A warning. This story was written a commission. The commissioner wanted something that was more akin to a pulp thriller or horror tale which had kink elements rather than a story whose main purpose was kink or tickling. It's non-consensual with the goals of punishment and humiliation. It is not going to be to everyone's taste. If you're still interested, read on...
Munden’s Bar. Friday, 10.50pm
Jenny leaned across the bar to hear the guy’s order over the din of House of Pain doing ‘Jump Around’. His eyes flashed on the low-cut neck of her tight black tank top. “Can I get three Coronas, a Sam Adams for my buddy from Boston and a plate of wings?”
“We’re out of Sam Adams. We have Brooklyn Lager?”
“East Coast, close enough.” The guy grinned, his eyes flashed back to her chest.
“Alrighty,” Jenny pulled the four long necks from the fridge behind her, guessing the guy’s eyes were now on her denim-clad ass. She popped the caps off the bottles and lined them up for him. Took his table number and said the wings would be over shortly.
He tried to catch her eye again but she was already turning to serve an Asian girl with purple highlights waving a platinum credit card. Truth be told, the guy was kind of cute but Jenny wasn’t tending bar for the tips and chat-up lines.
Offices of The Weekly Examiner. One month ago, after lunch
Jennifer Ramsey, Jenny to her friends, stood in the office of her editor, Morgan Welch. She knew that Morgan typically started drinking his lunch around midday so it was best to catch him when he stumbled back into the office.
“Jennifer Ramsey, girl reporter, what can I do for you?” He said, regarding her through slightly bleary eyes, his hands folded across his straining shirtfront.
“It’s about the story I told you about. I have a lead.”
He waved her off, “Jenny, I know you want to run off and do your Lois Lane thing but you have to learn to walk before you can run. That’s why you’re on the socials. You give me 250 words on the weekend’s society wedding that doesn’t make me want to gouge my own eyes out with a pencil and we’ll see.”
Jenny shifted her weight from foot to foot. She thought the industrial quantity of alcohol he had consumed with his lunch would have made it an easier sell but Morgan was sharp as ever. She could have worn a tight low-cut blouse to make her pitch but he wasn’t going to fall for that either.
“Morgan, please. I have something this time.”
He regarded her for a moment then sighed. “You know who makes the best coffee round here? The Italian chick with the nose ring over at Giorgio’s. I could murder a double espresso if you’re buying. You have the time it takes to get there and back to sell me on this idea.”
Jenny’s eyes must have lit up because Morgan heaved himself out of his chair and shrugged into his rumpled jacket.
And so over a double espresso for him and non-fat latte for her, Jenny told Morgan about the work she had been doing on the whispers around a BDSM underworld that had branches across the country and was where the real decisions were made. She laid out the network she has been probing on her own time and how many prominent personalities were either complicit or compromised.
Morgan drained the last of his coffee and tossed the cup in a trashcan. “Alright, I think you’re onto something and it wouldn’t surprise me if tax cuts and healthcare were decided at some messed up Eyes Wide Shut party but even if you can expose it, what good would it do? The people you’re talking about could shut us down in a heartbeat. At best you uncover the new Bohemian Grove, at worst we disappear. These aren’t people to be taken lightly.”
Jenny could tell he was curious. “Sunlight is the best disinfectant though, right?”
The editor scratched the stubble on his chin. “You kids watch ‘All The President’s Men’ or ‘Spotlight’ and think you’re going to save the world.” He sighed. “And you think there’s some link with this bar called Munden’s? I know that place, it’s not the worst shithole going but it’s not where the Mayor hangs out either. Seems unlikely.
“The name Munden came up twice and the bar is the only place in the city I could find. Best I can come up with is Munden’s is some kind of dead drop or a place where connections are made and meetings set. I think they picked Munden’s exactly because it’s not the kind of place these people go.”
“Hiding in plain sight? I could insult your intelligence by saying you can’t just walk in and ask if anyone knows where the millionaire Spanky McGangbang parties are, but I won’t.”
“Nope but they’re looking for bar staff. I tended bar in college. I have the experience. I get a job there and keep my ear to the ground. It would be a temporary thing.”
“You want to go undercover? I don’t like it.” Morgan said. “That could put you in danger. It’s not a game like on TV, not with the kind of people you’re talking about. So here’s the deal, when you’re in the place you call me at the beginning and end of each shift. No buts. You miss a call, I send in the cavalry.”
“Thank you.” Jenny nearly danced for joy. “One month, give me a month. If it’s a dry hole I’ll cover every damn society wedding, fundraiser and PTA meeting you want.”
“I must want my head examined.” Morgan shook his head and then the donut shop across the street caught his eye. “I’d give my right nut for a chocolate frosted right now.”
Munden’s Bar. Friday, 11.10pm
The cute guy had come back to the bar and tried to hit on Jenny. She could see his friends snickering to themselves as they tried to pretend they weren’t watching.
She’d turned him down with a smile saying her boyfriend wouldn’t approve. It happened a few times a week, sometimes it was flattering, sometimes it was creepy and on one occasion a guy had given her such bad vibes she’d caught the eye of Cody, the ex-Marine bouncer who had slipped off his stool and persuaded the guy to leave. Cody wasn’t all that big but he had a way of bringing people around to his point of view.
Jenny was beginning to think Munden’s was a false lead. She’d been working there for three weeks now and the initial excitement of being undercover had worn off. It was just like tending bar back in college. As an attractive brunette with an easy smile and a quick wit, she did well in tips but that wasn’t why she was there. One more week and it was back to covering garden parties and weddings.
“Hey sweetheart, how about a little service over here?” The voice that jolted her out of her thoughts was rough from too many cigarettes and too much whisky. She turned to see a stocky man with a weather-beaten face and broad soldiers. His coarse hair was brushed back off his forehead and he had thick, scarred hands. “Guy could die of thirst over here.”
His stare was pure acid and Jenny looked towards the door but Cody wasn’t working tonight, instead it was a newer guy she didn’t know and he was chatting to a svelte Latina in a leather skirt.
She turned back. “Sorry, what can I get you?”
“A piece like you can get it all.” He looked her up and down in a way that almost made her recoil.
“Play nice, Ralphie.” A tall dark-haired woman placed a hand on his forearm. The two were a stark contrast. Whilst Ralphie was a panting bulldog in human form, she had the dark elegance of one of those seductive vampires that featured on the covers of dark romance novels. Not that Jenny let anyone know about her guilty reading pleasures.
The Vamp smiled at Jenny. “What’s your name?”
“Jennifer. But people call me Jenny.”
“Charmed, I’m Kamelia. Ralphie will have the cheapest nastiest beer in the house with a whisky chaser and I’ve have a Bloody Mary. Extra Bloody. We’ll be at table seven.”
“Coming right up.” Jenny said.
Ralphie blew her a kiss as they moved to the table.
Despite Ralphie’s repellent character, Jenny felt a surge of excitement. These two weren’t the usual clientele at Munden’s. Kamelia even looked like a dominatrix with the long black hair in a high ponytail and the leather boots.
She fixed the drinks and took them to table seven. “Here you go, folks.”
Kamelia had a phone on the table and was showing Ralphie something. Jenny caught a fleeting glimpse of a white-haired man sitting in an open velvet robe. He wore black gloves and held a riding crop in one hand. A blonde woman wearing a dog collar and spiked heels knelt between his legs.
Jenny felt a surge of adrenaline. Ralphie and the vamp had to be linked to this BDSM underground. Kamelia quickly locked her phone screen.
“Uh, can I get you guys anything else?”
“That will be all, thank you.” Kamelia said.
Ralphie hooked a finger in Jenny’s studded punk belt and pulled her towards him. He peeled off a pair of twenties, kissed them and pressed them just inside the waistband of her jeans. Jenny cringed as his fingers rubbed against her waist.
“Keep the change, babe.” He said.
“Thanks.” Jenny turned on her heel and heard them chuckling at her momentary discomfort. She didn’t care though. This was it - she finally had a concrete lead. She had to let Morgan know.
She served a couple more customers and then motioned to a fellow bartender that she needed a couple of minutes. She slipped down to a rear corridor that only staff could access, she would not be disturbed here. She pulled out her phone and called Morgan on his landline at home.
“You done for the night already?” He said on picking up the phone.
“No, hey how did you know it was me?”
“Who else calls me this time of night?”
“Oh right, anyway listen, I have something. These two characters came in tonight, they’re connected to this whole thing. I can feel it.”
“Slow down, take me through it.”
Jenny began telling him about Ralphie and Kamelia but could suddenly hear a loud percussive sound on the other end of the line.
“For Pete’s sake, who comes calling at this time of night?” He muttered. “Hang on, Jenny. Someone at the front door.”
Jenny heard him put the handset down and walk off. She tapped her foot impatiently, she needed to get back and keep tabs on Ralphie and the vamp.
She heard Morgan answer the door. Words were exchanged and then she heard Morgan shout, “Hey!” There were some other sounds and then there was quiet.
“Morgan, are you there? Are you OK? Hello?”
Jenny heard footsteps and then someone picked up the receiver. “Morgan, is that you? What happened?”
She could hear breathing but whoever was on the other end of the line didn’t speak, they simply replaced the handset. Jenny felt a shiver run down her spine.
A voice from the other end of the corridor made her jump. “Shouldn’t go poking your nose where it’s not wanted.”
Jenny looked up to see Kamelia regarding her the way a cat looks at a wounded bird.
An arm wrapped around her waist from behind and then a foul-smelling cloth was clamped hard over her nose and mouth, jamming her head backwards. Even through the cloth she could smell odours of old sweat and tobacco. Ralphie.
She struggled in his grasp but he was much stronger and she was growing dizzy from the fumes.
Ralphie’s lips brushed against her ear. “Say ‘g’night’, Gracie.”
She could hear Kamelia laughing.
And then everything went black.
Unknown location. After midnight
Jenny groaned as she regained control of her faculties, only to realise that her hands and feet were bound and she was blindfolded. Cold dread ran through her.
“Hey Kamelia, sleeping beauty’s awake.” She recognised Ralphie’s voice.
“Do you need to be sick?” It was the vamp. Jenny guessed this was Kamelia.
“Where am I?”
A plastic bottle was forced between her lips. “It’s water, drink, rinse, spit. Do what you have to.”
Jenny had fierce cotton mouth and drank until the bottle was yanked away. “Where am I?” She tried to keep the shake out of her voice.
“Somewhere safe and private.” Kamelia said.
The blindfold was pulled off and Jenny blinked into the low light. She was sitting on a folding chair. Ralphie leaned against a wall smoking a cigarette. Kamelia towered over her in a belted raincoat and spiked heels.
“Let me go and I swear I won’t breathe a word of this. You don’t have to hurt me.”
Kamelia smiled. “We’re not going to hurt you, just teach you a little lesson.”
“I’m just a bartender..” Jenny said, trying to brazen it out.
Kamelia smoothed Jenny’s hair out of her face. “You work for the Weekly Examiner and you’re sticking your pretty little nose where it isn’t wanted.”
Jenny jerked her head away, she saw there was no point in keeping up the subterfuge. “There are people who know where I am and if I don’t call-”
“Morgan Welch is the only person who knows what you’re doing and he can’t help you right now.”
Jenny’s stomach lurched. “Where is he?”
“You should be more concerned about yourself.” Kamelia held up a large red ballgag. “Open wide.”
“Fuck you.” Jenny fought back tears.
Kamelia laughed, “OK, I’ll leave the room and let Ralphie gag you.”
“Gimme ten minutes alone with her, in fact make it fifteen.” Ralphie said.
