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KI
Andromeda part 1 (fff/f, non-con)
by
Kid Indy
Nothing sounds quite like Dupont Circle late on a Friday night. Out of a dozen clubs the booming bass of dance floors filled the cool air, and beats from around the world got bodies dancing inside. On the sidewalks, even though they shouldn’t have worked together, somehow they did. For blocks in every direction clusters of people, so many worth a second look, wandered from bar to club to coffee shop having the good times that news TV never seems to find in their silent footage of Washington’s grand marble columns and white men in suits. Young and old alike enjoyed the cool autumn air and the hot music pounding out from doors and windows, and money from all around the world changed hands quickly, without reserve. Everywhere the eye turned a beautiful face and a beautiful body awaited, long lets and lean bodies and smiles that had spent the day making the imperial city run were now free to find what they wanted, even for an evening.
Among the creatures of the night one pair of shoes moved with particular purpose. Katie’s assignment from Interest magazine was a strange one: usually her beat was women in their thirties who were emerging as power players among the staffers and lobbyists and players on the DC scene. This time she was investigating the sudden retirement of Traci Carter, a top lobbyist for one of the health-insurance giants, who had disappeared from K Street without warning at age 46 only to resurface weeks later in Kansas, having started a new life as a small-town banker, unwilling to give reporters anything beyond the standard “spend more time with my family” about why she suddenly left the Washington scene where she had become one of the true power players in the most powerful city on the planet. With her departure, the companies that relied on her connections and persuasion and history in the city had taken a hit that measured in the billions of dollars and years of lost influence, and Carter’s name overnight became useless, a reminder of how fast fortunes turn in DC.
Katie looked down at her own outfit and rolled her eyes at the look. She kept herself fit at 42, but she was not accustomed to being out on the cougar-scene on a weekend; since her divorce--no kids, fortunately--she had devoted herself to her work, taking what evenings she could to stay in her apartment reading, occasionally catching up when friends from her Georgetown days dropped in for a visit, but mainly keeping to herself and her work. She definitely caught the stray Washington intern-bro taking her in here and there, and it was good to know that her long legs and still-striking eyes still had something to offer to the young and the horny of DC. But she wasn’t out tonight to teach Harvard boys the ways of the world; when she got to Midnight Paradise, she was there to break open the elusive story. Something had happened to Traci Carter just before that budget bill was about to go to committee, and Katie alone had the exclusive angle on the mysterious criminals who seemed to have created this unimaginable glitch in the system that was Washington lobbying.
She spotted the sign marking the entrance, and she remembered the long hours scanning public records in northern Virginia. Either Carter or someone involved with Carter had spared no labor and--Katie guessed--no expense making sure the court records revealed as little detail as possible. The District Attorney had charged three women of unlawful confinement and assault, but the court reporter’s documents mentioned nothing about the events of the week in question except for the dates and times. Nothing in the public record revealed what had happened to Traci Carter between the time that she disappeared on a Thursday evening and reappeared Sunday afternoon. Her subsequent work with state police to track down her abductors had some details on the chase but nothing of the Friday and Saturday when she was missing or what had ultimately driven her from Washington.
But then Katie’s luck turned: when an investigator she hired was calling in Virginia Department of Corrections contacts for names involved in the case, he discovered that the three abductors--they weren’t legally kidnappers because they had never made any demands for Carter’s release--had only spent two months in prison after being convicted and were back on the streets. A solid month of her own search had tracked them back to Washington, and now she had her meet-up with them.
She walked into the club, her eyes scanning the room.
Dance floor, negative.
Bar stools, negative.
Back booth. There they were. Two looked either Latina or Polynesian--hard to tell at a distance--one with black hair, another dyed bright pink. A third, a white girl, wore her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. Katie’s own white legs made their way towards the booth, where the three girls looked up at her with some mixture of sneer and leer.
“What do you want?” The white one’s thick New Jersey accent was unmistakable.
“Katie Jones. I’m here to talk to you.” She showed them her phone for good measure.
The two other girls looked at each other with a grin. Pink hair spoke first. “Kick your shoes off and join us, Katie!”
“I think I’ll keep them on for now.”
The black-haired girl chimed in. “Pity.”
Katie slid into the booth across from the blonde and the pink-haired girl, next to the one with dark hair. “So first things first: can I use your names in my story?”
She felt the girl next to her before she heard her whisper, “Call me Casi.”
Next pink-hair spoke up. “I’m Zoe.”
Katie thumbed some quick notes into her phone as the white girl said, “And I’m Gina.”
Katie made a mental note: they weren’t using aliases; these were the names from the court records. “Can I record our conversation tonight for my notes?” Once again the girls nodded, and once again they glanced back and forth at each other with knowing, smirking grins. Katie already didn’t like these girls. “We’re going to get to the case of Traci Carter, but first I need to know: how did you manage to leave the state prison so early? What happened to your unlawful confinement charges?
Gina licked her lips and answered, “We were little problems, and we helped the warden with a big problem. So she cut a deal.”
“Big problem?”
Now Casi chimed in. “Mama Sam.”
“Go on.”
Zoe took over the thread. “Mama Sam was running the smack into the prison, and the warden couldn’t touch her. Big drug-gang lawyers protecting her, so they couldn’t lean on her any.”
Katie’s eyebrow raised. “So how did three… how old are you?”
Casi: “Twenty-two, sugar.”
Zoe: “Twenty-four.”
Gina. “Twenty-one.”
“How did three girls in their twenties take down a gangster and her lawyer?”
Zoe leaned in towards Katie. “We haven’t gotten a chance to work on the lawyer yet, just Mama Sam, but some day!” The other two laughed.
Katie was starting to get nervous. “What do you mean, work on her?”
Zoe kept talking. “Mama Sam was the real deal and had muscle inside, so nobody without connections could get to her there. And the state police knew that if Mama Sam got hurt the lawyers would sue the prison, but they knew about us from the stories about Traci Carter. So they made up a reason to put Mama Sam in solitary, then early in the morning, the guards cuffed her and left, and we went to work on her.”
