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A Tickle Writer's Fantasy (F/M)

Featherscape

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Jun 23, 2017
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A Tickle Writer's Fantasy
By: Featherscape


‘Carlotta gazed out the passenger side window of Martha’s Porsche, watching the familiar elms and birches skim by. Images which once seemed so monotonous, so melancholic, then appeared full of life; a beauty only truly discovered after embracing the appreciation of what all stood before her. Carlotta sat upright in her car seat. The smile she wore was more than enough to speak to the power of quiet contemplation. The car ride was silent, save for the hypnotic lull of the engine. With their destination approaching, Martha spoke for the first time in hours.

“I hope that this trip helped,” said Martha. “I’m so glad that you could come out with me.”

“It did,” said Carlotta. “It did help. Thank you for inviting me. I haven’t had a weekend away in a long time.”

“Anytime you want to come to the cottage with me and unwind, you’re more than welcome to. I know that you’ve been through a lot recently, looking for a way to unwind and release tension. I really glad I could help you.” Martha pulled the car into Carlotta’s driveway and parked.

“Thank you,” said Carlotta. “I have been focusing a lot of relieving stress around the house, but this getaway was amazing.”

“I’m glad,” said Martha. “Let me help you with your bag.”

“No thanks, I got it.” Carlotta stepped out of the car and opened the door to the back seat.

“You sure?”

“Absolutely,” said Carlotta. “It’s late and you’ve been driving this whole way. You have a great night and get some rest, okay?”

“Will do,” said Martha. “You too.” Carlotta pulled out the suitcase and closed the door. She walked up to her front porch, suitcase rolling behind her on a pair of wheels. The gentle hum of the engine purred as it pulled out of the driveway. Carlotta gave one last wave to her friend for a pleasant weekend away before turning back to her home.

Her house had a new energy, a scent which the woman was certain she had never noticed before. She smiled, letting the warm familiarity of home fill her soul. It was a hug from old friend, a kiss from a rekindled lover. Rejuvenated and confident, Carlotta soaked in the tender atmosphere of her abode, free from the stresses of work and family drama. Her mind had been set, though, the entire ride home. She knew her first course of action upon returning. Carlotta set her suitcase by the front door, promising herself that she would unpack her luggage later, and headed for her bedroom. The anticipation of playing with her latest, greatest toy had become the one thing she could not let go of on her retreat.

Pushing the door open to her bedroom, she glanced immediately at her bed. A slender young man, no more than half of her age, laid across her bed. His wrists tied with frayed rope at the top two spokes; ankles tied in similar fashion. The boy was blindfolded and gagged. He had made a slight mess of Carlotta’s comforter, just as the woman had expected. She hummed a lingering tune as she approached the young man. He moaned and groaned at the brutal treatment in which he so desired. She ran her long nails up his legs and across his bare belly, causing him to whimper and weakly struggle.

“Looks like mommy’s little boy had made a mess of himself,” Carlotta said. “Well, we know how naughty little boys need to be punished, don’t we?” The boy nodded. She launched her kneading fingers into his sides. The boy bucked and wailed into his gag. The woman giggled as her fingers toyed with his bare, sensitive skin. “Momma’s missed her little boy. I’ve been waiting all weekend for this.” As the boy rose to ticklish ecstasy with Carlotta ruthlessly teasing his soft, neglected body, she felt no need to contain her own desires. She scribbled inside the boy’s shallow navel with one hand, keeping him in a muffled screaming fit, while her other hand reached out and grabbed-.’

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The boy’s laughter faded, replaced by the light rapping at the door. The room evaporated, transformed into a sweet, homey living room. Carlotta disappeared, and Annette Gardner was left staring at the white glow of her computer screen, inputting the words of her latest contribution onto BlogDSM.com. A half full glass of wine sat bathing in the light of the screen. The knocks continued in another set of three. Annette glanced over at the clock. 4:35.

“Shhhhoot,” Annette said to herself. The woman rubbed her temples and breathed in deeply in a forced forgiveness of her own carelessness. She pushed herself up off the couch. Annette brushed her blouse clear of the wrinkles her involved writing position was known to leave. Several blankets and empty soda cans littered the main sitting room. She walked passed a kitchen in disarray, dishes cresting over the sink. Surfaces had never seemed so dusty as when Annette finally had company come by. She approached the front door just as the next set of knocks occurred. “Just one second.” Annette opened the door to see her nephew’s bright, maturing face staring up at her. “Jacob, so good to see you.”