Jenny reluctantly opened her mouth and gasped as the red rubber ball was forced past her lips and buckled into place.
“Beautiful,” Kamelia said, surveying her work. She turned to Ralphie. “Bring her.”
Jenny protested into her gag as Ralphie uncuffed her and effortlessly lifted her over his shoulder. He followed Kamelia down a dimly lit hallway, his hand stroking Jenny’s denim-clad thighs.
They went up a few steps onto a small platform with a curtain ahead of it. When Ralphie turned around Jenny saw what they had planned for her.
There was a metal frame with a high seat padded with crimson leather. Legs extended out below the seat at a ninety degree angle. The legs were also padded leather and had thick black leather straps bolted to them. The seat was high backed with padded arms going out to the sides. It was some kind of bondage device that spread the arms and legs of whoever was strapped into it.
“On three,” Kamelia said. In unison she and Ralphie began to count. “One, two, three.”
Limb by limb Jenny was strapped into the bondage chair. The pair had clearly done this before and thwarted Jenny’s frantic struggling with ease. Even though she was still clothed, the young reporter felt horribly exposed.
Kamelia opened her trenchcoat now and handed it to Ralphie. She was wearing a PVC bustier that displayed an impressive cleavage along with a pair of tight, leather leggings that disappeared into spike heeled boots. Ralphie handed her a black leather domino mask which covered her face from her forehead to the bottom of her nose. “How do I look?”
“Like a fucking goddess.” Ralphie said.
Kamelia giggled, “And how does she look?”
He looked Jenny up and down in a way that made her feel naked. “Built for fucking.”
Jenny suddenly felt the urge to vomit again. Ralphie saw her reaction and laughed. “Another time, maybe me and her coulda been close.” He looked at his phone. “Alright they’re here. I’ll see you after.”
He walked off into the darkness leaving Jenny with more questions. Who was here? After what?
Kamelia looked over her shoulder at her. “Haven’t you figured it out yet sweetheart? You didn’t just stumble on our little society. Tonight you’re going to be the main attraction.” She turned back as the curtain was raised.
Jenny blinked at the light. She could make out silhouettes of people at tables. What the hell was going on here? She could hear blood crashing in her ears. Was this some kind of torture porn live show? It was so outlandish she could barely even conceive of the idea.
Kamelia adjusted a small microphone over her ear and struck a pose. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming. I am your host Mistress Kamelia and we have a very special show for you tonight.
“The mouth-watering slut behind me, bound and gagged for your delectation and delight, is going to help me demonstrate the fine art of tickle torture.”
Jenny shook her head. Had she heard that right? Tickle torture? What kind of nonsense was that? Her college boyfriend had sometimes tickled her as a prelude to a make out session before trying to get into her pants, but torture. This made no sense.
“I can see some of you are not convinced,” Kamelia said. “You think of tickling as play, but you would be mistaken. Extreme tickling has been used in Asia and Europe throughout history as a punishment or interrogation technique that left no marks.
“It can cause anguish and mental distress, shortness of breath and unconsciousness. A subject may lose control of their bladder and in some cases they can become sexually aroused which opens up other avenues for torment.”
Kamelia gave the audience a sultry over the shoulder look. “I can assure you that I always become sexually aroused, especially when I have a pretty little slut to play with.”
Jenny reeled. This was medieval kinky nastiness. She pulled at her bondage and although the leather creaked, it refused to budge. A few of the patrons chuckled in anticipation. She saw the red glow of a cigar in the darkness.
“I’m sure some of you still have doubts but I’ll put those to rest very quickly. So let’s tickle torture this little slut.” She turned to Jenny, and through the mask her eyes flashed with dark hunger.
Kamelia walked to the front of the stage, “When I was a teenager I had a cousin named Evie, a redhead whose milkshake brought all the boys to the yard.” She cupped her breasts and did a little shimmy to the amusement of the patrons.
“I found out she was fucking my boyfriend so we tussled. I ended up straddling her, pinning her arms to her side and discovering just how much fun it could be to tickle torture someone. By the time I was done she was blubbering away and there was a big wet stain on her denim cut offs.” She turned and gave the audience a sultry over the shoulder look. “Wanna see how I did it?”
The audience barked its approval. Jenny was a helpless spectator in all this. She growled into her gag and tore at the straps binding her arms and legs.
She heard a sound to her left and saw a tanned woman push a small trolley onto the stage. She had an incredible body and wore a skimpy black thong and black stilettos. A blonde ponytail hung down her back but her face was covered with a white rabbit-eared mask. It had black Xs for eyes and black duct tape where the mouth would have been. She paused to stare wordlessly at Jenny. The overall effect was disconcerting.
Kamelia sauntered to the table and picked up a long, thin object which she held up to the crowd. “A simple grass stalk but wait until you see what I can do with it.”
She spun towards Jenny and wrapped an arm around her neck, holding her head. Jenny’s eyes were wide and she was breathing hard.
“Mpphk Uhf,” she mumbled around her gag. Her heart was hammering in her chest. It’s just a grass stalk! It’s just tickling. She kept repeating that to herself but it didn’t help.
Kamelia placed the tip of the stalk on the delicate shell of Jenny’s ear and flicked it.
Jenny gasped into her gag. It itched, it tickled. She shook her head to clear the sensation. Kamelia flicked it again.
The crowd was silent now. Jenny was aware of her image being projected onto screens around the wall from different angles.
“Hold still, slut.” Kamelia said. Now she dragged the grass stalk slowly around Jenny’s ear, flicking and stroking. Jenny yelped and tried to pull her head away but the dominatrix was holding her tight.
Jenny remembered how she’d curl up when her boyfriend blew softly on her ear. This was immeasurably worse. She had no way of shrinking away. One side of her head was pressed into Kamelia’s cleavage as the other was tormented, the grass stalk flickering up and down her neck before returning to her ear.
It tingled and all Jenny wanted to do was rub her skin vigorously to erase the sensation. Her restraints held fast while Kamelia spun the stalk in her ear and made her squeal.
“The slut’s a squirmer.” Kamelia said to the audience as she danced the grass stalk from ear to ear. “Those who lack imagination would probably go straight for the feet but the ears are very sensitive to this kind of torment. So is the nose.”
Jenny shrieked as the stalk began to play around her nostrils even poking and twirling inside which made her want to sneeze. She tried jerking her head up but Kamelia maintained a firm grasp around her head and she had nowhere to go.
“Who’s a ticklish little slut?” Kamelia chanted as she moved the stalk from ear to ear and back to the nose before dancing under her chin.
Jenny was crying tears of frustration now. She could almost feel her nerve endings throb. It was just a grass stalk. How could it be so awful?
After a few more minutes Kamelia looked at the grass stalk which was now saggy and drooping. “Well I guess that’s the end of that.” She tossed it aside.
Jenny blinked at her through her tears. She wanted to put her boot through this bitch’s face.
Kamelia smiled at her. “Messy little slut aren’t you? You’re drooling everywhere.” She leaned forward and licked a drop of saliva from the curve of Jenny’s chest. Her tongue tracked a path , along her throat and around her gagged lips before gently sucking on the red ball that separated them.
The turn from sadism to sensuality nearly made Jenny’s head spin. She caught a close up of Kamelia’s tongue moving up her neck on one of the screens at the side of the stage.
“How does she taste?” A voice called out from the audience.
Kamelia licked her lips. “Like a peach.”
Jenny stared at Kamelia with raw hatred but the dominatrix was ignoring her. Her focus was back on the crowd.
“I can feel some of you getting excited from over here but trust me, I’m not even warmed up yet.”
Jenny’s jaw ached from biting down hard on the ballgag. The itching the grass had created lingered like a ghost, as if she was still being teased. Was tickle torture real? How bad could this get?
She looked on warily as Kamelia rounded on her with a slow, sway-hipped walk. She tried to jerk her head away as the dominatrix ran her fingers through her hair.
Kamelia’s eyes hardened. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll play along. You get cute in anyway and this evening is not going to go well for you. Understand?”
The radiant smile was back in place but the sudden change shook Jenny to her core.
“Would you like to hear what kind of noises the slut makes when she isn’t gagged?” Kamelia asked. There was a chorus of agreement from the seething audience.
Jenny felt nimble fingers unbuckle the gag and cast it aside. She worked her jaw around and licked her lips. She was suddenly very thirsty.
“What am I going to do with you next?” Kamelia said, flexing her red fingernails.
A few choice retorts were on the tip of Jenny’s tongue but she knew she was in no position to back it up. She glowered at the towering domme. She hated the way Kamelia kept referring to her as the slut. She knew it was just a tactic to get under skin but it was starting to work.
Kamelia addressed the audience, “This may be news to some of you but there is a thriving market for clips on the internet where young women agree to have their bodies tickled on camera for a fee. Of course there are release forms and chaperones and all that boring shit. But what you’re going to see now is what that looks like with no consent, no release forms and no safe words. This is going to be raw.”
Jenny could almost feel the lust coming from the patrons in waves. She screwed her eyes shut and tried to focus inwardly as her leather-clad Vellicatrix worked the crowd with her plans.
“I can’t believe this is happening. How the fuck did I end up here?” Jenny muttered to herself.
“Hey,” Kamelia was snapping her fingers in Jenny’s face. “Pay attention, slut. I was telling these fine ladies and gentlemen what they’re getting. I hope you’re ready to put on a good show because I am.”
She grabbed Jenny’s face in her hands and kissed her hard on the mouth before licking her lips. Jenny gasped in shock and her tormentor kissed her lips and cheeks, leaving lipstick marks on her.
“Get off me!” Jenny’s red-smeared face was projected onto the screens to polite applause from the crowd.
“I’ve marked you, slut.” Kamelia gloated. “That means you belong to me now. Body and soul.”
“No you don’t.” Jenny said. It wasn’t much of a comeback.
Kamelia smiled like a shark, baring her perfect white teeth. She spun back towards the audience. “A lot of things can happen when you really work a tickle slut over. They can find it hard to breathe and pass out. They can pee themselves. Sometimes, the real sluts love it and you can make them squirt. I don’t know what this one is going to do but we’ll have fun finding out. Can I get a countdown of five?”
Kamelia moved behind Jenny and licked her ear as the crowd counted down. “Ready slut?”
“FIVE.”
“You’re sick. You’re all sick.”
“FOUR.”
“No we’re just honest about who we are and what we want.”
“THREE.”
“You won’t get away with this.”
“TWO.”
“Oh honey, we already did.”
“ONE.”
Jenny opened her mouth to retort but Kamelia began curling fingertips in the smooth hollows of her armpits. The trapped reporter gasped as the flickering fingernails set her nerve endings on fire.
“Oh God! No!” She said, a note of desperation coming out in her voice. She thrashed side to side in her bondage, the leather creaked, the bolts groaned but there was no give.
Kamelia giggled softly in her ear. “That’s it, fight it.. I love a slut with spirit.”
Jenny couldn’t hear her though. The sensation in her underarms was maddening, the worst itching sensation she had ever felt. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t pull her arms down. She felt on the verge of panic and beads of perspiration pricked her hairline.
“I own you.” Kamelia’s breath was hot on her neck.
Jenny let out a wordless scream which collapsed into an anguished laugh. She could see herself blown up on screens around the room. Her tear streaked face, her jiggling body, Kamelia’s nails spidering in her sensitive hollows.
Light briefly illuminated audience members. A grey-haired man watching through ornate opera glasses, his face a rictus grin. A silver-haired matriarch with a young shirtless man bound across her lap. A character with a thick black desperado moustache looked on with glee. A blonde woman in a black basque and fishnets knelt between his legs, her head bobbing up and down.