“You keep saying work. What do you mean?”
Casi began to talk. “Have you ever been tied up, Katie Jones?”
Katie scooted away from her on the bench. “So what are you talking about? Stress positions? Waterboarding?”
Casi laughed. “No, sugar. Nothing like that. But when you can’t get away, any little touch does something crazy to your skin.” Katie tried to scoot away again but was running out of bench. Casi kept talking: “And even someone as tough as Mama Sam can’t hold up long when three Andromeda girls can have our way with her feet.”
Katie heard herself gasp and scowled at her own reaction. Gina giggled and joined in. “Do you know what we’re talking about now?”
“Were you hitting her with a belt or something?”
Gina and Zoe exchanged a knowing glance. Casi scooted thigh-to-thigh with Katie and leaned in again, whispering, “Go ahead and say it, sugar!”
Katie’s heart pounded as she stood and faced the three women. “Alright, enough games! Why did the warden let you out of prison so early?”
Casi scooted towards the wall again and patted the wood next to her. “Sit down with us, and we’ll tell you.”
Katie scanned the place with her eyes. They weren’t likely to attempt anything violent; the place was full, and there were dozens of people between them and the nearest exit. She collected her wits, checked to make sure her recorder was still running, and sat slowly again. “Now give me some facts I can use. How did you get your sentences reduced?”
This time Gina took the lead. “Mama Sam told us when the next delivery was coming, and the State Police were waiting.”
Katie leaned over the table. “You just said that nobody could hurt Mama Sam. Why did Mama Sam give you that information?”
Casi gave the other two a hand signal to give her the floor. “The warden had heard of us when we showed up, and she had tried everything legal to bust up Mama Sam’s ring. So we cut a deal with her: we’d get Mama Sam to give up the time and place to catch the next shipment so that they could lean on some low-level mules and get higher up the food chain. We wouldn’t leave a mark on her body for the lawyers to use as fodder for a civil suit. And Mama Sam would get a transfer and a witness-protection identity once everything was over.”
“So one night, after lights out, they sent three guards to Mama Sam’s cell and took her out to solitary. That’s all they said, and they said it loud. For all anyone knew, they were just going to let her stew for a few days in hopes that she would give something up. I’m sure the lawyers were on the phone within hours, but there was no way for them to know. In the meantime, they had moved a barber’s chair from the prison’s hair cutter into the solitary room, and we had made some modifications to it. We were hiding in the dark, so we could see her, but she couldn’t see us. They sat her in the barber’s chair, and they used the leather belts we had asked for to tie her forearms and calves to the chair. We waited there while Mama Sam yelled and threatened for a while. Once she got quiet, we came out of the shadows.”
Casi didn’t lean in this time but just kept the story going: “You should have seen the look on her face when she realized the guards had left her to us. She was acting all tough, but you could tell she was waiting for the blades to come out or at least to take a beating. But that’s not what they brought us in for, was it?”
Gina grinned at her conspirator. “And she had no idea what was coming when Zoe and I started to take off her shoes. And then her socks. Those feet were something, though. Mama Sam’s a Latina, so they were those great feet with mocha on top and cream on the bottom.”
Casi again: “I did take out a lighter and lit it up to scare her. We were never going to burn those great feet, but the fear added to what was coming.”
Zoe jumped in. “She started to scream at us that if they found any bruises or cuts on her, the cartel’s people were coming hard to take all of us out. But we weren’t there to leave any bruises or cuts, were we?”
Gina answered, “No, but she wasn’t ever going to forget, even if there were no signs in the morning!”
Katie shook her head, confused. “Is this some kind of foot fetish thing?”
Zoe laughed. “Not for Mama Sam it wasn’t--she thought we were going to burn her, and she still didn’t know what we were after!” The other two girls laughed, then all got quiet, waiting for Katie to ask the question that was filling the air.
“What did you do with her feet?”
Gina put her hands on the table and locked eyes with Katie. “We always start slow so that our mark knows what’s coming. The anticipation makes it so much tastier once we start in for real.” Katie’s mouth was now opened as she awaited--and somehow already knew--what came next. “Casi there got to start in on her. One fingertip on her left sole, slow circles starting in the middle and working their way out. The tough ones like Mama Sam always threaten first--called us all kinds of nasty things in her Puerto Rican Spanglish. But Casi just kept circling, and circling, and then I pulled the toes on her right foot back so that the skin was stretched tight, and when she felt my fingers start down that sole, she stopped threatening and gritted her teeth. That’s how you know you’re about to win--when they stop talking and start trying not to make any sound.”
“You mean you were…”
Zoe licked her lips. “Say it.”
“When she was tied up you…”
Zoe was a cat playing with her prey. “You won’t believe it unless you can say it!”
“You were tickling her feet?”
Casi pinched Katie’s side, and the veteran reporter, wound up with anticipation, jumped and screamed, and she was off the bench again. She put her hand down on the table again. “Stop that! Tell me how you really got out of prison!”
Zoe was still all grin. “Casi, honey, can you just imagine what we could do with pretty Katie’s feet?”
Casi raised an eyebrow and smiled from ear to ear. “I think Katie would go through the roof if we started working on those toes of hers.”
Gina now looked Katie directly in the eyes. “You’re not going to get this story unless you can sit with us. We promise Casi will try to behave, but you were just so tense--she has an instinct for the moments when a tickle is going to blow someone up.”
Katie hadn’t done all of the work tracking these girls down to run away at a little lesbian flirtation. She sat down. “After you tickled her feet what did you do to get the information?”
Zoe wanted to be the storyteller now. “Oh, there wasn’t any ‘after you tickled her feet’ anywhere in her near future. I let Casi and Gina work on her for a while so I could watch. I didn’t want to tag in just yet.”
“Tag in?”