“Hey, aunt Annette,” said Jacob. The boy came in for a hug, which Annette repaid with a squeeze tight enough to illicit a small cough.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much,” said Annette. The woman repaid the hug before pushing the boy back to inspect. “And you’ve grown a lot since the last time I saw you.”

“Yeah, I just gave away a bunch of my clothes,” said Jacob, “And had to go buy all new ones.” Annette studied the boy, scanning him up and down. Jacob had reached a late growth spurt. The hearty teenager quickly became a lankier figure, only then reaching taller than her. She noticed a relatively new Element brand tee shirt and khaki shorts. His black flip flops matched the color of his nocturne hair. His hand gripped the handle to a personal sized dark blue suitcase.

“Eighteen, right?” Jacob nodded.

“Back in January,” said Jacob.

“That’s right, I sent you a gift card.”

“Thanks again for that,” said Jacob.

“Of course, anything for my not-so little nephew,” said Annette. “Well, come in. I know it’s been a long drive.” Jacob entered. He shifted nervously in his stance as he stood in the opening foyer. He looked around, surprised at just how vanilla and mundane his aunt’s house was. Images from the woman he had spent very little time with over the course of his life had only recently been revived with altered perception. He dropped his suitcase by the door. “So sorry for the mess. Truth be told, I was working and I kind of lost track of time.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” said Jacob. “There’s really nothing wrong here to notice.”

“You’re sweet,” said Annette. The woman headed into the kitchen. “Would you like something to eat or drink? I have snacks and sodas.”

“No, thanks,” said Jacob, still standing by the door, Annette poked her head out from the kitchen.

“You know, you can take a seat,” said Annette. “No need to be nervous around me. I won’t bite, I promise.” Jacob laughed, rubbing the back of his head.

“Thanks.” The boy traversed through the single story condominium. He came to a small living room. A leather couch and love seat set all pointed toward a plasma television hanging on the wall. On the coffee table in front of the couch, a laptop sat flipped open. Jacob saw the page pulled up and stared upon it in awe. Annette entered into the room with a can of Coca Cola and a can of Dr. Pepper.

“I didn’t know which you’d like more, so I just…” Annette froze once she noticed the boy reading her work. Jacob looked back and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been snooping,” said Jacob. The boy took a seat on the love seat. Annette released her gasp in the form of a sigh.

“It’s okay,” said Annette. “I’m usually not so open about my work. It’s pretty private.” The woman held up both cans before Jacob. Jacob reached out and grabbed the red and white Coke can before cracking it open. Annette opened her Dr. Pepper and plopped down on the couch. She promptly saved her work and closed her laptop. “So, it’s been a long time. How’s home life?”

“Good,” said Jacob. Annette waited for more of an answered, but continued when the silence lingered uncomfortably.

“And school?”

“Fine.” Jacob sipped away at his drink, more focused on playing with the tab than partaking.

“You going to get a job this summer?”

“Probably at my dad’s body shop,” said Jacob.

“To save money for college?”

“Once I get an acceptance letter,” said Jacob. His eyes often fell, bursting upward only to begin his answers.

“I’m sure you will,” said Annette. Jacob’s fingers twirled around each other. He sat upright, his back narrowly avoiding the back half of the seat. “Well, it’s very good to see you. I know it’s been a long time. What brings you by?” Jacob paused. His breath shivered. A tremor ran through his scrawny arms. “Is everything okay?”

“Uh huh,” Jacob said, still not looking up. His cheeks sank into a pool of rose.

“Well, if you want to talk, I’ll be around,” said Annette. “Please, help yourself to the tv, the fridge, and I’ll show you to the guest room when you’re ready.” Annette pushed herself up off the couch when Jacob stopped her from leaving.

“Your work, what you write online, can you tell me about that?” Every word, Jacob felt he must have pushed out of his mouth. Annette stalled and giggled beneath her breath.

“Oh, what, the romance stories? The fan fictions?” Annette asked. “Those are just little projects I do for fun. Nothing more than that.”

“No, the other stuff,” said Jacob. His voice flowed with higher confidence, while Annette fumbled for the correct dismissal.

“I don’t… I don’t know what you mean,” Annette said.

