Cloak and Feather: The Return of Miss Ramirez - part 3
“Well?” Carla smiled at Samantha.
Samantha shook her head and grinned. “I wonder what would give you more pleasure? Stripping me or watching me strip?” She crossed her arms at her waist and in one smooth motion pulled the T-shirt over her head, shook her hair free and hung her shirt on the X-frame.
“That’s an X-frame, not a clothes frame.” Carla said.
“Bite me.”
“I intend to.” Carla took a moment to admire Samantha’s body. She wore a plain white T-shirt bra. “Very practical although I must admit I had hoped for something a little more decorative.”
“I imagine you only wear the most expensive underwear.”
“Do you often picture me in my underwear, Samantha?” She patted the table. “On your front please.”
Samantha lay on the table and Carla secured her ankles into the padded stocks. Next her wrists were buckled into a pair of cuffs which were attached to a winch. Carla moved to the winch handle and began turning it. The teeth on the winch cog clicked as Samantha’s arms were pulled out. Soon she was lying flat on the table, the leather cool against her skin. Carla gave her a cheeky wink and gave the handle a final quarter turn.
“Comfortable?”
“I’ve been in worse spots.”
“Yes, I imagine you have.” She ran her fingertips down Samantha’s back to her helt line and then glided them hands back up, curling her fingers into the stretched hollows of Samantha’s underarms.
She leaned close to blow on Samantha’s ear. “I seem to remember your underarms were very creamy and sensitive and of course it’s so much worse when you’re stretched out like this.”
Samantha could feel her nerve endings fire up in anticipation. She groaned as she felt the pads of Carla’s fingers being to flick and stroke in her armpits.
“I think this will be tough for you. I’m barely touching you and you’re already taut as a guitar string.” Carla said into Samantha’s ear.
“How long this time?” Samantha said, her face pressed into the leather padding.
“There’s more of you to play with so fifteen minutes is fair. Then I’ll have you on your back so I can helpless myself to your ribs and belly.”
Samantha needed a longer list to work through. Sovereign states should do it.
Carla grazed her nails against Samantha’s irresistibly smooth pits and felt the beautiful spy begin to shake with barely suppressed laughter. She kept up the tempo, loving the way Samantha’s body moved as she reacted to the tickling.
She pressed her chin into the juncture of Samantha’s shoulder and neck. “Fun, right?”
Samantha’s reply was laughter. With the nails skating in her smooth hollows she wasn’t feeling big on conversation.
...Abkhazia...Albania...Algeria…
“Who has tickly pits? Samantha does.” Carla sang. She sped her fingers up now, making Samantha lurch from side to side. She moved her hands up and down Samantha’s underarms making sure she didn’t miss a spot.
...Andorra...Antigua and Barbuda...Argentina…
Argentina. Samantha wasn’t a huge red meat fan but she eaten the best steak of her life there. She concentrated hard, trying to remember the taste of that meal and the full-bodied Zinfandel that had accompanied it. Anything to distance herself from the sensations in her underarms.
Carla felt the resolve in the woman she had strapped to the rack and began to lobster claw her way down Samantha’s ribs, plucking and squeezing all the way to her waist. Samantha let out a strangled squeal followed by another peal of musical laughter.
...Armenia...Artsakh...Australia…
Carla lightly grazed her nails down Samantha’s back which made her shiver with ticklish delight but then it was back to the assault on her underarms and ribs.
...Austria...Azerbaijan...Bahamas…
Oh to be on a beach in the Bahamas right now, Samantha thought. She chided herself, she’d taken the challenge and she wasn’t going to quit. She gave in to the laughter which was music to Carla’s ears.
The Latina swatted Samantha’s ass and lobster clawed from the tops of her thighs to her knees. Samantha threw back her head and wailed.
“Your body reminds me of the dancers I’ve had,” Carla said, she moved back to Samantha’s waist, pressing into the firm muscle of her abdomen and working her way back to her pits.
...Shit, what comes after the Bahamas? Samantha hadn’t even made it out of the Bs before she was undone by the tickling. Bahrain! That was it.
...Bahrain… Bangladesh...Barbados…
Carla steepled her fingers and pulsed them against Samantha’s ribs. She knew from extensive experience that bondage and the inability to pull your arms down made this kind of tickling worse by orders of magnitude, a fact which was supported by the powerful shrieks of laughter she was coaxing from Samantha.