Casi explained: “A woman only has two feet. There are three of us. That’s what makes an Andromeda team so deadly. While two of us tickle, the third watches so that she can see what kinds of attacks make her crazy fastest and what spots are the most ticklish. Gina here likes to tag in as soon as she sees a really ticklish spot. Zoe wants to get a bigger picture. But whenever Andromeda works you over, there are three of us on the scene, and you’re going to get more and more ticklish every minute because while two of us tickle, one of us is always watching to see what tickles you the most.”
Katie tried to hide a shudder. “So how long before she answered your questions?”
Gina laughed at the question. “Isn’t she cute, Casi? She wants to get out of this part of the story as fast as she can. I’ll bet her toes are curling up inside of her shoes thinking about what the three of us did to Mama Sam!”
Katie’s pulse was pounding; there was no doubt that the story was making her very nervous about her own feet, but she wasn’t going to show these girls. “How long?”
Gina licked her teeth before she answered, “We didn’t ask any questions yet. She wasn’t laughing hard enough. We never let a woman know what we want until she knows beyond a doubt the only thing she wants.” Katie held her breath, trying not to let her rising panic show. Gina continued. “She was laughing pretty hard when Zoe tagged me out, and I watched to see that, when Casi was working her soles, she was getting Mama Sam to squirm like crazy when she got around the heels. I’m sure Zoe was going to town on the other foot, but we only watch the foot we’re going to tag in on. So I let Casi go at her for a little while longer, and while she was finishing up, I got the olive oil out that the prison guards had gotten for us.”
“Olive oil?”
Zoe chimed in. “Makes the soles friction-free. If you can move your fingertips fast and dig in, most women can’t stand that tickling at all!”
Casi added, “And if you can get that oil warmed up and those fingertips moving fast, your soles might as well be your clit, sugar--we’re talking about a tickling that’s going to get you hot like no man’s ever going to get you hot!” Katie could feel herself recoil, and all three girls laughed at her.
Gina picked the story back up. “When I tagged Casi out, I didn’t start tickling right away: I drizzled some of that olive oil on her sole and rubbed it in, especially on her heel. Then I started tickling just around the heel, and she started begging, promising us sex, money, drugs, whatever we wanted.”
“And then she told you and you stopped right?”
Casi giggled. “Can’t we give her just a little demonstration?”
Zoe wagged her finger at Casi. “Casi, don’t spook her again. This is just where the story gets good! No, Katie, we didn’t stop then, and we didn’t even ask any questions yet. Once she started begging, Casi tagged back in, and we oiled up both of her feet. We tagged in four or five times, every new tickler going to the spots that were lighting her up, always following the jolt.”
“What’s the jolt?”
Gina jumped in, and Katie realized that they were tag-teaming her in this conversation. “If you just tickle in one spot, she’s going to get used to it. Even with the oil that happens. But if you just tickle at random, you might go to a place where she’s more ticklish, but you might go to a place that isn’t responding at all. An Andromeda team is always going to follow the jolt--tickle in spots that make her jump and squirm until she can’t jump and squirm any more, then start wandering until the jolt makes her jump and squirm again.”
Katie felt a sudden surge in her own breathing, and she realized that none of the three girls had touched her. She squeezed her thighs together and continued to listen. “How long does a jolt last?”
Casi leered at Katie. “Longer than any woman wants it to--that’s what makes what we do so fun--for us, at least. Most women are only ticklish in one spot for a few delicious moments, but if you follow the jolt, you can keep a lady laughing for much, much longer.”
And now Zoe again: “And that’s before we get to the tools. Out in the world we’re talking vibrators and engraving tools and all kinds of battery-operated fun. In prison we made do with a hairbrush.”
Katie’s dread knew the answer before she posed the question: “What do you do with the hairbrush?”
Gina: “A fingertip on oiled skin is very personal, very intimate. Some women won’t admit it, but it’s a turn-on, no matter what kinds of people turn you on in other moments. But a hairbrush, the kind with the little plastic nubs on the bristles, against oil? No sex getting in the way there--it’s just ticklish feet meat turned up to eleven. It’s like a mean little army of hands tickling your foot all at once.”
Casi: “It’s torture, baby!”
Zoe: “And that’s when we started leading Mama Sam where she was so desperate to take us. Casi was taking a hairbrush to one sole, and Gina was making circles on the other foot with another hairbrush. Mama Sam was broken--she could barely breathe she was laughing so hard. So we started asking questions.”
“Where the drop was going to happen?”
Gina started in again. “No, that might have brought her back into the moment. She might have lied. No, while we were making her scream and giggle with those hairbrushes, Zoe started asking her about getting in on the business. Told her we had bribed the guards with sex because we knew Mama Sam was the head of the big money. Things like that. And after Zoe built up that story, she tagged in so that she could work on her foot with that hairbrush, and I started talking.”
Casi took over the story. “So Zoe is the meanest of the three of us with a hairbrush, so Mama Sam would have done anything to get her to stop. That’s when she started volunteering to us when and where the next drop was happening, told us to be there so that she could cut us in. Told us we would really be inside if we would just stop.”
“So you stopped, right?”
Zoe flashed a toothy grin at Katie. “Not yet, Katie dear. She might have been lying, and we needed to know. So we put away the hairbrushes, and we went back to slow, sensuous finger-tickling. Mama Sam could breathe again, but her feet were all nerves at this point, so we stopped looking for screaming spots and started looking for moaning spots. She was a lonely woman--it didn’t take long.”
Casi was right up in Katie’s ear again: “You see, men might think that your pussy and your titties are the only places that can send you to the moon, but the jolt can get you off just as hard, and we were following that jolt wherever it went! That warm oil on her soles was making Gina’s fingers into weapons, and she found a place right in the middle of her sole that brought Mama Sam’s hips back to life!”
Zoe was all grin now. “I was watching for the jolt when Gina found that mark. Mama Sam started twisting and humping the air and doing anything she could to work her own pants into herself. But there was no time for that: I tagged Gina out and went right to that spot, and she was done for. Moan, scream, rattle: those are the sounds that let you know you’ve won, and even if you’re the toughest drug-dealing Latina warlord in the joint, a ticklish orgasm is going to make your feet twice as ticklish as they were before, and at this point she’s just begging to tell us everything about her operation so that she can get her hands back!”