“MistressGalasis76,” Jacob said. Annette’s head collapsed. She sat back down and admitted the defeat of discovery.

“How did you put it together?”

“Mom told me a couple nights ago,” said Jacob.

“I knew I shouldn't have told Judy,” said Annette. “She hasn’t told anyone else that you know of?”

“I don’t think so,” said Jacob. “I haven’t told anyone either.” Annette fell back against the couch.

“Good,” said Annette. “Sorry, I’ve just spent so many years trying to keep this a secret.”

“I promise, I won’t tell anyone,” said Jacob. “I found your profiles and could tell that you’ve been doing this for a long time. You have a lot of fans.”

“All great people,” said Annette. “Those that don’t constantly ask for lewd pictures.” Jacob laughed as Annette nervously brushed off what could have been an uncomfortable moment.

“And I’ve read your stories,” said Jacob. “You’re really good. That one story with that girl being that sadistic woman’s caretaker. It gave me chills, in the good way.”

“Well, thank you,” said Annette. “I’m glad you can enjoy my work past how weird it must have been for you at first.”

“So, why do you write these things?” asked Jacob. “I mean, I’m glad that you do, but I guess what I’m trying to ask is why you chose to write about bondage and… tickling.” Jacob cringed upon uttering the word. Annette smirked.

“Well, Jake, I’ve kept this whole side of my life secret from those I’ve never imagined being involved,” said Annette, “but I suppose the easiest explanation is that I have a fetish for bondage and tickling.” The moment lingered in silence. Jacob smiled while still keeping his head down. His midnight crown nodded.

“That’s cool,” said Jacob. “Have you ever acted on any of these stories?”

“‘Acted’?”

“I mean, like, have you ever done any of the things you’ve mentioned in your stories?” Annette paused.

“You know, not for a really long time,” said Annette. “I won’t go too far into it, but I supposed I explored these fetishes much more when I was only a little older than you. I can’t say that I’ve been involved in anything too crazy; most of my stories are based on fantasies rather than real events, so no, nothing like anything that I’ve written.”

“But, fantasies?”

“Correct.” Annette grasped the soda can with both hands, allowing the chilling condensation leave its sweaty remains on her palms. “So, not that I don’t mind sharing, but why did you want to know all this? I’m sorry, I’m just not used to being so open about it.” Jacob hesitated. His breaths became loud, a skydiver before his first jump.

“No, it’s fine,” said Jacob, stuttering and fumbling. “I totally understand. I was just… I think I may… Wow, this is actually harder than I thought it would be.” Jacob commenced another series of calming breaths. “I was wondering if… you’d be willing to do to me what you do to the boys in your stories.” His voice drifted into silence, barely whispering the final syllables. Annette smirked, her tongue tucked away in her cheek.

“You’d want me to do to you what happens in my stories?” Annette asked. Jacob’s face dropped several shades of red at once. “Like, you want me to tie you up and…”

“... tickle me.” Jacob forced his eyes upward to meet Annette’s. “I know that seems weird, but I read your stories and, I don’t know, it seemed like fun. So, would you be interested?” The smile on Annette’s face seemed plastered. Her literal tongue-in-cheek expression came as telling as the boy’s sweating brow.

“Let me go ahead and show you to the guest room, to get you situated,” said Annette. The woman stood and took her nephew’s hand. Jacob stood, looming over Annette. His hand shook and perspired in hers. Annette dropped the boy’s hand as he swiped his bag by the door. Jacob followed her down a small hallway. One door remained closed. Another creaked open to a half bathroom. Jacob’s suitcase rolled into the plush carpet, leaving behind two parallel tracks.

Annette brought the boy to a room at the end of the hallway. Beige walls queued in the scent of clean dust. An oak chest of drawers faced a plush, cloudy bed, easily the largest bed that Jacob had ever seen, and raised with a thick wooden frame. A minimalist approach had been taken with the decor; the curtains around the window draped plain white ripples, an assortment of painted clay knick knacks rested atop the drawers and two nightstands, and a closet door remained shut. Jacob rolled his suitcase into the room and smiled upon inspection.

“It's nice,” said Jacob. “Thank you.” He laid the suitcase down next to the bed. Annette shut the bedroom door behind them as Jacob became accustomed to the room. Jacob turned when he heard the door shut behind him.