“Pits, ribs, hips, Samantha. You really are ticklish everywhere, aren’t you?”
“I’m just remembering a joke.” Samantha shot back between fits of laughter.
“Oh really, you must tell me, I enjoy a good joke.” Carla said. She hunkered down over Samantha and blew on her ear as she traced circles in her armpits with her fingernails.
The padded leather had warmed up in contact with Samantha’s hot skin which was now covered with a light sheen. Carla’s fingers glided with ease, seeking out and exploiting ticklish targets one after the other.
“Is your ass ticklish?” Carla began cycling her nails all over Samantha’s butt.
Even through her jeans the sensation was maddening. Samantha pressed her hips into the rack in a vain attempt to escape.
...Belarus...Belgium…Belize…
One hand went back to her waist, pinching and stroking, the other attacked the tops of her thighs. Samantha wriggled her hips as much as the bondage would allow but she couldn’t shake off the tickling fingers.
She flinched at another spank. “I can’t believe that was fifteen minutes already,” she said in disappointment.
Samantha sighed with relief and let her body sag. That had been tough.
She heard Carla say: “But since your feet are in these stocks.”
Before she could protest she heard wicked laughter behind her as Carla scribbled her fingernails over her feet.
“You said fifteen minutes.”
“For your body, not your feet. This is dessert.” Carla giggled at Samantha’s discomfort as she worked her soles.
“No fair.”
Carla didn’t tickle her for long, just enough to make a point: she was in control. “Sometimes the anticipation works, sometimes the surprise attack works. I don’t have a preference.”
Samantha groaned. She was breathing hard and her heart pounded in her chest. This was harder than the last assessment she had been put through by Section Seven. She knew a big part of that was down to her tickler.
Carla undid Samantha’s bonds.
“Are you thirsty? I have refreshments. Of course given what goes on down here it’s mostly water and energy drinks.”
“A little water wouldn’t go amiss.”
“Just a short break,” Carla handed her the water. “I’m eager to work on that tight belly of yours.”
Samantha felt butterflies in the pit of her stomach. As she understood it a ticklish belly button was a rare thing but she had one and she was equal parts nervous and curious to see what Carla had in store for her. She touched her fingertips to the pulse in her neck. She seemed to be recovering nicely. What was it the military guys said? ‘Embrace the suck.’ She put her glass down. “Well let’s get to it then.”
Carla massaged her shoulders . She ran her fingertips down Samantha’s arms and nuzzled the long dark tresses away from her ear. “Anyone would think you enjoy being my slave.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, I’m getting something out of this too.”
“Oh really? And I thought Angela was the kinky one in Section Seven.”
Samantha laughed. “At some point I’ll be back in the field and some joker will strap me down and bust out the feathers. After what you do to me I’ll probably yawn my way through it.”
Carla grinned and wrapped her arms around Samantha. “I better make sure I do a good job then. Now get on the rack so I can strap you down nice and tight.”
Despite the fact she was consenting to this, Samantha was a ball of nervous energy as Carla turned the winch handle to stretch her out. The Latina circled her like a shark, letting her fingertips brush over her body. “Everything looks delicious, I really don’t know where to start. How about...here.”
Samantha gasped as Carla pinched her waist and then began running her fingers up and down her sides. The giggling erupted almost instantly. She told herself to enjoy it. She told herself she didn’t hate being tickled, she loved it. She told herself this was the ultimate freebie from the best in the world.
...Benin...Bhutan...Bolivia...
Her ribs were next, poking and tapping. Scratching lightly where the sheer material of her bra covered her. Each poke and tap elicited a delightful twitch.
“It’s not just the feeling of a ticklee’s skin under my fingers, or their laughter. It’s the way they move, the expressions they make. There’s something pure about it, something unguarded that you cannot fake.”
“Getting philosophical on me?” Samantha said, her eyes screwed shut.
“I think therefore I am. I am therefore I tickle. How’s that?”
Carla’s hands turned into lobster claws, pulsing on the ribs at the edges of Samantha’s breasts, moving up to tease the area where her chest merged with her underarms.
Samantha shook her head from side to side, engulfed in hysterics. She hadn’t experienced this technique before.
Carla leaned in close, pressing her lips to Samantha’s ear, laughing along with her. “This one is fiendish isn’t it. I found this spot on a celebrity who came to me for a session. Now I wonder if the highly trained operative can handle it better than an actress who plays one on screen?”