Casi giggled in Katie’s ear. “But we weren’t going to let her! Gina tagged me out, and she got that brush again, and for the next ten minutes, Mama Sam would have done anything for us--money, sex, drugs, hand over her own mother, anything, just to get us to stop and let her slink off and finish herself off right.”
Zoe: “But that’s not how Andromeda works. You’ve got to make sure she’s too scared to lie to you, and you’ve got to be sure that she tells everyone she knows never to mess with Andromeda!”
Gina got Katie’s attention and went back to summarizing: “We made her repeat the details to us four or five more times. The details never changed, so we stopped for the night. That’s when we called the guards back in, and Gina told her what was really going down.”
Casi took over the narrative again: “Now she was really begging us, offering us the world and more if we didn’t take it to the State Police. But we kept our eyes on the prize, and we set Mama Sam up for one last undercover drop. We let her know, and never let her forget, that all three of us had heard her say where and when the next drop was coming, several times, and she was going to be in solitary until that drop happened. The Staties were waiting when Mama Sam showed up when the truck with the drugs pulled up, and they picked up the mid-level guys who were supplying the prison’s drug habits.”
Gina finished the epilogue: “And now Mama Sam is in witness protection, out of that prison, and we got let out a few weeks later on parole.”
“How old was Mama Sam?”
Zoe smiled. “Was? You think she got killed for it?”
“Okay, how old is she?”
“Forty-five. Somewhere in there.”
Katie felt herself shudder, and immediately she sensed all three of the girls sizing her up. She deflected quickly. “And that’s about how hold Traci Carter is too, right?”
Casi leaned in, a move that still hadn’t stopped making Katie nervous. “She’s about that old, yeah. White woman. Doesn’t have that Latina fire, but she was as ticklish as any of us ever hoped. White women usually don’t know just how fun things get when you can’t kick away or cover up.”
Gina scratched her fingernails across the table. “That’s right, Casi. A pair of nice pink feet can last us for hours!”
Katie heard her voice rise in pitch as she tried to follow up. “Why did you target her? Why an insurance lobbyist?”
Zoe held up a hand and rubbed the tip of her thumb against her bent finger. “We don’t ask. Our bosses get paid, and we get paid, and that’s where we do what we do.”
Katie let out a small gasp. Casi laughed. “Why do you think they told us to get caught?”
“What do you mean they told you to get caught? Who are ‘they’?”
Gina motioned with a flat hand in front of her neck for Casi not to say anything else. “Doesn’t matter. What you need to know is that Andromeda is going to be even more powerful now that word is getting out what we did to Mama Sam.”
Katie’s mind was racing, and she wished she had brought a notebook. “Who paid you to target Traci Carter?”
Zoe licked her lips and leaned in. “Someone who wanted her out of the game. If you want any more, you’re going to have to take those shoes off, sugar!”
Casi put a hand on Katie’s shoulder. “And put those pink tootsies in my lap for a while!”
Suddenly Gina was all business. “Both of you stop. Nobody is revealing any clients tonight.” She turned to Katie. “When we do what we do, nobody leaves a mark, but we can leave a target out of her mind. Everyone who hires us knows this, and that’s why we get hired. Now do you want to hear about Traci Carter or not?” Katie nodded. “Somebody--and you don’t get to ask who--wanted to take her out of the food chain last year when Congress was putting together their latest budget. She had connections with a pair of big names in Ways and Means, and her presence at their committee hearings might have tipped the scales.”
Casi couldn’t help herself. “And if she suddenly split town to hide out in corn country, it might tip those scales the other way!”
Gina acknowledged Casi, then continued. “So they sent us to take care of things and get caught. Now the nice thing about the Carter job is that she’s never on TV cameras, and nobody ever voted for her, so she didn’t have any kind of security. So it was just a matter of getting eyes on her and watching for the moments when we could make our move.”
Zoe, getting bored with this part of the story, interjected, “That wasn’t the only nice thing about Carter. She wasn’t built like a runway model--she’d had a couple of kids--but those feet of hers were two big live wires!”
Casi wanted in on the fun: “Come on, Katie, let us try yours out, just for a test drive!”
Katie knew she had to get Gina talking again, for the sake of the story and to get her out of this uncomfortable moment. She locked eyes with Gina to get the other two off of her mind. “So her morning commute? Something like that?”
Gina was happy to comply. “Bingo. She had moved her husband and her kids to the Maryland suburbs, so those forty minutes every day were when she was most exposed.”
Zoe was ready to talk shop again: “So sent Gina in--she’s white, so she doesn’t raise as much suspicion--to take a jog in Carter’s neighborhood. She planted a radio-controlled device in her wheel well, and the trap was set. We waited until she hit the beltway, and we hit the button, and a nail went right into the rubber. Her front tire went flat in about a mile of driving.”
Casi was getting in on the excitement now: “Isn’t this spy stuff fun? So we waited until she called a tow truck, and that’s when Andromeda’s tow truck showed up.”
Gina corrected Casi. “Andromeda doesn’t own a tow truck, of course, but we had hired a guy to steal one and be in the right place at the right time to get there and acquire the target. Triple-A usually takes about forty-five minutes to respond to a call. Our guy was there in twelve.”
Zoe laughed. “She must have thought it must be her lucky day!”
Casi joined in. “Oh, she got lucky before the day was up!”
Gina, rolling her eyes, continued. “Our guy loaded her car onto the back of the truck and offered her a ride to the nearest rental car place. So that gave him occasion to get off the Interstate and head back towards the suburbs. When triple-A did get there they didn’t see any car, but that’s not unusual (plenty of people run out of patience with triple-A), so we still had plenty of time to get her where we wanted her before anyone even thought about looking into their logs.”