The perverted tableau made Jenny want to retch as she wailed and thrashed in her bondage.
Kamelia’s fingers walked down Jenny’s chest. “What have we here? there’s I bet there’s a sexy body underneath this.” She pulled Jenny’s top from her jeans and jerked it up and over her head.
Jenny saw her body exposed to the glare of the lights. She could almost feel the spectators breathe harder as she was projected up on the screens. One showed a close up of her breasts, having in a white bra with black polka dots. Another caught the sinuous movement of her flat belly.
“I’m gonna have fun with you.” Kamelia said. She dug her fingers up and down Jenny’s ribs which brought forth a fresh round of anguished wailing. It was clear to all that only one of these women was having a good time.
Kamelia squeezed and poked, coaxing more helpless screeching from her captive. “You got a really nice body, slut. You please me.”
A peal of anguished laughter was ripped from Jenny’s throat as Kamelia knuckled the spaces between her ribs.
The light slashed across the crowd. The man with the opera glasses had one hand in his pants. The matriarch had bared her boy toy’s buttocks and was spanking them hard. Desperado held the blonde’s head in place as it bobbed faster and faster between his thighs. All of them were laser locked on Jenny’s ticklish plight.
“Koochie koo, who’s a tickly little slut?” Kamelia said as if talking to a child. She was working the muscles of Jenny’s waist with hard, rhythmic squeezing. The fingers oozed below her belt and squeezed her hips.
“Oh God,” Jenny wailed. She squeezed her eyes closed as if that might help.
“God isn’t allowed down here,” Kamelia said as she nibbled Jenny’s neck. “We serve other powers here.” Her fingers came together to poke Jenny’s lower belly and probe the edges of her underwear.
“Please, I’m sorry.” Jenny cried. “You don’t have to do this.” She tensed her stomach muscles but that just made it worse.
“I want to though. And I haven’t even bared your feet yet. In fact there’s a thought.” The domme clicked her fingers and the blonde girl in the rabbit mask reappeared. Kamelia tapped one of Jenny’s ankle boots. “As I taught you, Rabbit.”
Rabbit nodded and with great ceremony removed Jenny’s boots and socks, baring her shapely size seven feet.
“What’s she going to do?” Jenny said. Her head darted side from side as the blonde returned with the trolley of instruments.
“Is that an edge of hysteria I can hear in your voice?” She poked Jenny’s armpits and her ribs, she snapped her bra strap. “She’s going to do exactly what I want her to do and you’re going to enjoy it.”
Rabbit held up a thick, stiff leather strap to the crowd and then began to swat Jenny’s bare soles with it.
“Shit, stop it. Stop it you freakshow bitch.” Jenny said, flinching with each slap.
The wet sounds of approval from the crowd made no secret of their enjoyment of the spectacle.
“Let’s see if I can take your mind off it.” Kamelia began working Jenny’s upper body with her tireless fingers. Stroking and squeezing. Prodding and poking.
Jenny continued to flinch as the strap licked at her smooth soles and now she let out something like a strangled growl of frustration which turned into a keening wail as fingers flew over her body. Her soles stung and through tears of frustration Jenny saw Rabbit put the strap away and pick up a bottle of oil.
Kamelia sank her teeth into the juncture of Jenny’s shoulder and neck. The bite was firm but not painful. She merely held the reporter in place as she tormented her. As her fingers moved from waist, to ribs, to pits she would boldly cup and squeeze Jenny’s breasts.
“Why are you doing this?” Jenny cried out, much to the amusement of the crowd.Kamelia continued to suck on her neck.
Rabbit was working the oil into Jenny’s soles which made her gasp. The masked woman had surprisingly strong hands and parted Jenny’s toes to make sure the oil went everywhere.
Kamelia slid her hands into Jenny’s bra and softly pinched her nipples. The bound reporter cried out in protest as Rabbit took a hairdryer and began heating the oil on her feet.
“Nice tits, slut.” Kamelia lickied drool from Jenny’s neck. She worked the girl’s ribs, coaxing the laughter from her lungs, making her ache from reluctant mirth. The dominatrix reached for a tube of cream and addressed the audience. “When you’re tickling a slut, sometimes her nipples get hard, and maybe her panties get a little wet. But this slut doesn’t seem to be enjoying herself yet. This is a tube of cooling gel with a nice minty aroma. In a pinch toothpaste works just as well.”
Works just as well for what? Jenny asked herself. Kamelia rubbed some of the gel between her fingertips and then reached inside Jenny’s bra again. The reporter gasped as the cool gel shocked her nipples.
“Oh now she’s perking up.” Kamelia said as she rolled the nipples back and forth between her fingers.
The man with the opera glasses said, “Let’s have a look, Lady K. Don’t keep us in suspense.”
Kamelia peeled down the cups of Jenny’s bra, baring her breasts to the eyes of the audience and to the hidden cameras which projected them onto the screens. Jenny’s cheeks burned as she saw Kamelia’s fingertips rolling her nipples back and forth. Voices in the audience called out suggestions, none of them pleasant.
“Humiliation is another delicious ingredient in the recipe for good tickle torture,” Kamelia sang. “A good tickler will be sure to cover both the physical and the psychological.” She unhooked Jenny’s bra and pulled it over her head. “Let’s give these beauties some air shall we?”
The domme’s fingers were back on her ribs now, probing and kneading. Jenny cried with anguish and involuntary laughter. She was living a nightmare as the women had their way with her. She had nearly laughed when Kamelia said she was going to tickle. She could never have imagined something so humiliating and mean-spirited. Bound, exposed and used for an audience of the rich and depraved. She just wanted it to be over. She’d do anything for it to be over.
Her soles throbbed as Rabbit played the hairdryer over them. They were already tingling from the oil and this made it worse.
Kamelia began slapping Jenny’s quivering stomach. “A little pink belly for the slut.”
“Please, no more, I can’t take any more.” Jenny begged.
This just spurred Kamelia on until a pink blush spread across the reporter’s stomach. She then began dragging her fingernails over the smooth flesh in flowery patterns that made Jenny twitch and gasp. Jenny’s hips were switching back and forth and she bounced up and down on the padded chair.
“Oh stop wriggling so much,” Kamelia chided her. She wrapped an arm around Jenny’s waist and then grabbed her through the crotch of her jeans and squeezed.
Jenny let out a squeal of shock as Kamelia rubbed her face on her stomach and began blowing raspberries, drilling her belly button with her sharp tongue.
All the while Rabbit continued to play the hair dryer over Jenny’s tingling feet.
Kamelia eventually came up for air and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “There, I bet that took the wind out of your sails didn’t it.” She gave Jenny’s glistening belly another slap and then went to join Rabbit.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure you know that the feet have the longest nerve endings in the body and on many people they are excruciatingly ticklish. Just in case the slut or slave isn’t so ticklish, rubbish this oil into their soles and then applying a heat source”
Jenny was exhausted as she listened to this. Her ribs and stomach ached from laughter, her throat was hoarse, and she felt as if she been through a heavy gym class. She didn’t know what was worse: Kamelia with her black hair, leather and cleavage, the blonde with the swimsuit model body and creepy mask or the salivating audience.
Kamelia looked at her in a way that made her shudder and then in appalling synchronicity, both Kamelia and the rabbit pulled back on Jenny’s big toes and dragged their fingernails along her arches.
Jerking as if she had been electrocuted, Jenny let out a quavering wail to the delight of the onlookers. For some reason the synchronised tickling from her two tormentors made her feel very small and at the mercy of something very big; this wasn’t their first time torturing someone in this fashion, they had honed their skills to the point they didn’t even need to look at each other.
Jenny’s soles were projected up onto the screens along with her tear-streaked face. Her brown hair was a wild mess. The audience practically drooled. Jenny didn’t care, she wailed and shrieked and tore at her bonds while her two tormentors raked her soles and teased her toes.
She begged for them to stop. They took her toes into their mouths. She caught a glimpse of full red lips under Rabbit’s mask. Now she had to deal with their tongues and fingers. Lightning bolts of sensation shot up her legs. The sensual, adoring mouths contrasting wildly with the wicked, merciless fingernails.
“Please, I’ll do anything! Just make it stop.” She screamed, no longer caring that she was stripped to the waist and exposed to the tittering audience. They enjoyed her predicament. The tickling continued.
“Look at the distress,” Kamelia said. “All this just from a little tickling. We’re just playing a little koochie-koo with her and she’s about to fall apart. I swear that sometimes, you can almost hear the moment when they crack.”
Their nails on her soles, their tongues lashing her toes and now the other hands were working their way up her legs, pinching her knees and the firm muscle of her thighs.
Jenny’s head hung on her chest, bouncing in silent laughter. She could no longer muster the energy to resist. Her ribs ached, she was trembling, the salt from her tears and perspiration was salty on her tongue. She had all the strength of a wet noodle.
“Why?” She said through sniffles. The women tormenting her dug their thumbs into her hip creases which momentarily made her throw her head up and arch her back. One of the screens started running a loop of her glistening breasts thrusting outwards, her mouth parted orgasmically.
Rabbit was sitting on the floor now, running her fingernails over both of Jenny’s soles while Kamelia returned once more to her hips, ribs and pits.
The two women working in tandem on different parts of her body was the worst thing she had experienced so far. They were like a pair of well-practiced bullies, seeming to know exactly when one should reduce their intensity as the other increased.
Jenny was hysterical. “No stop, I can’t take it. Please stop, I can’t breathe. Mercy.” Her voice came out as an urgent screech. Her vision blurred from the tears and sweat ran into her eyes. She struggled for air, gulping in breaths in between her tormented squeals.
Oh my god, they’re not going to stop. They’re actually trying to kill me! She thought to herself.
Panic set in as her system went into full fight or flight mode. But the bondage meant she could neither fight or flight. So she thrashed and screamed and wailed as her voice grew hoarse and the adrenaline crashed and she had nothing but exhaustion.
Her body no longer responded to her commands to fight and she slumped in her bondage, sobbing silently in rage and humiliation as Kamelia and Rabbit continued to tickle her.
“Aw it’s no fine when they stop struggling.” Kamelia pinched Jenny’s waist and cheek to little reaction. “I think we broke her.”
Kamelia turned to the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see the right combination of bondage and sensory stimulation provides a most effective and satisfying way to torture a wayward slut or punish an impudent sub-boy without ever leaving a mark on them. Although I can promise you they will never forget it.”
The audience rose to their feet and applauded. Jenny looked up slightly and was appalled to see some of the men had erections on display. She shuddered to think of them masturbating while they watched her ordeal.
Jenny felt silly, she felt ashamed. It was just tickling but she had been completely wrecked. No, she understood it was more than that. She had been methodically and mercilessly disarmed and dismantled.
Oh how she had underestimated the cabal she had sought to investigate. Those dreams of accepting a Pulitzer or being interviewed on prestigious current affairs shows felt like the fantasies of a silly little girl.
“This concludes tonight’s demonstration, ladies and gentlemen. If you would like to make your way to the pleasure rooms, you will find suitable entertainment ready to cater to your every whim.”
There it was. The story Jenny was after. Only the story was walking out of the room while she was half naked and strapped down by two sadistic BDSM freaks. The fact that she had been proved absolutely right in her suspicions was scant consolation.
Kamelia smoothed the hair back from Jenny’s face. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson now, slut. We’ve recorded every moment of your performance here. If you even glance in our direction after this we’ll send images and maybe a little choice footage to your parents, your colleagues, your boyfriend, your exes. We’ve done this before, we can destroy you. Do you understand.”