Samantha registered the words but the hot breath on her ear and the lips brushing against it proved distracting. She told herself she loved this, she wanted this.
...Bosnia and Herzegovina...Botswana...Brazil…
Carla cupped Samantha’s face. “I find my playthings lose their sensitivity in that area quite quickly but you’ll be tingling for a while. Let’s try something else.” She began to lightly flicker the pads of her fingers around Samantha’s delicate ears.
This brought forth some violent head shaking from Samantha. When the fingers moved to tickle her neck and shoulders she dug her chin into her chest. All this did was give Carla access to the back of her neck and her ears again.
Samantha recalled her recent combatives training and how sore her neck had been afterwards. She imagined her neck would be just as sore after this but at least she wasn’t fending off chokes and strangles here. The ticklish strokes around her ears and throat were soft and spidery in contrast to the more robust tickling on her ribs. Even through the laughter and breathlessness she had to admire the unpredictable nature of the tickling.
...Brunei...Bulgaria...Burkina Faso…
Spidery tickles moved to her upper arms, tracing the line between her biceps and triceps, circling the hollows of her elbows, gliding along her forearms and tracing patterns on her palms.
“Sometimes the lightest tickles can be the most infuriating. Wouldn’t you agree?”
The tingling made Samantha shiver and she could feel gooseflesh rise on her skin. This did not go unnoticed and Carla began to gently blow on the areas she teased.
“Ooh that’s wicked,” Samantha said in a wavering voice. She was breathing hard.
...Burma...Burundi...Cambodia…
The fingers reversed course, delving into her underarms, tapping and squeezing her ribs and stroking her sides and waist. Carla was facing towards Samantha’s feet as she began working her thumbs in a vibrating pattern against toned stomach muscles.
Samantha’s hips jerked and and her hair whipped back and forth as she struggled to deal with the assault on her belly.
“The way your stomach moves. I could imagine you undercover as a belly dancer in Istanbul, bewitching a room of heavy-breathing males with your sinuous movement.” Carla said in a thick voice. She worked her fingertips under the waist of Samantha’s jeans and made knuckles against the taut plain of her lower belly.
The leather cuffs creaked as Samantha almost arched up off the rack. Carla now plunged her thumbs into Samantha’s hip creases which brought forth a new howl of laughter. “This is one of the few areas where I can tickle myself; it gets everyone.”
She made a lobster claw and began pinching Samantha in the spot below her belt buckle. The bound operative bucked up and down, bouncing her butt off the leather padding. “Shit, that sucks, that really sucks.”
Carla pressed firmly down on her hips. She had found a great spot to exploit and was not going to be denied. “Quite the squirmer aren’t you?” Like a cat she hopped up onto the rack and straddled Samantha’s thighs, pressing her knees against her hips.
With her movement restricted Samantha was utterly helpless. The lobster clawing ceased and she felt Carla run her palms over her belly. “That’s it, take a breath now. Take a breath and think about what’s coming.”
...Cameroon...Canada...Cape Verde…
Samantha groaned as she felt a single fingernail move back and forth just above the waist of her jeans.
Another fingertip joined in, then another. The touch was light as a feather but the effect was far greater. Samantha’s stomach muscles clenched as the sensations pulsed through her.
“And I haven’t even touched your belly button yet.” Carla whispered.
For a moment the only sound in the room was Samantha’s ragged breathing and then Carla began to curl her fingers in a light clawing motion against the undulating plain of Samantha’s belly. The laughter began to bubble up. Samantha gulped and let it out.
The fingers sped up, exploring her and testing her reactions. Samantha laughed softly as Carla traced intricate patterns on her skin, all over her belly and ribs. In a bizarre way Samantha found this kind of touch to be enjoyable, if she could overlook the fact she was bound to a bondage rack.
Almost as if she sensed Samantha’s growing comfort, Carla switched tactics. She began lobster clawing the tops of Samantha’s thighs, just below her hips. The soft laughter quickly grew into a shriek and then a wail.
“Can’t let you get too comfortable.” She said, probing the firm muscle.
“Shit, shit, shit…” Samantha snorted with laughter and then her body was racked by silent mirth. The sound of Carla’s clinking bracelets filled the air.
One hand worked her hips while the other flew in and out of her armpits and up and down her sides.
“I love this, I want this.” Samantha was speaking out loud before she knew it.
...Central African Republic...Chad...Chile…
It was hard to focus with Carla’s relentless fingers. The tickling slowed and now a single digit lightly circled Samantha’s belly button.