Zoe: “So she was calling her office and calling her family and calling everyone who needed calling to let them know just where she was and just how long she’d be and all of that. Standard stuff. Only gave us a narrow window to get her away from her vehicle and down the road.”
Casi: “So our guy makes an excuse to get away from the main roads--said he needed to gas up, and he knew a place that was cheaper than the chain gas stations. Total lie, but that’s why we hired him, right? When he got out of the truck on his side, we rolled up on the passenger side.”
Gina took back over: “Once she saw the gun, she wasn’t going to make any trouble. We took her phone and turned it off and ditched it, and we zip-tied her while the driver wiped the cab down and took off on foot to meet up with his getaway. We loaded her in the back of our van and put a bag over her head, and Casi drove us out of there. We had a safehouse with a basement out beyond the suburbs. So that’s where we took her, and we took her down into the basement before we unbagged her. But we let her have a look around before we got to work on her.”
“What do you mean? What did you show her?”
Zoe was ready for that question. “Torture racks. Stocks. Beds with restraining cuffs on the posts. All kinds of medieval stuff we keep in there. We wanted her to have a good, long look at what was waiting for her.”
Casi was in Katie’s ear again: “If you can see all the equipment that’s going to hold you in place, that’s the setup. Makes you a lot more sensitive when the torture starts. So we let her look around a long time and start begging us before we ever put her in the vertical stocks.”
“Vertical stocks?”
Casi spoke out of turn, her excitement audible in her voice. “We lay you down on a twin mattress, and your feet go straight up into the air into a wood frame.”
Zoe giggled at Casi’s rising voice. “So if you’re wearing a dress--and she was--it rides right up on you before we ever start working on you, and it rides up even more if your booty gets moving.”
Casi again: “And oh, did we get that white booty wiggling!”
Gina elbowed her way back into the story. “We lowered her down onto the mattress and made sure her head was on a pillow, and then we moved her ankles into the cuffs. They’re padded thick to make sure no injuries cut the session short.”
Katie suddenly realized that all three were speaking of these racks in the present tense. “Wait, is this place still there?”
Casi started to wrap a serpent-like arm around Katie’s waist. “We can take you there if you want, honey. I know just where I’d like to have you and those feet of yours!”
Gina cut her off again. “No, Casi, we’re not taking any reporter to our safehouse!”
“Not even if we bag her up so she can’t see? I want to tickle her feet!”
Katie was in anguish: she had to get that arm off of her body, but she didn’t want to disrupt the interview just as it was getting somewhere.
Gina again: “We’re here to tell her our story and get in the papers, Casi. Remember, we’re pros, not hobbyists.”
Casi pouted, and Katie had to remove the mocha arm from around her body. She looked across the table again as she unceremoniously dropped the arm down beside her. “Why do you put her legs in the air?”
Zoe seemed to know and to love that these questions were coming. “That way we can sit on stools and get to her feet most easily. Besides that, if we can run some fingernails down the leg, from the knee down to the ass, and then inside from the knee up to the pussy, it doesn’t matter how tough you are--every part of your body is going to get more ticklish the more we get your thighs.”
Katie shuddered as she watched Zoe fascinating about her own legs. “So since she wasn’t ready for this, it must not have taken long, right?’
Even Gina couldn’t help playing with her prey at this point. “Oh, honey, we’re not trying to get anything done fast. But yes, you’re right, she had been so busy with her work that her sex life had pretty much gone to the wayside--she told us all this when she got good and ticklish--and that just made every moment and every hour more delicious.”
Katie whispered, almost to herself, “Every hour?”
Casi was waiting for it. “Every hour, sugar. You probably can’t imagine what it would feel like if we got ahold of those feet of yours for five minutes, could you?” A husky laugh filled Katie’s ear, and she could feel herself sweating again.
Zoe kept the story rolling: “Of course, nobody can be tickled for that long at once--people get tired. So we let them rest. Of course, the rest is part of the torture--you know that more is coming, and there’s nowhere you can go, and you have to watch us as we watch the clock. And while you’re waiting, we give you previews of what’s coming next.”
Gina leaned forward again to lock eyes with Katie. “But we shouldn’t skip that first tickling, should we? We put her back on the mattress and her head on the pillow, and Zoe and I put her ankles in the stocks. Gina was our first jolt-watcher. Then we put her hands on cuffs that were attached to the mattress. She couldn’t move, and she couldn’t see--and we waited.”
Casi wanted a turn. “Then we started to take her shoes off. She still had those nylon hose on, so I imagine the basement air felt real cool when the first foot hit the air. But it wasn’t time yet, so we let her sweat a little more. Most ladies would have been bargaining or threatening, but she just waited all quiet-like. But silence gets anyone talking, and in a few minutes she started making offers for us to let her go.”
Zoe jumped in. “The begging is always the best part--she didn’t know what was going on, so she thought she could offer us money or connection to her Congressmen or something. But we just laughed at her every time her offer got bigger. She never did threaten, though. Must not have been the threatening type. But Casi got to ask the question since she was the first jolt-watcher.”
Katie went right into the trap. “What question?”
She could feel Casi’s tongue almost in her ear as she whispered, “Are you ticklish?”
Katie tried to scoot away from Casi and almost fell out of the booth again, and the three girls laughed at her. Casi kept the story rolling. “Nobody’s ever really ready for that, but this one had been working an office and phone calls and fancy dinners for too long--when Zoe started in on her heel, she started screaming like she was on fire, and she started squirming like a crazy woman when Gina started tickling down the middle of her sole. I had to watch carefully to see what was really tickling her the worst--she was so scared that everything looked like a jolt!”
Gina couldn’t help but join in on the memory: “Sometimes we have to work on the thigh to get the feet good and ready, but not with Traci Carter. This woman was a live wire from the first touch. She still had her nylon hose on at first, so I was doing big motions to get the tension of the hose involved. She didn’t look that strong, but you could hear her wrist-cuffs pulling against the mounts, and every time I moved my finger her hips went crazy. I’d go from the ball of her foot to the heel, and her hips would twist to one side. Then I’d zig-zag back up the middle of her foot, and her ass would bounce up and down on that mattress like crazy.”