Jenny turned away from Kamelia but the domme seized her chin and forced her to meet her gaze. “Do. You. Understand?”
Breathing hard through her nostrils Jenny nearly choked on her reply. “Yes.”
Kamelia’s eyes softened and she beamed at Jenny. She leaned in and kissed her warmly on the mouth. “I’m very glad to hear you say that. There’s one last thing we’re going to do first though.” She snapped her fingers, “Rabbit, let’s get her set up.”
“Set up? Set up for what? Oh please, you can’t do anything more to me. I’ve agreed to keep my mouth shut.”
“Rabbit and I? We aren’t going to do anything to you.”
The two women were turning cranks and levers on the bondage chair, moving Jenny into a reclining position, her legs and arms slightly spread until she formed an ‘X’ position. A soft padded strap around her forehead fixed her head to the backrest.
“I get it, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Just let me go.” Jenny said.
Rabbit was wheeling around the trolley of sex toys and tickling implements.
“You’ve done everything to me. You’ve humiliated me and you’ve filmed it. You win.” There was a note of desperation creeping into her voice.
Kamelia stroked her cheek. “If you want the truth, honey, I barely touched you. If it was up to me I’d have you naked, screaming, impaled on a dildo, squirting and bowing down before me. But we’re on the clock here and you’ve been a big hit tonight so…”
She let the last word hang as Jenny heard footsteps. She craned up to see who was coming but the strap on her forehead limited her movement.
A chill hit her stomach as she saw Opera Glasses, Desperado and the Matriarch loom over her, leering down at her body.
“Even better up close.” Opera Glasses said in a thick voice.
“I want it. How much is it?” The Matriarch groaned.
“I’m sorry but the slut is not for sale. She’s here for one night only so please make the most of her.”
“What the fuck?” Jenny eyes bugged out. “No no no no, you said I had to agree to keep my mouth shut and I did. Fuck this, let me up, let me up right now.”
Desperado suddenly snatched up a foam ball from the trolley and jammed it roughly between her teeth, muffling her protests. “That should keep her quiet for a little. They’re so boring when all they do is complain.” He smoothed two strips of duct tape over her lips, keeping the ball in place. Jenny gagged against the dry ball in her mouth.
“As you wish.” Kamelia said with a slight deferential bow of the head.
Opera Glasses held up a black leather blindfold, “And I believe that removing the sense of sight will enhance the slut’s tactile sense.”
“You’ve learned your lessons well I see.” Kamelia said.
“I had a fine teacher.” Opera Glasses said, his jowls flapping with his laughter. He pulled the blindfold into place, stealing Jenny’s sight.
The young woman could feel her heart pounding in her chest. No, this couldn’t be happening again. They’d taken everything already, or so she thought. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream. She could hear her tormentors casually discussing what they were going to do to her.
“I shall start with these wonderful feet. Some edible lotion and then some loving attention.” Opera Glasses said.
“Couldn’t take my eyes off her body when Kamelia was working her. I think I will indulge myself with these pits, ribs and delicious belly. And these wonderful tits.” Desperado said.
“Kamelia, dear. I think you forgot something.” The Matriarch ran her hand up Jenny’s inner thigh and squeezed hard, making the young woman yelp into her gag.
“On the contrary, I wanted to leave some treasures for you to discover.” Kamelia replied.
Jenny’s soul howled with anguish.She was just an object, a thing to be used.
She felt fruity smelling lotion being rubbed into her soles and between her toes. A firm hand clamped down on her bicep and the tip of a small paintbrush ran down her arm and into her underarm before gliding across her chest to flick her nipples. There was a tugging at her waist and then her belt was jerked open, her zipper pulled down and her jeans parted.
The Matriarch pushed her nose into the open denim and inhaled deeply. “She’s ripe for plucking.”
Under Kamelia’s direction and guidance the fingers, tongues and tools applied themselves to Jenny’s body in a bid to inflict the most ticklish torment possible.
“Five thousand says she submits to me first.” The Matriarch.
“I like it, let’s make it ten.” Opera Glasses said.
“Fine by me. We’ll get her warmed up together and then take a session each. Let’s say thirty minutes.” Desperado said. “Whoever gets her to submit first gets her to themselves for the night. Deal?”
Opera Glasses and The Matriarch agreed.
So she was the object of a bet now? It was so humiliating that Jenny didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So she did both. Her anguished sobs and moans delighted the perverted patrons who were now exploiting her body.
She yelped as her waist was pinched and fingers dug into her ribs. Her new tormentors may have lacked Kamelia’s finesse but not her enthusiasm.
“Not so hard there. That’s it, gently. Make her nerve endings respond. Glide those fingertips.” Kamelia coached from the sides. “With the right touch you can keep a tickle slut on the edge all night long. When you’re done with her she won’t even remember her own name.”
Jenny felt lips envelop and slobber over her toes while fingernails spidered along her arch.
“Lovely technique, very good. Keep going everybody. Later on I might teach you about orgasm denial.”
“I love it when they beg. I feel like a fucking god.” Desperado could barely keep the excitement out of his voice.
The sadists were finding their stride now, exploiting the contours of Jenny’s body and lingering on the areas that got the best reaction. They tittered and chatted among themselves, talking about her but never to her. She was beneath their consideration.
Jenny’s jeans had been pulled down below her knees now and her aching body glistened with perspiration. She wailed into her gag. She bit down on the foam ball jammed in her mouth until her jaw ached.
They poked, they prodded, they stroked, they licked, they sucked. Seconds lasted hours. Minutes were an eternity.
Unknown location, three hours later
Jenny was alone, still buckled into the bondage device. Her tormentors had enjoyed their fill of her and had moved on to other amusements.
They had stripped her naked and tried out all of Kamelia’s tools and tricks on her body. The matriarch was the worst. She had discovered fertile spots around her hipbones and lower belly. In contrast to her male companions with their clumsy, groping fingers, she was much more studied and precise in her cruelty.
Under a particularly prolonged assault Jenny felt an urgent pressure in her bladder. She had screamed at them to stop but they wanted her to suffer this humiliation. She had held on as long as possible but then the dam had broken and she had started urinating as tears of shame streaked her face.
Now her tormentors groaned and tutted in disgust. Well the slut had to be punished for this outrage. Rabbit had appeared to sponge Jenny down and mop the floor. The ticklers seethed. The matriarch was sorting through the wands and dildos on the trolley.
Kamelia had another humiliation to pile on. She’d had Opera Glasses and Desperado uncuff Jenny’s ankles and raise her legs into the air. “Rabbit, get the stirrup poles.”
Jenny struggled but she was too weakened from all the tickling and Desperado and Opera Glasses held her easily as two poles were attached to the table which allowed them to spread her legs and cuff her ankles in a raised position.
Jenny cringed at the feeling of being naked and so exposed. Her tormentors were determined to remove any shred of dignity that might have remained.
“Perfect,” Kamelia said with a sharp slap to Jenny’s buttocks. She reached into one of the boxes and retrieved two objects which slipped over her hands. She held them up for the men to see, turning them over so they could see the thick bed of plastic bristles. “Gentlemen, these are the kind of brushes grooms use on the coats of a thoroughbred racehorse. I’m sure you can imagine the effect they’ll have on the sensitive soles of a delicate little filly.”
Kamelia handed a brush to each of the men. Opera Glasses ran his fingers over the bristles, making them crackle.
“Now you don’t want to go too hard with these. That might be painful. We want to cause the slut some discomfort but we want to tickle her too, especially considering how much this one hates it. Smooth, precise strokes, Feel her reactions, find those ultra-sensitive spots and exploit without mercy.”
Jenny’s spirit was cracking as she listened to this. There was no let up from these people; they were utterly sadistic in their treatment of her.
“And some merciless sole torment will make what our dear lady here is about to do to the slut’s hot pink slit even more unbearable.”
Jenny wanted to scream as she heard the wand buzz into life and then the matriarch began to apply it with cruel precision to her swollen lips. She felt the men take her ankles in one hand and then the plastic bristles began flickering across her soles.
“Please! Don’t do this!” She begged. Her struggles were growing weaker now. The brushes on her soles sent electric jolts down her legs which then multiplied with the pulsing pressure at her crotch.
She hated it fiercely but Jenny could feel her body’s biological reactions awaken in response to the Matriarch’s stimulations.
“Horny little bich is getting wet,” the Matriarch cackled.
“That’s it. Edge her but don’t let her cum, not yet.” Kamelia was observing carefully.
“Why are you doing this?” Jenny wailed to no response.
Kamelia continued to provide guidance, until the three patrons were working in unison. Raking her soles with the infernal brushes and vibrating her slickness.
They brought her to the brink several times. They made her gasp, her eyes rolling back in her head, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ and then they stopped to deprive her of release. They did this several times before pushing her over the edge into a screaming, moaning orgasm that wracked her whole body.
“So that’s what her happy face looks like.” Desperado laughed.
To her horror Jenny discovered that even after everything they’d done, her body was more sensitive after climaxing. Her tormentors exploited this over repeatedly. The Matriarch delighted in draining the young woman as much as she enjoyed making her squirt with each crashing climax.
“I’ll get every drop from you.” The Matriarch said with almost fanatic zeal. Opera Glasses and Desperado finger tickled her hips and ribs while they brushes worked her feet.
Jenny lost all track of time as they continued this until they could get no more reaction from her.
“It’s no fun playing with a broken toy.” The Matriarch sniffed.
The men had one final indignity for her. They pulled out their erections and masturbated until they doubled over with groaning, shuddering ejaculations, splashing her feet with cum.
“We must do this again,” Opera Glasses said without so much as a look back at Jenny. It was as if once they turned their backs she no longer existed.
Left alone in the dark, Jenny started to shiver.
She heard soft footsteps and saw Kamelia walking towards her. The red lipstick, leather and spike heels were gone now. She was dressed in a pair of leggings and running shoes and an oversized Lululemon hooded jacket.
Kamelia looked at Jenny without any emotion and undid her cuffs. She tossed a pack of wet wipes on her stomach. “Clean up. Do a thorough job. Those boys had a lot of jizz backed up.”
Kamelia watched Jenny wipe herself down and when she was satisfied she tossed her clothes and boots on the floor. “Get dressed.”
Once she was dressed, Kamelia had taken her by the arm and led her back to the small ante-room. Ralphie was waiting for them. “Well lookit, if it isn’t the main attraction?”
They had hooded her and led her into a vehicle. Ralphie up front, Kamelia in the back with her. “We’re going to drop you near your place. When we let you out you’re going to keep your eyes closed and count to one hundred. You are not going to look back and you are not going to look for us ever again. Understand?”
“Yes.” Jenny’s voice was dull and robotic
“We’ll be watching you anyway. If you poke your nose where it isn’t wanted again there will be dire consequences. Understand?”
“Yes.”
The vehicle slowed and Kamelia walked Jenny a short distance and took the hood from her. “Remember, eyes closed, count to a hundred. We’ll be watching.” She suddenly pulled Jenny towards her and kissed her hard on the lips. Jenny’s arms remained by her side, unresisting.
“Now, start counting.” Kamelia whispered.
“One, two, three…” Jenny heard the door to the vehicle close and then it pulled away into the night.
Jenny continued to count. She started to giggle. By the time she reached one hundred she was howling with laughter. She made her way back to her apartment building with a jack-o-lantern grin.
She was done writing stories about secret BDSM groups catering to the rich and powerful. She had a new agenda in mind. She would find Kamelia, she would find Ralphie. She would find that place and she would burn it to the ground.