“One must be very sensitive with the belly button. If I just poke it you’ll feel nothing but a mild sense of irritation but if I tease you lightly...”
Samantha’s hips rippled and she let out a strangled moan as the fingertip grew closer to the rim of her navel.
“One must be very soft.” Carla’s voice was barely a whisper. She blew gently around Samantha’s navel, her fingertip barely brushing the skin. Samantha was acutely aware of the heat of her body, every nerve ending was on alert.
Carla licked her lips and swirled the tip of her tongue around Samantha’s belly button. She planted a soft, sucking kiss above it, then all around it.
An liquid warmth built in Samantha’s belly.
China...Colombia…
Colombia, where it had all started. Don’t think about Colombia!
Carla’s tongue plunged into Samantha’s navel. Her lips smacked, her tongue swirled and Samantha moaned.
“Omigod…” Samantha had gone taut as a bowstring,
As quickly at it had been stoked, the sensual fire building in Samantha’s body was quenched and she dissolved into shrieking laughter as Carla blew raspberries in and around her navel.
The Latina wrapped her arms around Samantha’s waist to hold her in place. She made, ‘nom nom’ noises as she nibbled Samantha from hip to hip. She pulled her lips over her teeth and munched her ribs. She used the tip of her tongue to trace figure eights in her armpits and she even blew and nibbled on her neck and ears, causing the skin to redden before returning to her mouth-watering belly.
It felt like an eternity to Samantha as she was devoured by the sultry tickler.
Carla hunkered over Samantha, looking her in the eye. Both women were breathing hard. “I almost lost control there but I’ll allow myself the indulgence this once. Besides, I need to give you a little break again.
“So I can be nice and sensitive for you again?”
“And so you get to think about it of course. Anticipation.”
Samantha tried to blow strands of hair off her face to no avail. “Carla, would you mind getting this hair off my face. I have an itchy nose too.”
“Of course, darling.” Carla smoothed the hair away and lightly scratched Samantha’s nose. “Better?”
“Much.”
“I notice you’re not wearing one of your usual buckles today, Samantha. No secret knives, knock out gas, decoder wheels in this one.”
“I didn’t think I’d need it today. Call it a hunch.”
“This is a raven, a tribal design. Lovely workmanship.” She said, tracing her fingers over the engraving.”
Samantha chuckled. “I’m sure you know this given how leaky the local support infrastructure was but the operation I was on in Bogota was RAVEN SOLO. It seemed appropriate.”
Carla hooked her fingers in Samantha’s belt and waistband and tugged down on them and then plunged her face back down to her belly, blowing another series of loud, wet raspberries. She shook her head as she blew, sending Samantha into fresh hysterics. She looked up mischievously, “I’m sorry, Samantha, were you saying something?”
“Just how much you suck.” Samantha was still laughing at the surprise attack.
Carla arched her back and stretched like a cat. “I don’t know about you but I could eat. Shall we order some food.” She hopped off the rack and began undoing Samantha’s bonds.
Samantha was aware of a grumbling in her tummy that wasn’t a result of the tickling. She always forgot how exhausting being tied down and tickled could be. “What did you have in mind?”
“There’s an incredible Thai place that delivers. I’ll order.”
Samantha stood up rubbing her wrists. “This is an evening of surprises.”
“It’s not over yet.” Carla said as she led the way back upstairs and into a plush bedroom with a walk-in closet. “But first we need to do something about that bra. You have lovely breasts and that’s far too plain.”
“Arms out please.” She ran hands around Samantha’s back and then cupped her breasts. “Lovely, 34C. I have just the thing.”
“You could have just asked.” Samantha rolled her eyes.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Carla returned with an expensive looking bra with red and black lace detail. “Put this on.”
Samantha turned her back to Carla, slipped off her own bra and put on the one Carla had given her. She had to admit it was rather nice.
“You can’t decide whether to dress me up or undress me.” Samantha said.
Carla reached into a box and pulled out a black leather collar with a buckle fastening at the rear and a heavy chrome ring at the front.
“You have to be kidding.” Samantha sighed.
“You wanted to test yourself. It’s psychological as much as physical. If you put this on, it marks you as a slave. It changes the dynamic.”
Go big or go home, Samantha thought to herself. She pulled her hair out of the way as Carla fastened the collar around her neck. “Magnificent.”