Zoe was laughing as she told the story now. “And that screaming--it must have taken three whole minutes to get her laughing steady. Every time we gave her foot a little swipe she would let out a scream like she just spotted her favorite boy-band crush.”
Casi jumped in. “She’s kind of old. Did they have boy bands back then?”
Zoe dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “Yeah, New Kids or something like that. But Casi let us have some fun before she tagged me out. I got to feel her foot flex and twist and do everything she could think to do to get away from me, but there’s no getting away when you’re in the vertical stocks. Her toes were all over the place, but I wanted to enjoy that heel, and I did--that little curve where the heel turns into the sole was absolute gold. I worked that and worked it and worked it, and she squirmed and twisted and bounced as much as I wanted her to.”
Gina laughed again as she continued, “When Casi tagged me out, I backed up and watched where she went, and I guess Zoe was on to something, because Casi went right for the heel on that foot. I was scanning from side to side, watching for the next jolt. We had been tickling her for several minutes, so that initial panicked energy was long gone. But Traci is one ticklish lady, so she was still laughing like crazy at everything they were doing. I bided my time so that I could get a good look before I tagged Zoe out. Casi had moved away from the heel and started wandering the foot, so I watched where the next big hit was coming. Carter had her hose on still, so between the toes wasn’t going to come into play for the moment, but when Casi started scratching at the ball of her foot down by her little toes, she lit up again, so I knew it was time to tag in. I tapped Zoe on the shoulder and waited for her to clear out, and then I found that sweet spot on that foot. The jolt was good, and I had her screaming again in just a few seconds.”
Casi was scratching at the booth’s tabletop as she continued, “And all three of us knew that we could work on those hose for a long time before we had to take them off, so we did. Carter was out of her mind in no time, and we kept her there as long as we could. She was making it very easy for us to chase the jolt, and I think Gina was the spotter again when she realized that our ticklish little lobbyist was about to pass out. So she gave the signal, and all three of us leaned over the top of her to give her a stare-down.”
Zoe: “And this is its own kind of fun, Katie. None of us said anything, and we just watched her catch her breath. As soon as she could keep the giggle out of her voice, she started telling us about her kids and her family and how she would do anything if we’d just let her go. And we just stared. What’s funny, of course, is that she was used to bargaining with some of the most powerful men in the world. That’s why she was our target in the first place. But after just the first tickling, she had no idea how to read what we wanted.”
Katie was trying not to sound panicked. “Wait. The first tickling?”
Gina was grinning from ear to ear. “She had no idea what we actually wanted, so that was scaring her almost as much as the feeling that she was about to get tickled again. So we started showing her the tools. Classic psychological technique.”
Katie could feel her heart pounding. She swallowed and tried to keep them talking. “So since you weren’t on the inside, what kinds of tools?”
Casi was ready to explain: “You always go for the flashiest first, so Gina showed her one of those expensive electric toothbrushes. You could watch Carter’s toes curl up every time Gina pressed the power button. Then I held up one of those hairbrushes with the plastic bulbs on the ends of the bristles. Same kind that we used on Mama Sam, but I didn’t have any plans to go to the brush just yet. I just ran my fingers down and let her watch them bend, then come back to standing.”
Zoe jumped back in: “And I showed her the engraving tool.”
Katie’s eyebrow went up. “Engraving tool? What’s that?”
Zoe was all teeth when she answered. “You need to get out of the city, honey! You can pick them up at any crafts and hobbies store. It’s got a vibrating tip for etching your name in plastic crafts. And when that vibrating tip hits a ticklish foot, it lights a woman up like nothing you’ve ever seen before!”
Katie couldn’t help but shudder at the description. “So which one did you use first?”
Gina chuckled at her again. “None of them yet. Didn’t have to. We wanted to let her get her breath back, but we wanted her thinking about the tickling of her life she was about to get every second that she got a break. It worked too--when she saw everything coming her way she was promising us her whole bank account, her car, and anything else she could think of.”
Casi again: “But it wasn’t time for tools yet, Katie. We knew that her feet had plenty of jolt left in them before we even took the hose off, much less started in with tools. So once she had a few minutes to beg and to bargain, we took our positions again. Gina got one foot, and I got another, and Zoe was the spotter, and this time she knew what was coming, but she was too ticklish to do anything about it--I started hunting for the jolt, and Zoe was waiting for a tag-in, and she didn’t last ten seconds before she was squealing and giggling again.”
Zoe was beaming at Katie’s increasing and visible discomfort. “And the best part, Katie, is that she had no idea why. She was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, and she knew that nothing she could think of to offer was going to do anything about it. You know what that does to your mind, Katie?”
Katie glared at Zoe, the one she was beginning to like least of the three.
Gina picked up: “It makes you start to doubt what’s real and what’s not. Were these three hot chicks really making her squirm this way? Was she really starting to get turned on by it all? Was she going to live through this? What’s even real when all I can feel is the bottoms of my feet?”
Casi caught the wave that Zoe had started and picked up on it. “And all she could feel were her feet, sugar. I guarantee you that. We tagged in and out two or three more times before she looked like she was going to pass out again, and that’s when we decided to peel those hose away.”
Katie, who herself was finding it harder to take this story, waved Casi off. “That’s enough. I want to know how you got caught after this.”
Zoe slammed a palm down on the table. “No, Katie, you have to know just what Carter lived through. Next we tore her hose down the middle and peeled them back off her feet, all the way to the ankle-cuffs on the stocks. She was trying her hardest to kick away from us, but her ankles could only move so far, and she could feel the basement air on those toes of hers.”
Gina picked up from there. “This time we didn’t wait--she had gotten used to having several seconds to prepare herself, but this time we jumped right in. Fingers on hose is one thing, but fingertips on skin is something else. We knew she was tired, but once we started tickling without the hose there, she was bucking up and down again.”