The Pleasure Society
Munden’s Bar. Friday, 10.50pm
Jenny leaned across the bar to hear the guy’s order over the din of House of Pain doing ‘Jump Around’. His eyes flashed on the low-cut neck of her tight black tank top. “Can I get three Coronas, a Sam Adams for my buddy from Boston and a plate of wings?”
“We’re out of Sam Adams. We have Brooklyn Lager?”
“East Coast, close enough.” The guy grinned, his eyes flashed back to her chest.
“Alrighty,” Jenny pulled the four long necks from the fridge behind her, guessing the guy’s eyes were now on her denim-clad ass. She popped the caps off the bottles and lined them up for him. Took his table number and said the wings would be over shortly.
He tried to catch her eye again but she was already turning to serve an Asian girl with purple highlights waving a platinum credit card. Truth be told, the guy was kind of cute but Jenny wasn’t tending bar for the tips and chat-up lines.
Offices of The Weekly Examiner. One month ago, after lunch
Jennifer Ramsey, Jenny to her friends, stood in the office of her editor, Morgan Welch. She knew that Morgan typically started drinking his lunch around midday so it was best to catch him when he stumbled back into the office.
“Jennifer Ramsey, girl reporter, what can I do for you?” He said, regarding her through slightly bleary eyes, his hands folded across his straining shirtfront.
“It’s about the story I told you about. I have a lead.”
He waved her off, “Jenny, I know you want to run off and do your Lois Lane thing but you have to learn to walk before you can run. That’s why you’re on the socials. You give me 250 words on the weekend’s society wedding that doesn’t make me want to gouge my own eyes out with a pencil and we’ll see.”
Jenny shifted her weight from foot to foot. She thought the industrial quantity of alcohol he had consumed with his lunch would have made it an easier sell but Morgan was sharp as ever. She could have worn a tight low-cut blouse to make her pitch but he wasn’t going to fall for that either.
“Morgan, please. I have something this time.”
He regarded her for a moment then sighed. “You know who makes the best coffee round here? The Italian chick with the nose ring over at Giorgio’s. I could murder a double espresso if you’re buying. You have the time it takes to get there and back to sell me on this idea.”
Jenny’s eyes must have lit up because Morgan heaved himself out of his chair and shrugged into his rumpled jacket.
And so over a double espresso for him and non-fat latte for her, Jenny told Morgan about the work she had been doing on the whispers around a BDSM underworld that had branches across the country and was where the real decisions were made. She laid out the network she has been probing on her own time and how many prominent personalities were either complicit or compromised.
Morgan drained the last of his coffee and tossed the cup in a trashcan. “Alright, I think you’re onto something and it wouldn’t surprise me if tax cuts and healthcare were decided at some messed up Eyes Wide Shut party but even if you can expose it, what good would it do? The people you’re talking about could shut us down in a heartbeat. At best you uncover the new Bohemian Grove, at worst we disappear. These aren’t people to be taken lightly.”
Jenny could tell he was curious. “Sunlight is the best disinfectant though, right?”
The editor scratched the stubble on his chin. “You kids watch ‘All The President’s Men’ or ‘Spotlight’ and think you’re going to save the world.” He sighed. “And you think there’s some link with this bar called Munden’s? I know that place, it’s not the worst shithole going but it’s not where the Mayor hangs out either. Seems unlikely.
“The name Munden came up twice and the bar is the only place in the city I could find. Best I can come up with is Munden’s is some kind of dead drop or a place where connections are made and meetings set. I think they picked Munden’s exactly because it’s not the kind of place these people go.”
“Hiding in plain sight? I could insult your intelligence by saying you can’t just walk in and ask if anyone knows where the millionaire Spanky McGangbang parties are, but I won’t.”
“Nope but they’re looking for bar staff. I tended bar in college. I have the experience. I get a job there and keep my ear to the ground. It would be a temporary thing.”
“You want to go undercover? I don’t like it.” Morgan said. “That could put you in danger. It’s not a game like on TV, not with the kind of people you’re talking about. So here’s the deal, when you’re in the place you call me at the beginning and end of each shift. No buts. You miss a call, I send in the cavalry.”
“Thank you.” Jenny nearly danced for joy. “One month, give me a month. If it’s a dry hole I’ll cover every damn society wedding, fundraiser and PTA meeting you want.”
“I must want my head examined.” Morgan shook his head and then the donut shop across the street caught his eye. “I’d give my right nut for a chocolate frosted right now.”
Munden’s Bar. Friday, 11.10pm
The cute guy had come back to the bar and tried to hit on Jenny. She could see his friends snickering to themselves as they tried to pretend they weren’t watching.
She’d turned him down with a smile saying her boyfriend wouldn’t approve. It happened a few times a week, sometimes it was flattering, sometimes it was creepy and on one occasion a guy had given her such bad vibes she’d caught the eye of Cody, the ex-Marine bouncer who had slipped off his stool and persuaded the guy to leave. Cody wasn’t all that big but he had a way of bringing people around to his point of view.
Jenny was beginning to think Munden’s was a false lead. She’d been working there for three weeks now and the initial excitement of being undercover had worn off. It was just like tending bar back in college. As an attractive brunette with an easy smile and a quick wit, she did well in tips but that wasn’t why she was there. One more week and it was back to covering garden parties and weddings.
“Hey sweetheart, how about a little service over here?” The voice that jolted her out of her thoughts was rough from too many cigarettes and too much whisky. She turned to see a stocky man with a weather-beaten face and broad soldiers. His coarse hair was brushed back off his forehead and he had thick, scarred hands. “Guy could die of thirst over here.”
His stare was pure acid and Jenny looked towards the door but Cody wasn’t working tonight, instead it was a newer guy she didn’t know and he was chatting to a svelte Latina in a leather skirt.
She turned back. “Sorry, what can I get you?”
“A piece like you can get it all.” He looked her up and down in a way that almost made her recoil.
“Play nice, Ralphie.” A tall dark-haired woman placed a hand on his forearm. The two were a stark contrast. Whilst Ralphie was a panting bulldog in human form, she had the dark elegance of one of those seductive vampires that featured on the covers of dark romance novels. Not that Jenny let anyone know about her guilty reading pleasures.
The Vamp smiled at Jenny. “What’s your name?”
“Jennifer. But people call me Jenny.”
“Charmed, I’m Kamelia. Ralphie will have the cheapest nastiest beer in the house with a whisky chaser and I’ve have a Bloody Mary. Extra Bloody. We’ll be at table seven.”
“Coming right up.” Jenny said.
Ralphie blew her a kiss as they moved to the table.
Despite Ralphie’s repellent character, Jenny felt a surge of excitement. These two weren’t the usual clientele at Munden’s. Kamelia even looked like a dominatrix with the long black hair in a high ponytail and the leather boots.
She fixed the drinks and took them to table seven. “Here you go, folks.”
Kamelia had a phone on the table and was showing Ralphie something. Jenny caught a fleeting glimpse of a white-haired man sitting in an open velvet robe. He wore black gloves and held a riding crop in one hand. A blonde woman wearing a dog collar and spiked heels knelt between his legs.
Jenny felt a surge of adrenaline. Ralphie and the vamp had to be linked to this BDSM underground. Kamelia quickly locked her phone screen.
“Uh, can I get you guys anything else?”
“That will be all, thank you.” Kamelia said.
Ralphie hooked a finger in Jenny’s studded punk belt and pulled her towards him. He peeled off a pair of twenties, kissed them and pressed them just inside the waistband of her jeans. Jenny cringed as his fingers rubbed against her waist.
“Keep the change, babe.” He said.
“Thanks.” Jenny turned on her heel and heard them chuckling at her momentary discomfort. She didn’t care though. This was it - she finally had a concrete lead. She had to let Morgan know.
She served a couple more customers and then motioned to a fellow bartender that she needed a couple of minutes. She slipped down to a rear corridor that only staff could access, she would not be disturbed here. She pulled out her phone and called Morgan on his landline at home.
“You done for the night already?” He said on picking up the phone.
“No, hey how did you know it was me?”
“Who else calls me this time of night?”
“Oh right, anyway listen, I have something. These two characters came in tonight, they’re connected to this whole thing. I can feel it.”
“Slow down, take me through it.”
Jenny began telling him about Ralphie and Kamelia but could suddenly hear a loud percussive sound on the other end of the line.
“For Pete’s sake, who comes calling at this time of night?” He muttered. “Hang on, Jenny. Someone at the front door.”
Jenny heard him put the handset down and walk off. She tapped her foot impatiently, she needed to get back and keep tabs on Ralphie and the vamp.
She heard Morgan answer the door. Words were exchanged and then she heard Morgan shout, “Hey!” There were some other sounds and then there was quiet.
“Morgan, are you there? Are you OK? Hello?”
Jenny heard footsteps and then someone picked up the receiver. “Morgan, is that you? What happened?”
She could hear breathing but whoever was on the other end of the line didn’t speak, they simply replaced the handset. Jenny felt a shiver run down her spine.
A voice from the other end of the corridor made her jump. “Shouldn’t go poking your nose where it’s not wanted.”
Jenny looked up to see Kamelia regarding her the way a cat looks at a wounded bird.
An arm wrapped around her waist from behind and then a foul-smelling cloth was clamped hard over her nose and mouth, jamming her head backwards. Even through the cloth she could smell odours of old sweat and tobacco. Ralphie.
She struggled in his grasp but he was much stronger and she was growing dizzy from the fumes.
Ralphie’s lips brushed against her ear. “Say ‘g’night’, Gracie.”
She could hear Kamelia laughing.
And then everything went black.
Unknown location. After midnight
Jenny groaned as she regained control of her faculties, only to realise that her hands and feet were bound and she was blindfolded. Cold dread ran through her.
“Hey Kamelia, sleeping beauty’s awake.” She recognised Ralphie’s voice.
“Do you need to be sick?” It was the vamp. Jenny guessed this was Kamelia.
“Where am I?”
A plastic bottle was forced between her lips. “It’s water, drink, rinse, spit. Do what you have to.”
Jenny had fierce cotton mouth and drank until the bottle was yanked away. “Where am I?” She tried to keep the shake out of her voice.
“Somewhere safe and private.” Kamelia said.
The blindfold was pulled off and Jenny blinked into the low light. She was sitting on a folding chair. Ralphie leaned against a wall smoking a cigarette. Kamelia towered over her in a belted raincoat and spiked heels.
“Let me go and I swear I won’t breathe a word of this. You don’t have to hurt me.”
Kamelia smiled. “We’re not going to hurt you, just teach you a little lesson.”
“I’m just a bartender..” Jenny said, trying to brazen it out.
Kamelia smoothed Jenny’s hair out of her face. “You work for the Weekly Examiner and you’re sticking your pretty little nose where it isn’t wanted.”
Jenny jerked her head away, she saw there was no point in keeping up the subterfuge. “There are people who know where I am and if I don’t call-”
“Morgan Welch is the only person who knows what you’re doing and he can’t help you right now.”
Jenny’s stomach lurched. “Where is he?”
“You should be more concerned about yourself.” Kamelia held up a large red ballgag. “Open wide.”
“Fuck you.” Jenny fought back tears.
Kamelia laughed, “OK, I’ll leave the room and let Ralphie gag you.”
“Gimme ten minutes alone with her, in fact make it fifteen.” Ralphie said.
Jenny reluctantly opened her mouth and gasped as the red rubber ball was forced past her lips and buckled into place.
“Beautiful,” Kamelia said, surveying her work. She turned to Ralphie. “Bring her.”