“Why don’t you go ahead and get those clothes off?” Annette instigated. Her tone changed from being friendly and conversational to a melodic whisper. Jacob paused. The boy slowly began pulling his shirt up over his slender frame. Annette took note at how stretching out thinned his torso from the plump little boy she had known from years prior. The woman turned as Jacob slipped off his flip flops and shorts, leaving him standing in the room in just his boxers.

“I’m done,” Jacob said quietly. Annette turned. His black hair fell limp over his eye as he looked down. His face darkened with a deep blush.

“Okay then,” said Annette. “Lie down on the bed. Spread those arms and legs for me. You know what to do.” Jacob obeyed his aunt, spreading his body out across the bed. Annette reached into the top drawer of the chest and pulled out a key, with which she promptly unlocked the closet. “You know, I’ve been using this room as storage for a long time. I still have a bunch of stuff from my college years tucked away. You know, just in case a fine young man like yourself ever gave me the opportunity to enact my stories.” Annette pulled out four leather straps, each equipped with a buckled cuff. The chains danced and clanged against one another. Jason’s eyes widened as they brightened. “A little old, but they should still do the trick. These babies held men much bigger than you in my day. Hold still.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jacob replied. The woman wrapped the leather cuff around Jacob’s left ankle, followed by his right. She came up next to the bed before strapping both of his wrists to both legs of the bed. Despite his lanky build, his arms just barely reached the edges of the enormous bed, leaving little room for Jacob to buckle his elbows or knees. Jacob’s breathing deepened. His eyes fell upon every move the woman made. She strutted around the room, drinking in the power over the boy that Jacob was so graciously handing to her.

“Shall we check to make sure they work?” Annette asked. Without waiting for a response from the boy, Annette launched her fingers into Jacob’s armpits. The boy let out a squeal, juxtaposed with a childish femininity, before reverting to manic laughter.

“Eeeekkkkkkk!!! Hahahahahahahahahahahahah!! Waaiiiittthahahahahahahah!!! I can’ttthehhehahahahahahahahah!!!” Jacob desperately pulled at his arms, his body’s natural responses taking over, but could only leave open two completely vulnerable, and highly ticklish, shallow caverns for his aunt to explore. Annette’s burgundy claws softly ripped away at Jacob’s most delicate nerves; brief, yet palpable.

“Oh my, you are a ticklish one,” said Annette, pulling her tickle tools away from the boy. “And look at that, the chains still held you. Good.” Annette strolled down to the bottom of the bed. Jacob tracked her every step. “But I think there’s still two more cuffs we need to test out first.” Jacob swallowed. His eyes begged for the woman not to, but he stifled his mouth from pleading. Annette chuckled as she reached down with both hands, hovering her nails just outside the soft, stretched flesh of his bare feet. Launching down on Jacob’s soles, Jacob’s back arched, letting out a wailing that Annette could only hope had not altered the neighbors.

“Aaaaahhhhhhh!! Hahhahahahahahahahahahahahah!!! Ohhhmyyyygodddhahahahahahahahahahah!!!” The tickling only lasted seconds, but was enough to darken Jacob’s face past that of embarrassment. Annette stopped and pulled back once the boy’s ankles sufficiently tugged at the two chained cuffs.

“Very good,” said Annette. The woman circled around and sat next to the boy on the bed. She ran her fingers through his hair, brushing his bangs out of his face. Jacob laid breathing, his eyes darting nervously back and forth, but never leaving Annette for longer than a couple seconds. Silence took over before Jacob gave into the anticipation.

“So, what are you going to do now?” Jacob asked. Annette smiled.

“Well, since I seemed to have lost track of time earlier and didn’t get to straighten up, I think that you could spare a little bit of patience for your aunt,” said Annette. The woman rose up off the bed. Jacob’s eyes, wide brown marbles, never left the woman as she approached the bedroom door. “Don’t make a peep or I may have to gag you too. I’ll be back soon, sweetie. Bye bye.” Annette blew the boy a kiss for exiting, shutting the door behind her. She listened for any noises the boy made from in the room, finding him obeying the silence she had commanded of him.