Casi laughed as she remembered. “It’s a different kind of ticklish you get when it’s skin on skin, baby! And she was begging and squealing and laughing like a crazy woman, and we tickled her bare feet for at least three tag-ins. This time we could get between those toes--no silk holding our fingertips back! That’s where I went in a hurry--I wanted to see if we could find any jolt there.”
Zoe had definitely taken control of the story now. “You wouldn’t believe the jolt we got, Katie. Casi’s fingers got between those toes, and you wouldn’t have thought that she was tired at all--she thrashed like nobody had ever tickled her before. So I let her have her fill on that foot, but I tagged Gina out in a hurry so that I could get some of that jolt before it ran out. It was a beautiful thing, Katie. I could just feel Casi getting hot on her--Casi just loves it when one of our marks hits the ceiling when we switch gears.”
Gina was going to have some fun with this as well. “That’s why I didn’t tag Casi out for a while--there’s something in the air when Casi gets randy and really starts tickling like she means it. I just watched Carter squirming and listened to her squealing and laughing, and I kept watching for the jolt for a while before I realized that she was going to pass out on us if we didn’t slow it down. So I gave both of them the signal to back off, and we let her breathe for a while.”
Casi’s voice in Katie’s ear was nothing short of menacing when she jumped back in. “And then, Katie, we got out the oil. Baby oil with peppermint oil mixed in. Do you know what baby oil does to the feet, Katie?” Katie could only shake her head as she felt all three girls’ eyes sizing her up. Casi answered her own question: “SO much better than olive oil. It makes your skin really slick so that our fingers move twice as fast but can press in just as firm. Carter might have thought we had her ticklish before, but she had no idea what was coming. Now here’s your next question, Katie. Do you know why we mix in peppermint oil?”
Katie was horrified as she waited for the answer that her pounding heart somehow already knew.
Zoe brought it home: “Because it tastes better!” The three girls laughed together. The trio, each hardly half Katie’s age, were suddenly witches, and Katie was sweating as their cauldron continued to boil. Zoe pressed the moment: “We didn’t start there, though. Gina came in so that Casi could spot for us and get worked up again, and we started working her soles again. That oil made our fingernails lightning bolts and our fingertips cannonballs. She didn’t stand a chance. She was sweating hard by this point, but we were tickling those feet of hers like she’d never been tickled before, and she couldn’t pull them away from us, and her hands couldn’t cover them up. She wasn’t even trying to bargain with us at this point--she was just begging in between her squeals and her laughing. ‘No! No! No!’ Of course Casi is a pro Andromeda girl, so she was watching for the jolt, but Gina and I could just feel her getting hot behind us.”
Gina followed up: “You asked earlier if it was some kind of sex thing, and of course it is, Katie, but every one of us gets hot differently, you know? Casi over there lets you know that she’s getting off while she’s making you squeal, but Zoe here is just one big Cheshire-Cat grin the whole time. And once Casi tagged me out to watch for the jolt, Carter could only look up and see the devil grinning at her as Casi started in the way that she was just dying to start in.”
Katie heard herself whisper, “No!” before she could catch herself, and Zoe’s grin intensified. She could almost hear Casi’s arousal in her voice as she leaned in and whispered in her ear.
“Have you ever had a woman lick your toes, sugar? I can guarantee you Traci Carter never had before that night!” Even Gina was grinning now as Casi continued. “I started with the second one, the one that you can’t move to get out the way. Most people can bend their big toes, but the second one isn’t nearly as fast. I wrapped my tongue around, and I could taste that good peppermint, and I could hear her screaming. I’ve heard a lot of women scream when I do that, sugar. Powerful women. Business execs and research professors and all kinds. Nothing terrifies a woman who thinks she knows herself like getting hot when you don’t want to get hot. But my tongue has that superpower, sugar. If you let me at those feet of yours for a minute, I could show you just what I mean!”
Katie choked down her horror, looked Gina square in the eyes as Casi breathed arousal in her ear and Zoe’s grin seemed to grow fangs. “How did you get caught?”
Gina just returned her stare and joined Zoe’s sadist grin as Casi kept telling her story. “And when she started to get hot, I didn’t stop. I worked my way down to toe number three, then toe number four, then her cute, tiny pinky toe. I licked that ticklish skin between. I licked her where the toes bend. And I polished every tip of every toe just how she liked it most, even though in her deepest secret fears she didn’t want to like it as much as she did. And all the while Zoe worked her over until Gina tagged her out and started in herself, so her other foot was being tortured this whole time. Gina likes to psychoanalyze us, but she gets off on this too--for her it’s watching women for their weaknesses, turning the girls who run the world into puddles who would give us anything to stop. And then she works them until they’d give anything to finish what we started. That’s where we had Traci Carter, but we didn’t stop on her this time. Gina and Zoe were watching for signs that she might pass out, but we had her this time--her body wanted to climax at this point, so she wasn’t going to lose consciousness.”
Zoe snatched the story away from Casi. “You really should watch Gina work some time. I was spotting, so I got to watch her that night. Once she knows where the jolt is, she will absolutely break your mind. Of course, Casi was doing her horror show on Carter’s toes, but I had been finding a good jolt on her heel, so Gina tagged me out and started in on it. No wasted movement when Gina goes to work. And in that moment, when she could go as intense as she wanted without Carter’s losing consciousness, she was an artist in her favorite medium. She would go lightning-fast across most the heel with her fingernails, then rub the edge of the heel and the sole with her fingertips, then zig-zag back up the heel with three fingernails, then trace the edges of the heel with one fingernail and her thumbnail. And every move she made got Carter squealing, even as Casi was making her moan. It was hot as hell, to be honest. Gina has a talent for letting a woman know that she has no secrets any more, that everything she’s trying to hide about what turns her on and what she wants most is already out on the table for everyone to see. And that’s where Traci Carter was as Casi licked her and Gina tickled. We could have made her any religion, any political party, any sexual orientation or anything else we wanted--she had no resistance left in her, just a never-ending giggle and a terrified moan and lots and lots of squirming and laughing.”