Jenny protested into her gag as Ralphie uncuffed her and effortlessly lifted her over his shoulder. He followed Kamelia down a dimly lit hallway, his hand stroking Jenny’s denim-clad thighs.
They went up a few steps onto a small platform with a curtain ahead of it. When Ralphie turned around Jenny saw what they had planned for her.
There was a metal frame with a high seat padded with crimson leather. Legs extended out below the seat at a ninety degree angle. The legs were also padded leather and had thick black leather straps bolted to them. The seat was high backed with padded arms going out to the sides. It was some kind of bondage device that spread the arms and legs of whoever was strapped into it.
“On three,” Kamelia said. In unison she and Ralphie began to count. “One, two, three.”
Limb by limb Jenny was strapped into the bondage chair. The pair had clearly done this before and thwarted Jenny’s frantic struggling with ease. Even though she was still clothed, the young reporter felt horribly exposed.
Kamelia opened her trenchcoat now and handed it to Ralphie. She was wearing a PVC bustier that displayed an impressive cleavage along with a pair of tight, leather leggings that disappeared into spike heeled boots. Ralphie handed her a black leather domino mask which covered her face from her forehead to the bottom of her nose. “How do I look?”
“Like a fucking goddess.” Ralphie said.
Kamelia giggled, “And how does she look?”
He looked Jenny up and down in a way that made her feel naked. “Built for fucking.”
Jenny suddenly felt the urge to vomit again. Ralphie saw her reaction and laughed. “Another time, maybe me and her coulda been close.” He looked at his phone. “Alright they’re here. I’ll see you after.”
He walked off into the darkness leaving Jenny with more questions. Who was here? After what?
Kamelia looked over her shoulder at her. “Haven’t you figured it out yet sweetheart? You didn’t just stumble on our little society. Tonight you’re going to be the main attraction.” She turned back as the curtain was raised.
Jenny blinked at the light. She could make out silhouettes of people at tables. What the hell was going on here? She could hear blood crashing in her ears. Was this some kind of torture porn live show? It was so outlandish she could barely even conceive of the idea.
Kamelia adjusted a small microphone over her ear and struck a pose. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for coming. I am your host Mistress Kamelia and we have a very special show for you tonight.
“The mouth-watering slut behind me, bound and gagged for your delectation and delight, is going to help me demonstrate the fine art of tickle torture.”
Jenny shook her head. Had she heard that right? Tickle torture? What kind of nonsense was that? Her college boyfriend had sometimes tickled her as a prelude to a make out session before trying to get into her pants, but torture. This made no sense.
“I can see some of you are not convinced,” Kamelia said. “You think of tickling as play, but you would be mistaken. Extreme tickling has been used in Asia and Europe throughout history as a punishment or interrogation technique that left no marks.
“It can cause anguish and mental distress, shortness of breath and unconsciousness. A subject may lose control of their bladder and in some cases they can become sexually aroused which opens up other avenues for torment.”
Kamelia gave the audience a sultry over the shoulder look. “I can assure you that I always become sexually aroused, especially when I have a pretty little slut to play with.”
Jenny reeled. This was medieval kinky nastiness. She pulled at her bondage and although the leather creaked, it refused to budge. A few of the patrons chuckled in anticipation. She saw the red glow of a cigar in the darkness.
“I’m sure some of you still have doubts but I’ll put those to rest very quickly. So let’s tickle torture this little slut.” She turned to Jenny, and through the mask her eyes flashed with dark hunger.
Kamelia walked to the front of the stage, “When I was a teenager I had a cousin named Evie, a redhead whose milkshake brought all the boys to the yard.” She cupped her breasts and did a little shimmy to the amusement of the patrons.
“I found out she was fucking my boyfriend so we tussled. I ended up straddling her, pinning her arms to her side and discovering just how much fun it could be to tickle torture someone. By the time I was done she was blubbering away and there was a big wet stain on her denim cut offs.” She turned and gave the audience a sultry over the shoulder look. “Wanna see how I did it?”
The audience barked its approval. Jenny was a helpless spectator in all this. She growled into her gag and tore at the straps binding her arms and legs.
She heard a sound to her left and saw a tanned woman push a small trolley onto the stage. She had an incredible body and wore a skimpy black thong and black stilettos. A blonde ponytail hung down her back but her face was covered with a white rabbit-eared mask. It had black Xs for eyes and black duct tape where the mouth would have been. She paused to stare wordlessly at Jenny. The overall effect was disconcerting.
Kamelia sauntered to the table and picked up a long, thin object which she held up to the crowd. “A simple grass stalk but wait until you see what I can do with it.”
She spun towards Jenny and wrapped an arm around her neck, holding her head. Jenny’s eyes were wide and she was breathing hard.
“Mpphk Uhf,” she mumbled around her gag. Her heart was hammering in her chest. It’s just a grass stalk! It’s just tickling. She kept repeating that to herself but it didn’t help.
Kamelia placed the tip of the stalk on the delicate shell of Jenny’s ear and flicked it.
Jenny gasped into her gag. It itched, it tickled. She shook her head to clear the sensation. Kamelia flicked it again.
The crowd was silent now. Jenny was aware of her image being projected onto screens around the wall from different angles.
“Hold still, slut.” Kamelia said. Now she dragged the grass stalk slowly around Jenny’s ear, flicking and stroking. Jenny yelped and tried to pull her head away but the dominatrix was holding her tight.
Jenny remembered how she’d curl up when her boyfriend blew softly on her ear. This was immeasurably worse. She had no way of shrinking away. One side of her head was pressed into Kamelia’s cleavage as the other was tormented, the grass stalk flickering up and down her neck before returning to her ear.
It tingled and all Jenny wanted to do was rub her skin vigorously to erase the sensation. Her restraints held fast while Kamelia spun the stalk in her ear and made her squeal.
“The slut’s a squirmer.” Kamelia said to the audience as she danced the grass stalk from ear to ear. “Those who lack imagination would probably go straight for the feet but the ears are very sensitive to this kind of torment. So is the nose.”
Jenny shrieked as the stalk began to play around her nostrils even poking and twirling inside which made her want to sneeze. She tried jerking her head up but Kamelia maintained a firm grasp around her head and she had nowhere to go.
“Who’s a ticklish little slut?” Kamelia chanted as she moved the stalk from ear to ear and back to the nose before dancing under her chin.
Jenny was crying tears of frustration now. She could almost feel her nerve endings throb. It was just a grass stalk. How could it be so awful?
After a few more minutes Kamelia looked at the grass stalk which was now saggy and drooping. “Well I guess that’s the end of that.” She tossed it aside.
Jenny blinked at her through her tears. She wanted to put her boot through this bitch’s face.
Kamelia smiled at her. “Messy little slut aren’t you? You’re drooling everywhere.” She leaned forward and licked a drop of saliva from the curve of Jenny’s chest. Her tongue tracked a path , along her throat and around her gagged lips before gently sucking on the red ball that separated them.
The turn from sadism to sensuality nearly made Jenny’s head spin. She caught a close up of Kamelia’s tongue moving up her neck on one of the screens at the side of the stage.
“How does she taste?” A voice called out from the audience.
Kamelia licked her lips. “Like a peach.”
Jenny stared at Kamelia with raw hatred but the dominatrix was ignoring her. Her focus was back on the crowd.
“I can feel some of you getting excited from over here but trust me, I’m not even warmed up yet.”
Jenny’s jaw ached from biting down hard on the ballgag. The itching the grass had created lingered like a ghost, as if she was still being teased. Was tickle torture real? How bad could this get?
She looked on warily as Kamelia rounded on her with a slow, sway-hipped walk. She tried to jerk her head away as the dominatrix ran her fingers through her hair.
Kamelia’s eyes hardened. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll play along. You get cute in anyway and this evening is not going to go well for you. Understand?”
The radiant smile was back in place but the sudden change shook Jenny to her core.
“Would you like to hear what kind of noises the slut makes when she isn’t gagged?” Kamelia asked. There was a chorus of agreement from the seething audience.
Jenny felt nimble fingers unbuckle the gag and cast it aside. She worked her jaw around and licked her lips. She was suddenly very thirsty.
“What am I going to do with you next?” Kamelia said, flexing her red fingernails.
A few choice retorts were on the tip of Jenny’s tongue but she knew she was in no position to back it up. She glowered at the towering domme. She hated the way Kamelia kept referring to her as the slut. She knew it was just a tactic to get under skin but it was starting to work.
Kamelia addressed the audience, “This may be news to some of you but there is a thriving market for clips on the internet where young women agree to have their bodies tickled on camera for a fee. Of course there are release forms and chaperones and all that boring shit. But what you’re going to see now is what that looks like with no consent, no release forms and no safe words. This is going to be raw.”
Jenny could almost feel the lust coming from the patrons in waves. She screwed her eyes shut and tried to focus inwardly as her leather-clad Vellicatrix worked the crowd with her plans.
“I can’t believe this is happening. How the fuck did I end up here?” Jenny muttered to herself.
“Hey,” Kamelia was snapping her fingers in Jenny’s face. “Pay attention, slut. I was telling these fine ladies and gentlemen what they’re getting. I hope you’re ready to put on a good show because I am.”
She grabbed Jenny’s face in her hands and kissed her hard on the mouth before licking her lips. Jenny gasped in shock and her tormentor kissed her lips and cheeks, leaving lipstick marks on her.
“Get off me!” Jenny’s red-smeared face was projected onto the screens to polite applause from the crowd.
“I’ve marked you, slut.” Kamelia gloated. “That means you belong to me now. Body and soul.”
“No you don’t.” Jenny said. It wasn’t much of a comeback.
Kamelia smiled like a shark, baring her perfect white teeth. She spun back towards the audience. “A lot of things can happen when you really work a tickle slut over. They can find it hard to breathe and pass out. They can pee themselves. Sometimes, the real sluts love it and you can make them squirt. I don’t know what this one is going to do but we’ll have fun finding out. Can I get a countdown of five?”
Kamelia moved behind Jenny and licked her ear as the crowd counted down. “Ready slut?”
“FIVE.”
“You’re sick. You’re all sick.”
“FOUR.”
“No we’re just honest about who we are and what we want.”
“THREE.”
“You won’t get away with this.”
“TWO.”
“Oh honey, we already did.”
“ONE.”
Jenny opened her mouth to retort but Kamelia began curling fingertips in the smooth hollows of her armpits. The trapped reporter gasped as the flickering fingernails set her nerve endings on fire.
“Oh God! No!” She said, a note of desperation coming out in her voice. She thrashed side to side in her bondage, the leather creaked, the bolts groaned but there was no give.
Kamelia giggled softly in her ear. “That’s it, fight it.. I love a slut with spirit.”
Jenny couldn’t hear her though. The sensation in her underarms was maddening, the worst itching sensation she had ever felt. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t pull her arms down. She felt on the verge of panic and beads of perspiration pricked her hairline.
“I own you.” Kamelia’s breath was hot on her neck.
Jenny let out a wordless scream which collapsed into an anguished laugh. She could see herself blown up on screens around the room. Her tear streaked face, her jiggling body, Kamelia’s nails spidering in her sensitive hollows.
Light briefly illuminated audience members. A grey-haired man watching through ornate opera glasses, his face a rictus grin. A silver-haired matriarch with a young shirtless man bound across her lap. A character with a thick black desperado moustache looked on with glee. A blonde woman in a black basque and fishnets knelt between his legs, her head bobbing up and down.
The perverted tableau made Jenny want to retch as she wailed and thrashed in her bondage.