Annette left Jacob tied up in the guest bedroom as she attended to her chores. She let the radio play softly as the house became her new target to tackle. She addressed every inch of her condo not in perfect condition and set out to use her time most wisely. Annette straightened up the living room, collected all the trash into a garbage bag, and took the garbage outside when it started to pile over. The hard wood floors and tile in the kitchen and bathrooms each earned a thorough mopping and scrubbing. The carpet also got a deep cleaning treatment, going as far as circulating the baseboards. The surfaces shined, free of dust, after Annette danced her way from room to room. The dishes in the sink slowly disappeared. Annette took her time in cleaning out her refrigerator, garbage disposal, and replacing her air filter, all tasks she figured she would no longer put off for later days.

Hours passed. The house shined brighter than the day she bought it. Annette was putting on the finishing touches, humming tunes along with her radio, when her mind drifted to the boy waiting patiently for her in the guest bedroom. All the stories, scenarios, and guilty pleasured roleplays with ‘Anonymous’ she had crafted over the years led her imagination to take priority over experience. The boys bound, waiting for their mistresses were only passing faces on the bus. The women toying and torturing their young captors were mere models in the magazines she had stashed away. As she wiped clean her collection of inherited ceramic dog figurines, her mind drifted to Jacob. Trapped, bound, stripped, and surprisingly ticklish. She thought of her own nephew, waiting until maturity and courage caught up with him, willingly stepping into a web of her own design. For years, she had only fantasized about such an opportunity; the same opportunity waiting for her special attention. She wondered what tactics and moves she had only written about for the past twenty years that she would use on the boy. Annette decided, upon finishing her duties, that she would simply see where his stay with her would take them.

Annette cracked the door to the guest room open. Jacob looked in her direction. Sweat dangled off of the tails of his hair.

“Still awake, I see,” said Annette. She did her best to mimic the dialogue she would use in her stories. “Good. I like seeing my nephew being a good little boy.” She walked up to Jacob. Jacob opened his mouth to speak, but his words halted by Annette’s finger being held up to his lips. “Nuh uh. Don’t speak until I give you permission.” She sat down next to him. “I’ve been thinking about you, while cleaning the house. You know, it’s been such a long time since I’ve had someone who wants to be played with like this. Thank you for being open and honest with me. I’m glad to have this opportunity with you. Is there anything you’d like to say, with permission to speak, of course?” Jacob gazed into the woman’s eyes, a twitching curiosity.

“Thank you,” Jacob said faintly. Annette smirked.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” said Annette. “Save it until after I’m done with you.” Annette launched her nails back into the boy’s tender, plush armpits. Jacob reeled. His back arched and teeth clenched before succumbing to wave after wave of laughter.

“Ahhhhhhhhhahahahhahahahahahahah!!! Ooooohhhhgodddddhahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!” Jacob squealed and bucked, twisting his body side to side as far as the binds would allow. Annette just smirked as she gleefully played her nails right into Jacob’s pits.

“That laugh of yours is just so adorable,” Annette commented. “I could listen to it all night.” Little by little, Jacob’s fatigue faded. His energy returned in progressive bursts of shrieks and rapid body movement. The sweat that had accumulated in his armpits provided the perfect lubricant for Annette’s finely manicured nails to slip against the sensitive skin. She moved up his arms, then back down to the upper portion of his ribs, before returning to focus on the plush mounds the stretched out pits created.

“Ahhahahahahahahahahahahaha!!! Plllehehehehahahahssseeeessssttthahahahahahappppphahahahahahahah!!!” Each scrape sent Jacob hurdling deeper into his own hysteria.

“‘Please stop’?” Annette asked. “But you want this, right? You asked for this. Tell me that you like it, that you like being defenseless and tickled by your dear ol’ aunt.” Jacob refrained from his orders, finding the laughter too dense to speak through on command. “If you don’t, then I’ll stop and never, ever tickle you again. Is that what you want?” Jacob managed to shake his head.

“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahah!!! I like ittthahahahahahahahahahahahahah!!! I likeeehehehehhahahahaha it!!! Hahahahahahahahahahah!!!”

“Good boy,” said Annette. “Let's see where else I can play with my good little boy.” Annette diverted her scribbling nails down to Jacob’s ribs. The boy threw his head back and began to howl. “My, my. Here too? It must be my lucky day.” One by one, she counted his rubs on both sides of his slender frame. Her nails pinched and scratched against each one, dwelling on the explosions of laughter that each scrape resulted.

“Ooohhhhgodddhahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!! I'm sooooo hahahahahahahahahah ticklishhhhehehehahahahahaha!!!” Side to side dodges quickly turned into up and down bucks. No matter where Jacob tried to escape, Annette’s nails found him, locking onto the sensitive skin of his bare torso.

