the other bottle. When he finsihed that, Betty sofly tapped his belly with her foot.

"I most humbly thank you, Goddess Elizabeth. It was very kind of you to allow me to drink milk."

Marilyn snapped her thumb against her pinky, and he quickly got up on all fours, and waited, as she reattached his leash. She looked up at Kelly and smiled.

"Just once, in October, he didn't sound sincere when he thanked her for the milk. Betty went into the bathroom, and came out with a baby bottle full of her piss. She held it in front of his face, and said that from now on, he would have to beg for milk before he got it, as well as thanking her for it afterwards. And if he ever didn't sound sincere, he would be drinking her piss for a week. You should have seen the look on his face! He's been very careful since then."

"Did you make him drink that one bottle?" asked Kelly.

"No," said Betty, "the threat was enough. I kept it in the fridge for a week, and showed it to him every day, until I was sure he had learned his lesson. It is quite amusing to train him."

"And why aren't you called 'Goddess Pyne,' Aunt Marilyn?"

"I'm not his protector, Kelly. I'm just 'Ms. Pyne,' and Edye is just 'Ms. Edith,' but Betty is his goddess, his protector, his love. He truly loves and worships her now. He misses her, truly misses her, when she is at work. When she told him that she wanted him to be baby-smooth, with no hair, except on his head, he agreed immediately. He wasn't faking, he really wanted to have it done to him, just to make her happy. So we shaved him all over, and Betty waxes him regularly. He loves her totally and absolutely, don't you, Harry? Speak, to her."

"Yes, totally, absolutely, with all of my heart, I love you, Goddess Elizabeth. My only purpose in life is to amuse you, and to give you pleasure. I am so proud that you allow me to give you pleasure."

Harold blushed at that last statement that he had made.

"How sweet, he's blushing," said Marilyn, as she led him away down the hall. Edye went with them.

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"The threat is stronger than the execution, Kelly," said Betty, now that they were alone. "Mom never spanked him, not once, but the demonstration of how hard she hit the mattress has kept him in constant fear. Mom never intended to brand him, either. We concocted that to really terrify him. It's the same priciple as the police use, to break down a suspect. They call it 'good cop/bad cop.' Threatening to do things to him is much more effective than doing them. If I had made him drink my piss, he would have done it, and realized it wasn't poisonous. If Mom had branded him, he would have survived it, and hated us all. This way, he's kept in fear of Mom, and, to a lesser extent, of Edye, but he loves me with great devotion. I do hope that you're not jealous, cousin, he was once..."

"Don't even think it," interrupted Kelly. "Of course not! We were over long before he met you, and I only pretended to stay friendly in the hopes of getting some advantage over him, sooner or later. And that certainly worked out!"

"They should have him ready by now. Let's go to his room."

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Something new was in the room, Kelly saw, a rack, with ankle stocks at one end, and wrist cuffs that were attached to the stretching wheel at the other end.

"I built it myself," said Edye, "I've always been buliding things, since I was a kid. Isn't it a good job?"

Kelly had to agree that it was an excellent functional rack. Harold was stretched out taut, but not in pain. His toes were tied back to the eyeholes in the top of the ankle stocks. His hairless body was totally vulnerable, taut and helpless to their touch. He was totally naked, except for being blindfolded.

"You've got first choice," said Marilyn.

"I'll take his ribs," said Kelly, "I've been anxious to get at them since I saw them sticking out."

Betty moved to his feet, and Marilyn to his armpits. Edye took a basting brush, and got ready near his groin. At Marilyn's signal, they all began. Kelly waited until he was in ticklish agony, in the jelly state, and with a large, frustrated erection, before speaking to him.

"I've been looking forward to this since Labor Day, when I left here. Knowing that you were being tickled insane, every single day, has made me happy. Being here to do it _myself_ is pure heaven. Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle, baby Harry. So smooth, so soft, so sensitive, so ticklish. Tickle, tickle, tickle. That's what you deserve, and that's what you'll get. You got yourself into this, and there is no way that you'll ever escape. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Today, tomorrow, Thanksgiving Day, and _every_ day. Always and forever, endless tickling. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Always."

The End

wow... would never want to meet those women.. this was just mean in a sadistic way

Maybe that's why nobody responded to this story before--it's too dark and sadistic for most people's taste here.

wow I must say I enjoyed that very much ^-^
I really do hope you write more on this site

I hadn't noticed this one was comment-less before. There are parts of this one that I just love and come back to read again and again, and there are also parts I generally skip over.

Actually, it could be that <I>all</I> of my very favourite stories have parts I don't really care for, and small sections I think are phenomenal.

For anybody who really liked this story and always wanted to own it in paperback, a slightly revised version can be purchased in paperback here:

http://www.lulu.com/content/3512559

milagros317 said:

Maybe that's why nobody responded to this story before--it's too dark and sadistic for most people's taste here.

Click to expand...

I actually don't consider this story to be anywhere near as dark/sadistic as some of your others (Eg: "Ben's Torment" or especially "Sorority Sisters".) Poor Harry was never paddled or branded, after all! I'd like to see another story like " Billy's Bliss", involving a willing "victim". I'd like to see further inside the psyche of someone who loves to be tickled, inspite of the torture.

omfg this is so good!!

zayzaytay said:

omfg this is so good!!

Click to expand...

I am very glad that you enjoyed it!
That is why I wrote and posted all these stories in the first place, for people who like the same things that I like.

Your wonderful stories have been an inspiration for me to want to write. Thank you so much for all these amazing stories. It tickles just reading them