However Samantha expected the two of them might meet again, it was definitely nothing like this.
Carla picked up a phone and punched in a number. “Hello, Spice House? I’d like to place an order.” She held the phone to her shoulder and mouthed to Samantha to fix some drinks for them.
Samantha went back to the bar in the lounge. She knew Carla wasn’t finished with her so she poured some fresh orange into two tumblers and added ice.
Carla returned looking Samantha up and down. She took the glass Samantha offered her. “Food will be here soon. Tom Yum Goong, green papaya salad, chicken satay and some bits we can pick at.”
Samantha’s stomach grumbled at the thought of the food.
“Wow, I heard that one,” Carla said, pressing a hand against Samantha’s tummy. “I’ll rub your shoulders while we wait.”
“Can I have my shirt back?”
“No.”
Carla really did have a magic touch. Samantha let herself get lost in the massage and then she heard a car pull up outside.
“Yum, here’s our food.” Carla said. “Would you get the door?”
“Dressed like this?” Samantha said.
“I’m sure you’ve had to use your charms in your work before.”
Fine, Samantha thought to herself. She was not going to be phased by this. She had been taught the arts of persuasion and seduction in her training. She fluffed up her hair into what Angela called her ‘just done the nasty’ look and did a slow, sway-hipped walk to the door. She pulled it open and saw a young guy with dark hair, a beard. He was wearing a punk band shirt and khaki cargo pants. He did a double take when he saw Samantha. He looked her up and down, he looked at her breasts and then back to her face.
Samantha smiled and did a slow bat of her eyelashes. “Hi, and who might you be?”
“Um, ah, well I’m food. I mean I got your food order. From the Spice House. I’m JT. Everyone calls me JT.” The guy didn’t know where to look.
“Hello JT, I’m Shauna. Pleasure to meet you.” Samantha held out her hand.
“Yeah, likewise.” JT said, shaking her hand. His eyes returned to her chest. Samantha never ceased to be amazed by how easily men could be manipulated by a nice pair of tits.
Carla appeared behind her and JT’s jaw nearly hit the floor. He was now faced with a shirtless goddess and a stunning Latina who looked like a femme fatale from one of those Telemundo shows. “Oh Shauna, is that the food?”
“It is, and this is JT.”
Carla slipped a hand around Samantha’s waist and held out her other hand. “Hello JT, I’m Carmen. Won’t you come in for a second?”
“Uh sure.” He grinned. He’d had fantasies like this and it was his last delivery of the night so why not. He followed the women into the house, his eyes roamed their bodies as he followed them. This was better than the Hub.
Carla took the bag of food from him. “That smells delicious. We’re famished so you arrived just in time.”
“Always happy to help a couple of damsels in distress.” He said with a nervous chuckle. “Nice”
“JT, I’d like to give you a tip. I can give you a nice crisp twenty or a mystery tip. But if you take the twenty you’ll never know what the mystery tip was.”
To JT his own heartbeat sounded deafening. A twenty was a nice tip but his curiosity got the better of him. He looked at the brunette in the sexy bra and the jeans. What was that belt buckle? Was she a cowgirl? And that collar, didn’t that mean she was into bondage or something. It was hot as fuck anyway. He looked back at the smouldering Latina with the come to bed eyes, leather pants and pin-up cleavage. “I’m gonna take a risk and take the mystery tip.”
“Wise decision.” Carla walked over to the drinks cabinet. Samantha frowned to herself. They hadn’t planned this one out. Carla returned with a long fluted bottle. “This is Don Julio 1942 Tequila, the best from my home country.”
“Wow, OK.” JT said. He didn’t know that much about Tequila but it looked expensive.
Carla walked over to him and slipped an arm around his shoulders. He could smell her perfume. Blood was rushing to his loins.
“Do you think my friend Shauna is attractive?”
“She’s gorgeous. I mean you both are. Stone cold foxes.” He said.
“Aw, thank you.” Samantha said, batting her eyelashes.
“Here’s a fun idea, why don’t take a shot of Tequila out of her belly button. Trust me it’s fun.” Carla said.
JT’s face lit up and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “Seriously? That sounds awesome.”
Samantha kept her smile in place but glared at Carla. What the hell?
“She gets a little squirmy so we’ll have to hold her down.” Carla said with a wink at Samantha. “Shauna, honey, be a darling and drape yourself on the bar. JT looks thirsty.”
To be continued...
And I don't even go for f/f....