Kamelia’s fingers walked down Jenny’s chest. “What have we here? there’s I bet there’s a sexy body underneath this.” She pulled Jenny’s top from her jeans and jerked it up and over her head.
Jenny saw her body exposed to the glare of the lights. She could almost feel the spectators breathe harder as she was projected up on the screens. One showed a close up of her breasts, having in a white bra with black polka dots. Another caught the sinuous movement of her flat belly.
“I’m gonna have fun with you.” Kamelia said. She dug her fingers up and down Jenny’s ribs which brought forth a fresh round of anguished wailing. It was clear to all that only one of these women was having a good time.
Kamelia squeezed and poked, coaxing more helpless screeching from her captive. “You got a really nice body, slut. You please me.”
A peal of anguished laughter was ripped from Jenny’s throat as Kamelia knuckled the spaces between her ribs.
The light slashed across the crowd. The man with the opera glasses had one hand in his pants. The matriarch had bared her boy toy’s buttocks and was spanking them hard. Desperado held the blonde’s head in place as it bobbed faster and faster between his thighs. All of them were laser locked on Jenny’s ticklish plight.
“Koochie koo, who’s a tickly little slut?” Kamelia said as if talking to a child. She was working the muscles of Jenny’s waist with hard, rhythmic squeezing. The fingers oozed below her belt and squeezed her hips.
“Oh God,” Jenny wailed. She squeezed her eyes closed as if that might help.
“God isn’t allowed down here,” Kamelia said as she nibbled Jenny’s neck. “We serve other powers here.” Her fingers came together to poke Jenny’s lower belly and probe the edges of her underwear.
“Please, I’m sorry.” Jenny cried. “You don’t have to do this.” She tensed her stomach muscles but that just made it worse.
“I want to though. And I haven’t even bared your feet yet. In fact there’s a thought.” The domme clicked her fingers and the blonde girl in the rabbit mask reappeared. Kamelia tapped one of Jenny’s ankle boots. “As I taught you, Rabbit.”
Rabbit nodded and with great ceremony removed Jenny’s boots and socks, baring her shapely size seven feet.
“What’s she going to do?” Jenny said. Her head darted side from side as the blonde returned with the trolley of instruments.
“Is that an edge of hysteria I can hear in your voice?” She poked Jenny’s armpits and her ribs, she snapped her bra strap. “She’s going to do exactly what I want her to do and you’re going to enjoy it.”
Rabbit held up a thick, stiff leather strap to the crowd and then began to swat Jenny’s bare soles with it.
“Shit, stop it. Stop it you freakshow bitch.” Jenny said, flinching with each slap.
The wet sounds of approval from the crowd made no secret of their enjoyment of the spectacle.
“Let’s see if I can take your mind off it.” Kamelia began working Jenny’s upper body with her tireless fingers. Stroking and squeezing. Prodding and poking.
Jenny continued to flinch as the strap licked at her smooth soles and now she let out something like a strangled growl of frustration which turned into a keening wail as fingers flew over her body. Her soles stung and through tears of frustration Jenny saw Rabbit put the strap away and pick up a bottle of oil.
Kamelia sank her teeth into the juncture of Jenny’s shoulder and neck. The bite was firm but not painful. She merely held the reporter in place as she tormented her. As her fingers moved from waist, to ribs, to pits she would boldly cup and squeeze Jenny’s breasts.
“Why are you doing this?” Jenny cried out, much to the amusement of the crowd.Kamelia continued to suck on her neck.
Rabbit was working the oil into Jenny’s soles which made her gasp. The masked woman had surprisingly strong hands and parted Jenny’s toes to make sure the oil went everywhere.
Kamelia slid her hands into Jenny’s bra and softly pinched her nipples. The bound reporter cried out in protest as Rabbit took a hairdryer and began heating the oil on her feet.
“Nice tits, slut.” Kamelia lickied drool from Jenny’s neck. She worked the girl’s ribs, coaxing the laughter from her lungs, making her ache from reluctant mirth. The dominatrix reached for a tube of cream and addressed the audience. “When you’re tickling a slut, sometimes her nipples get hard, and maybe her panties get a little wet. But this slut doesn’t seem to be enjoying herself yet. This is a tube of cooling gel with a nice minty aroma. In a pinch toothpaste works just as well.”
Works just as well for what? Jenny asked herself. Kamelia rubbed some of the gel between her fingertips and then reached inside Jenny’s bra again. The reporter gasped as the cool gel shocked her nipples.
“Oh now she’s perking up.” Kamelia said as she rolled the nipples back and forth between her fingers.
The man with the opera glasses said, “Let’s have a look, Lady K. Don’t keep us in suspense.”
Kamelia peeled down the cups of Jenny’s bra, baring her breasts to the eyes of the audience and to the hidden cameras which projected them onto the screens. Jenny’s cheeks burned as she saw Kamelia’s fingertips rolling her nipples back and forth. Voices in the audience called out suggestions, none of them pleasant.
“Humiliation is another delicious ingredient in the recipe for good tickle torture,” Kamelia sang. “A good tickler will be sure to cover both the physical and the psychological.” She unhooked Jenny’s bra and pulled it over her head. “Let’s give these beauties some air shall we?”
The domme’s fingers were back on her ribs now, probing and kneading. Jenny cried with anguish and involuntary laughter. She was living a nightmare as the women had their way with her. She had nearly laughed when Kamelia said she was going to tickle. She could never have imagined something so humiliating and mean-spirited. Bound, exposed and used for an audience of the rich and depraved. She just wanted it to be over. She’d do anything for it to be over.
Her soles throbbed as Rabbit played the hairdryer over them. They were already tingling from the oil and this made it worse.
Kamelia began slapping Jenny’s quivering stomach. “A little pink belly for the slut.”
“Please, no more, I can’t take any more.” Jenny begged.
This just spurred Kamelia on until a pink blush spread across the reporter’s stomach. She then began dragging her fingernails over the smooth flesh in flowery patterns that made Jenny twitch and gasp. Jenny’s hips were switching back and forth and she bounced up and down on the padded chair.
“Oh stop wriggling so much,” Kamelia chided her. She wrapped an arm around Jenny’s waist and then grabbed her through the crotch of her jeans and squeezed.
Jenny let out a squeal of shock as Kamelia rubbed her face on her stomach and began blowing raspberries, drilling her belly button with her sharp tongue.
All the while Rabbit continued to play the hair dryer over Jenny’s tingling feet.
Kamelia eventually came up for air and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “There, I bet that took the wind out of your sails didn’t it.” She gave Jenny’s glistening belly another slap and then went to join Rabbit.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sure you know that the feet have the longest nerve endings in the body and on many people they are excruciatingly ticklish. Just in case the slut or slave isn’t so ticklish, rubbish this oil into their soles and then applying a heat source”
Jenny was exhausted as she listened to this. Her ribs and stomach ached from laughter, her throat was hoarse, and she felt as if she been through a heavy gym class. She didn’t know what was worse: Kamelia with her black hair, leather and cleavage, the blonde with the swimsuit model body and creepy mask or the salivating audience.
Kamelia looked at her in a way that made her shudder and then in appalling synchronicity, both Kamelia and the rabbit pulled back on Jenny’s big toes and dragged their fingernails along her arches.
Jerking as if she had been electrocuted, Jenny let out a quavering wail to the delight of the onlookers. For some reason the synchronised tickling from her two tormentors made her feel very small and at the mercy of something very big; this wasn’t their first time torturing someone in this fashion, they had honed their skills to the point they didn’t even need to look at each other.
Jenny’s soles were projected up onto the screens along with her tear-streaked face. Her brown hair was a wild mess. The audience practically drooled. Jenny didn’t care, she wailed and shrieked and tore at her bonds while her two tormentors raked her soles and teased her toes.
She begged for them to stop. They took her toes into their mouths. She caught a glimpse of full red lips under Rabbit’s mask. Now she had to deal with their tongues and fingers. Lightning bolts of sensation shot up her legs. The sensual, adoring mouths contrasting wildly with the wicked, merciless fingernails.
“Please, I’ll do anything! Just make it stop.” She screamed, no longer caring that she was stripped to the waist and exposed to the tittering audience. They enjoyed her predicament. The tickling continued.
“Look at the distress,” Kamelia said. “All this just from a little tickling. We’re just playing a little koochie-koo with her and she’s about to fall apart. I swear that sometimes, you can almost hear the moment when they crack.”
Their nails on her soles, their tongues lashing her toes and now the other hands were working their way up her legs, pinching her knees and the firm muscle of her thighs.
Jenny’s head hung on her chest, bouncing in silent laughter. She could no longer muster the energy to resist. Her ribs ached, she was trembling, the salt from her tears and perspiration was salty on her tongue. She had all the strength of a wet noodle.
“Why?” She said through sniffles. The women tormenting her dug their thumbs into her hip creases which momentarily made her throw her head up and arch her back. One of the screens started running a loop of her glistening breasts thrusting outwards, her mouth parted orgasmically.
Rabbit was sitting on the floor now, running her fingernails over both of Jenny’s soles while Kamelia returned once more to her hips, ribs and pits.
The two women working in tandem on different parts of her body was the worst thing she had experienced so far. They were like a pair of well-practiced bullies, seeming to know exactly when one should reduce their intensity as the other increased.
Jenny was hysterical. “No stop, I can’t take it. Please stop, I can’t breathe. Mercy.” Her voice came out as an urgent screech. Her vision blurred from the tears and sweat ran into her eyes. She struggled for air, gulping in breaths in between her tormented squeals.
Oh my god, they’re not going to stop. They’re actually trying to kill me! She thought to herself.
Panic set in as her system went into full fight or flight mode. But the bondage meant she could neither fight or flight. So she thrashed and screamed and wailed as her voice grew hoarse and the adrenaline crashed and she had nothing but exhaustion.
Her body no longer responded to her commands to fight and she slumped in her bondage, sobbing silently in rage and humiliation as Kamelia and Rabbit continued to tickle her.
“Aw it’s no fine when they stop struggling.” Kamelia pinched Jenny’s waist and cheek to little reaction. “I think we broke her.”
Kamelia turned to the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, as you can see the right combination of bondage and sensory stimulation provides a most effective and satisfying way to torture a wayward slut or punish an impudent sub-boy without ever leaving a mark on them. Although I can promise you they will never forget it.”
The audience rose to their feet and applauded. Jenny looked up slightly and was appalled to see some of the men had erections on display. She shuddered to think of them masturbating while they watched her ordeal.
Jenny felt silly, she felt ashamed. It was just tickling but she had been completely wrecked. No, she understood it was more than that. She had been methodically and mercilessly disarmed and dismantled.
Oh how she had underestimated the cabal she had sought to investigate. Those dreams of accepting a Pulitzer or being interviewed on prestigious current affairs shows felt like the fantasies of a silly little girl.
“This concludes tonight’s demonstration, ladies and gentlemen. If you would like to make your way to the pleasure rooms, you will find suitable entertainment ready to cater to your every whim.”
There it was. The story Jenny was after. Only the story was walking out of the room while she was half naked and strapped down by two sadistic BDSM freaks. The fact that she had been proved absolutely right in her suspicions was scant consolation.
Kamelia smoothed the hair back from Jenny’s face. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson now, slut. We’ve recorded every moment of your performance here. If you even glance in our direction after this we’ll send images and maybe a little choice footage to your parents, your colleagues, your boyfriend, your exes. We’ve done this before, we can destroy you. Do you understand.”
Jenny turned away from Kamelia but the domme seized her chin and forced her to meet her gaze. “Do. You. Understand?”