“Heehee… tickle, tickle, tickle,” Annette teased. She continued teasing with taunting phrases. Jacob found himself sinking further into the role of a ticklish, helpless, little boy with each demeaning phrase. “Who's my ticklish little boy?” It had not taken long for Jacob to start responding with screams intermingling with his laughter.

“Hahahahahahahhahahahah!!! I ammmmhahahahahahahahha!!! I'm your hahahahahahahahahah ticklish little hahahahahahahahahahah boyyyyyheeheehahahahahahahahahahahah!!!” Annette giggled and relaxed into her position. She slid her fingers downward toward.

“And what about these cute little sides of yours?” Annette teased. Jacob only had time to look back up, wide eyed, before being thrust right back into a cyclone of ticklishness. Annette started squeezing his sides, foregoing light scratches for kneading digs.

“AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHhahahahahahahahahahhahahahahaha!!! Ppllehehehehaaassehehehahahahahahahahahahah!!!” Jacob’s body began to fall limp, sinking into defeated inactivity as if acknowledging his role as a tickle toy and using all of his energy for the laughter that Annette manufactured. Annette straddled the boy's waist, giving herself the perfect position to hold down his hips while her fingers tickle tortured away at Jacob’s frail sides.

“‘Please’... more? Okay!” The woman laughed as she dug her fingers into Jacob’s sides harder and faster. Pinching and kneading the flesh, Jacob’s laughter was only broken up by scattered whimpers.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! NNNNHAHAHAHAHAHAHOOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Jacob bucked and thrashed against the bed, nearly knocking Annette off completely. The woman held on, moving in counter with his spastic reactions.

“Alive again, are we?” Annette asked. “You and I are going to have a lot of fun together.” She surprised her nephew with instant tummy tickles, bringing in both her hands to attack the pale, soft center of his belly. Jacob shrieked once again, followed by expelling a new fleet of manic laughter.

“NNNNAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Jacob’s laughter was piercing, yet musical; a delightful tone that reminded Annette of years past. Tears fell down the sides of his face. He'd try to sniffle and dry his open mouth, the only times when he was not so completely overtaken with hysteria. Annette’s fingers kneaded into the skin, giving light, clawing pinches and moving sporadically around the area.

“I am so glad that you came here and asked me to do this to you, Jake,” said Annette. “It must have taken a lot of courage. I want to make sure that you get everything that you could have expected.” She continued to skitter her nails around Jacob’s tummy until one fingernail slipped inside his belly button. “Oops.” Annette giggled as Jacob thrashed, his laughter reaching a new volume.

“AAAAAHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! NOT THERE! NOT THERE! NOT THHEEEHEHEHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Jacob screamed and screamed until his voice began to dry out. Still, Annette kept on her delicate expedition of his shallow navel.

“Heehee, oh hush now,” said Annette, scratching away at the tender cavern with a single index finger. “You asked for this and I know you're having a great time.” Her other hand was still occupied by clawing away at his tummy. The single nail twisted and scraped against the inner wall of his bellybutton. Jacob’s chest rose and fell in rapid rhythms. Sweat and tears covered his face like a sheet. Each time he trashed his head back and forth, he sprayed the room with his long, drenched black strands.

His laughter started to fade to tired gasps. Annette lifted herself up off the boy and stepped onto the floor next to the bed. Jacob panted through his brief break. His eyes stung, but remained planted on the woman once he regained enough strength.

“Mmm, someone's giving out on me,” said Annette. The woman paced around the boy. “I think you still have at least another hour in you, don't you? You say yes, or I'll never do this for you ever again.” Jacob nodded.

“Y-yes....” Jacob swallowed to moisten his dusty throat.

“That’s good to hear,” said Annette. The woman ran her nails down Jacob’s thigh and lightly grazed beneath his knee, delivering upon him giggles and twitches. “Because I’m having so much fun with you. So much that I may keep you here, all tied up, for the rest of the night.” Jacob stared down at the woman as she approached the foot of the bed. She hovered her nails just off of his arched, smooth soles. Annette kept her hands still, drinking in the look of fearful anticipation on her nephew’s face. “Ask for it. Why don’t you ask me nicely to tickle your feet? If you don’t…”

“Pl-please…. Tickle my feet…”

“Mmm, that’s what I like to hear,” said Annette. All four chained cuffs slammed against the spokes of the bed once Annette began her assault on Jacob’s soles.

“WWWWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!! OOOHHHHMYYGODDDHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!” Jacob forced out as much of a scream as his lungs would allow. Annette’s scraping nails darted and spidered all over his long, slick soles. Like malicious teams of bugs, Annette’s tickle tools moved up from his heels, scratched against his arches, lightly licking the bases of his toes, and glided back down for another trip. Jacob could only wail, allowing his body to trash whichever way it could. Annette kept up with Jacob’s squirming feet, however, never letting his soles slip out of reach of her nails for a second.

“My, my, someone can really scream,” said Annette. “I hope we won’t keep up the neighbors at three in the morning. Then again, I could just gag you. Oh, so many options for keeping our fun going!” The nails scratched harder and faster against the soft, slippery with sweat surfaces of Jacob’s soles. Laughing became a struggle as his breaths began to escape him. His cheeks lit up like stop lights. His chest heaved and pounded. His limbs twitched and shivered. Several minutes after, when his body started to go limp, Annette retreated. “Don’t give out on me yet. You did say at least another hour. I know what will help.” Her hands fell once again, placing her nails right beneath Jacob’s toes.

“NNNNNNNNAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHhahahahahahah……….hahahahahahahHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHhahahahahahahahnnnnnaaaaahhhtttthhhheeee…...hahahahAHAHAHAHAHTOOOOEEEESSSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!” Ticklish surges raced through Jacob’s body, spending every last bit of energy the boy retained on bucking and squealing laughter. Annette chuckled. Her nails danced lightly against the stems and flicking right beneath the pads.

“Oh, and I’m barely doing anything at all,” said Annette. ‘You have a long way to go before you can really handle me. Lucky for you, we have plenty of time to get you there.” Again and again, her crimson claws scraped every last laughing breath out of the boy from the delicate nerves of his toes. She wiggled her fingers in between each and glided her nails against every soft, pink pad. Minutes flew by like hours, leaving Jacob in a ticklish hell that far surpassed his wildest expectations. Annette gleefully sank into her work, assuming the role of the tickle artisan which made it into so many of her stories. An actual fantasy come true, Jacob had graced her with the opportunity to try each and every tickle tactic and torture that she had written about throughout her online writing career.

When Jacob’s laughs became more gasps, pleas for air than mercy, Annette pulled away. She watched Jacob’s body rise and fall, catching his breath. The woman came up to his face and wiped it clean of sweat. His eyes rested with great distance, nearly rolling into the back of his head.

“Someone had a lot of fun tonight, didn’t he?” asked Annette. She chuckled before placing a loving kiss on the boy’s cheek. “Now, what do we say?”

“Th-tha-thank… y-you…”

“You’re quite welcome,” said Annette, tenderly caressing his hair out of his face. “I’m really glad that you asked me for this today. You’re a lot braver than I’ve been, I’ll tell you that. And this is just what I needed too. But we’re going to have to work on your endurance.” Jacob nodded, forcing the tails of his lips up in a smile.

“O-okay… W-wh-when?”

“I think you’ve had a long enough break,” said Annette. The woman launched her scribbling nails viciously back into the plush hollows of Jacob’s armpits. Rejuvenated with a short break, The boy let out a bursting shriek, followed by a rousing belting of laughter.

“WWWWAAAIIIIIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH!!! I CAAANNNNTTTHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH!!!” Thrust right back into the depths of his own ticklishness, Jacob thrashed in his binds. His head shook side to side, flinging sweat and tears every which way. His arms and legs pulled against the cuffs. His chest heaved with the yearning hunger of his lungs. Annette assumed a comfortable position to continue savoring the active application of her expertise. She had the rest of that hour to fill with his laughter.

From there, Jacob’s stay crawled by in a nightmare of his own design. The night, that first night, prepared him little for the extent of his aunt’s sadistic imagination. He spent much of his stay bound to that bed, suffering the tortures of his cruel desires. Annette pushed him closer to a complete breaking point than the young, supple boy had ever been pushed before. With every bit of bondage and ticklish torment knowledge that she had researched and contrived over the years used on the boy, Annette knew not if he would ever step foot on her porch again. She did know, however, that Jacob certainly earned a principle role in her latest ticklish tale.
 
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