Breathing hard through her nostrils Jenny nearly choked on her reply. “Yes.”
Kamelia’s eyes softened and she beamed at Jenny. She leaned in and kissed her warmly on the mouth. “I’m very glad to hear you say that. There’s one last thing we’re going to do first though.” She snapped her fingers, “Rabbit, let’s get her set up.”
“Set up? Set up for what? Oh please, you can’t do anything more to me. I’ve agreed to keep my mouth shut.”
“Rabbit and I? We aren’t going to do anything to you.”
The two women were turning cranks and levers on the bondage chair, moving Jenny into a reclining position, her legs and arms slightly spread until she formed an ‘X’ position. A soft padded strap around her forehead fixed her head to the backrest.
“I get it, I’ll keep my mouth shut. Just let me go.” Jenny said.
Rabbit was wheeling around the trolley of sex toys and tickling implements.
“You’ve done everything to me. You’ve humiliated me and you’ve filmed it. You win.” There was a note of desperation creeping into her voice.
Kamelia stroked her cheek. “If you want the truth, honey, I barely touched you. If it was up to me I’d have you naked, screaming, impaled on a dildo, squirting and bowing down before me. But we’re on the clock here and you’ve been a big hit tonight so…”
She let the last word hang as Jenny heard footsteps. She craned up to see who was coming but the strap on her forehead limited her movement.
A chill hit her stomach as she saw Opera Glasses, Desperado and the Matriarch loom over her, leering down at her body.
“Even better up close.” Opera Glasses said in a thick voice.
“I want it. How much is it?” The Matriarch groaned.
“I’m sorry but the slut is not for sale. She’s here for one night only so please make the most of her.”
“What the fuck?” Jenny eyes bugged out. “No no no no, you said I had to agree to keep my mouth shut and I did. Fuck this, let me up, let me up right now.”
Desperado suddenly snatched up a foam ball from the trolley and jammed it roughly between her teeth, muffling her protests. “That should keep her quiet for a little. They’re so boring when all they do is complain.” He smoothed two strips of duct tape over her lips, keeping the ball in place. Jenny gagged against the dry ball in her mouth.
“As you wish.” Kamelia said with a slight deferential bow of the head.
Opera Glasses held up a black leather blindfold, “And I believe that removing the sense of sight will enhance the slut’s tactile sense.”
“You’ve learned your lessons well I see.” Kamelia said.
“I had a fine teacher.” Opera Glasses said, his jowls flapping with his laughter. He pulled the blindfold into place, stealing Jenny’s sight.
The young woman could feel her heart pounding in her chest. No, this couldn’t be happening again. They’d taken everything already, or so she thought. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream. She could hear her tormentors casually discussing what they were going to do to her.
“I shall start with these wonderful feet. Some edible lotion and then some loving attention.” Opera Glasses said.
“Couldn’t take my eyes off her body when Kamelia was working her. I think I will indulge myself with these pits, ribs and delicious belly. And these wonderful tits.” Desperado said.
“Kamelia, dear. I think you forgot something.” The Matriarch ran her hand up Jenny’s inner thigh and squeezed hard, making the young woman yelp into her gag.
“On the contrary, I wanted to leave some treasures for you to discover.” Kamelia replied.
Jenny’s soul howled with anguish.She was just an object, a thing to be used.
She felt fruity smelling lotion being rubbed into her soles and between her toes. A firm hand clamped down on her bicep and the tip of a small paintbrush ran down her arm and into her underarm before gliding across her chest to flick her nipples. There was a tugging at her waist and then her belt was jerked open, her zipper pulled down and her jeans parted.
The Matriarch pushed her nose into the open denim and inhaled deeply. “She’s ripe for plucking.”
Under Kamelia’s direction and guidance the fingers, tongues and tools applied themselves to Jenny’s body in a bid to inflict the most ticklish torment possible.
“Five thousand says she submits to me first.” The Matriarch.
“I like it, let’s make it ten.” Opera Glasses said.
“Fine by me. We’ll get her warmed up together and then take a session each. Let’s say thirty minutes.” Desperado said. “Whoever gets her to submit first gets her to themselves for the night. Deal?”
Opera Glasses and The Matriarch agreed.
So she was the object of a bet now? It was so humiliating that Jenny didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So she did both. Her anguished sobs and moans delighted the perverted patrons who were now exploiting her body.
She yelped as her waist was pinched and fingers dug into her ribs. Her new tormentors may have lacked Kamelia’s finesse but not her enthusiasm.
“Not so hard there. That’s it, gently. Make her nerve endings respond. Glide those fingertips.” Kamelia coached from the sides. “With the right touch you can keep a tickle slut on the edge all night long. When you’re done with her she won’t even remember her own name.”
Jenny felt lips envelop and slobber over her toes while fingernails spidered along her arch.
“Lovely technique, very good. Keep going everybody. Later on I might teach you about orgasm denial.”
“I love it when they beg. I feel like a fucking god.” Desperado could barely keep the excitement out of his voice.
The sadists were finding their stride now, exploiting the contours of Jenny’s body and lingering on the areas that got the best reaction. They tittered and chatted among themselves, talking about her but never to her. She was beneath their consideration.
Jenny’s jeans had been pulled down below her knees now and her aching body glistened with perspiration. She wailed into her gag. She bit down on the foam ball jammed in her mouth until her jaw ached.
They poked, they prodded, they stroked, they licked, they sucked. Seconds lasted hours. Minutes were an eternity.
Unknown location, three hours later
Jenny was alone, still buckled into the bondage device. Her tormentors had enjoyed their fill of her and had moved on to other amusements.
They had stripped her naked and tried out all of Kamelia’s tools and tricks on her body. The matriarch was the worst. She had discovered fertile spots around her hipbones and lower belly. In contrast to her male companions with their clumsy, groping fingers, she was much more studied and precise in her cruelty.
Under a particularly prolonged assault Jenny felt an urgent pressure in her bladder. She had screamed at them to stop but they wanted her to suffer this humiliation. She had held on as long as possible but then the dam had broken and she had started urinating as tears of shame streaked her face.
Now her tormentors groaned and tutted in disgust. Well the slut had to be punished for this outrage. Rabbit had appeared to sponge Jenny down and mop the floor. The ticklers seethed. The matriarch was sorting through the wands and dildos on the trolley.
Kamelia had another humiliation to pile on. She’d had Opera Glasses and Desperado uncuff Jenny’s ankles and raise her legs into the air. “Rabbit, get the stirrup poles.”
Jenny struggled but she was too weakened from all the tickling and Desperado and Opera Glasses held her easily as two poles were attached to the table which allowed them to spread her legs and cuff her ankles in a raised position.
Jenny cringed at the feeling of being naked and so exposed. Her tormentors were determined to remove any shred of dignity that might have remained.
“Perfect,” Kamelia said with a sharp slap to Jenny’s buttocks. She reached into one of the boxes and retrieved two objects which slipped over her hands. She held them up for the men to see, turning them over so they could see the thick bed of plastic bristles. “Gentlemen, these are the kind of brushes grooms use on the coats of a thoroughbred racehorse. I’m sure you can imagine the effect they’ll have on the sensitive soles of a delicate little filly.”
Kamelia handed a brush to each of the men. Opera Glasses ran his fingers over the bristles, making them crackle.
“Now you don’t want to go too hard with these. That might be painful. We want to cause the slut some discomfort but we want to tickle her too, especially considering how much this one hates it. Smooth, precise strokes, Feel her reactions, find those ultra-sensitive spots and exploit without mercy.”
Jenny’s spirit was cracking as she listened to this. There was no let up from these people; they were utterly sadistic in their treatment of her.
“And some merciless sole torment will make what our dear lady here is about to do to the slut’s hot pink slit even more unbearable.”
Jenny wanted to scream as she heard the wand buzz into life and then the matriarch began to apply it with cruel precision to her swollen lips. She felt the men take her ankles in one hand and then the plastic bristles began flickering across her soles.
“Please! Don’t do this!” She begged. Her struggles were growing weaker now. The brushes on her soles sent electric jolts down her legs which then multiplied with the pulsing pressure at her crotch.
She hated it fiercely but Jenny could feel her body’s biological reactions awaken in response to the Matriarch’s stimulations.
“Horny little bich is getting wet,” the Matriarch cackled.
“That’s it. Edge her but don’t let her cum, not yet.” Kamelia was observing carefully.
“Why are you doing this?” Jenny wailed to no response.
Kamelia continued to provide guidance, until the three patrons were working in unison. Raking her soles with the infernal brushes and vibrating her slickness.
They brought her to the brink several times. They made her gasp, her eyes rolling back in her head, her mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ and then they stopped to deprive her of release. They did this several times before pushing her over the edge into a screaming, moaning orgasm that wracked her whole body.
“So that’s what her happy face looks like.” Desperado laughed.
To her horror Jenny discovered that even after everything they’d done, her body was more sensitive after climaxing. Her tormentors exploited this over repeatedly. The Matriarch delighted in draining the young woman as much as she enjoyed making her squirt with each crashing climax.
“I’ll get every drop from you.” The Matriarch said with almost fanatic zeal. Opera Glasses and Desperado finger tickled her hips and ribs while they brushes worked her feet.
Jenny lost all track of time as they continued this until they could get no more reaction from her.
“It’s no fun playing with a broken toy.” The Matriarch sniffed.
The men had one final indignity for her. They pulled out their erections and masturbated until they doubled over with groaning, shuddering ejaculations, splashing her feet with cum.
“We must do this again,” Opera Glasses said without so much as a look back at Jenny. It was as if once they turned their backs she no longer existed.
Left alone in the dark, Jenny started to shiver.
She heard soft footsteps and saw Kamelia walking towards her. The red lipstick, leather and spike heels were gone now. She was dressed in a pair of leggings and running shoes and an oversized Lululemon hooded jacket.
Kamelia looked at Jenny without any emotion and undid her cuffs. She tossed a pack of wet wipes on her stomach. “Clean up. Do a thorough job. Those boys had a lot of jizz backed up.”
Kamelia watched Jenny wipe herself down and when she was satisfied she tossed her clothes and boots on the floor. “Get dressed.”
Once she was dressed, Kamelia had taken her by the arm and led her back to the small ante-room. Ralphie was waiting for them. “Well lookit, if it isn’t the main attraction?”
They had hooded her and led her into a vehicle. Ralphie up front, Kamelia in the back with her. “We’re going to drop you near your place. When we let you out you’re going to keep your eyes closed and count to one hundred. You are not going to look back and you are not going to look for us ever again. Understand?”
“Yes.” Jenny’s voice was dull and robotic
“We’ll be watching you anyway. If you poke your nose where it isn’t wanted again there will be dire consequences. Understand?”
“Yes.”
The vehicle slowed and Kamelia walked Jenny a short distance and took the hood from her. “Remember, eyes closed, count to a hundred. We’ll be watching.” She suddenly pulled Jenny towards her and kissed her hard on the lips. Jenny’s arms remained by her side, unresisting.
“Now, start counting.” Kamelia whispered.
“One, two, three…” Jenny heard the door to the vehicle close and then it pulled away into the night.
Jenny continued to count. She started to giggle. By the time she reached one hundred she was howling with laughter. She made her way back to her apartment building with a jack-o-lantern grin.
She was done writing stories about secret BDSM groups catering to the rich and powerful. She had a new agenda in mind. She would find Kamelia, she would find Ralphie. She would find that place and she would burn it to the ground.
Your commissioner knew who to ask!! I'm not a fan of "dark & twisted," but can appreciate the artistry 