Gina was watching Katie sweat, but she had no intention to give her what she wanted. “Eventually I stopped spotting and just slid in between Casi and Zoe. They were going to town on those wonderful, ticklish feet, and I just started running my fingers from the backs of her knees down to her ass, and I could feel those muscles underneath her skin straining to get away, to crawl into a corner so that she could use her hands on herself. She wanted what every woman wants when we’ve got her in our hands. But there was nothing for her, Katie. They kept licking and tickling her feet, and I started in with my fingernails on her inner thighs, and nothing was inside of her, but I guarantee she had never made any sounds for her husband like she was making for us. If the devil showed up in that moment, she would have sold her soul. She would have given up her country, her family, anything--and there was nothing in this world or the next she could give us. It was just torture and more torture, with no way out and no release of that electricity between her legs.”
“We worked on Traci Carter for a couple hours that way, and by the time we were done she really needed the change of clothes we had ready for her. Our mission wasn’t to get intelligence but to send a message, so we let her know that, if she were even in the Eastern Time Zone by the end of the month, Andromeda would find her again and bring her back and work on her for three nights instead of one. And it wouldn’t be junior agents next time--it would be elite ticklers. And they’d grab her assistant from the office as well and let her know that everything that happened to her wold be Traci Carter’s fault. She nodded at us as we talked--that was all she had left in her--and we left the room so that she could change out of her ruined clothes and into the sweat pants and sweat shirt we brought for her.”
Casi took the cue and started to cool the story down as well. “We bagged her head up again when we left so that she couldn’t see where the safehouse was. We drove her around in the van for about an hour before we went to the local hospital to drop her off. She wasn’t in any medical danger, of course--we just wanted to make sure she had plenty of people insisting that she give all the details of the night. That way she would remember as well as possible. That, and we wanted to make sure the van’s plates ended up in security camera footage.”
Zoe took her turn in the cool-down. “Of course, on a normal operation we’d have ditched the van long before we brought the mark back out into the world, but this time we kept the vehicle and stayed in motels close to Interstates, where lots of police would have chances to see it. And it only took them a few days to find us.”
Gina took the story up again. “And once we had been arrested and our trial date was set, our Andromeda sisters got word to us that our next assignment was inside, that Mama Sam was our two-for-one target. So once the judge put us in, we already had a plan in place to sail on out of there. And you know that story.”
Casi could hardly keep her hands off of Katie. “We got Mama Sam’s intel, and we flew that coop, and now here we are, waiting for our next job and our new names.”
“Wait. New names?”
Casi laughed. “Oh yes, sugar. Next time you see us, we won’t be Casi and Zoe and Gina. We’ll have new names and new stories and new papers. That’s what’s so great about Andromeda--our bank accounts are linked to numbers, not names, so when each of us decides to get out, we can go to whatever country we want and live out our lives and find girls to tickle legally and live whatever kind of lives we want. Andromeda girls are goddesses, sugar!”
Katie’s breath caught for a moment. “What do you mean next time?”
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KI
Andromeda part 1 (fff/f, non-con)
by
Kid Indy
Nothing sounds quite like Dupont Circle late on a Friday night. Out of a dozen clubs the booming bass of dance floors filled the cool air, and beats from around the world got bodies dancing inside. On the sidewalks, even though they shouldn’t have worked together, somehow they did. For blocks in every direction clusters of people, so many worth a second look, wandered from bar to club to coffee shop having the good times that news TV never seems to find in their silent footage of Washington’s grand marble columns and white men in suits. Young and old alike enjoyed the cool autumn air and the hot music pounding out from doors and windows, and money from all around the world changed hands quickly, without reserve. Everywhere the eye turned a beautiful face and a beautiful body awaited, long lets and lean bodies and smiles that had spent the day making the imperial city run were now free to find what they wanted, even for an evening.
Among the creatures of the night one pair of shoes moved with particular purpose. Katie’s assignment from Interest magazine was a strange one: usually her beat was women in their thirties who were emerging as power players among the staffers and lobbyists and players on the DC scene. This time she was investigating the sudden retirement of Traci Carter, a top lobbyist for one of the health-insurance giants, who had disappeared from K Street without warning at age 46 only to resurface weeks later in Kansas, having started a new life as a small-town banker, unwilling to give reporters anything beyond the standard “spend more time with my family” about why she suddenly left the Washington scene where she had become one of the true power players in the most powerful city on the planet. With her departure, the companies that relied on her connections and persuasion and history in the city had taken a hit that measured in the billions of dollars and years of lost influence, and Carter’s name overnight became useless, a reminder of how fast fortunes turn in DC.
Katie looked down at her own outfit and rolled her eyes at the look. She kept herself fit at 42, but she was not accustomed to being out on the cougar-scene on a weekend; since her divorce--no kids, fortunately--she had devoted herself to her work, taking what evenings she could to stay in her apartment reading, occasionally catching up when friends from her Georgetown days dropped in for a visit, but mainly keeping to herself and her work. She definitely caught the stray Washington intern-bro taking her in here and there, and it was good to know that her long legs and still-striking eyes still had something to offer to the young and the horny of DC. But she wasn’t out tonight to teach Harvard boys the ways of the world; when she got to Midnight Paradise, she was there to break open the elusive story. Something had happened to Traci Carter just before that budget bill was about to go to committee, and Katie alone had the exclusive angle on the mysterious criminals who seemed to have created this unimaginable glitch in the system that was Washington lobbying.
She spotted the sign marking the entrance, and she remembered the long hours scanning public records in northern Virginia. Either Carter or someone involved with Carter had spared no labor and--Katie guessed--no expense making sure the court records revealed as little detail as possible. The District Attorney had charged three women of unlawful confinement and assault, but the court reporter’s documents mentioned nothing about the events of the week in question except for the dates and times. Nothing in the public record revealed what had happened to Traci Carter between the time that she disappeared on a Thursday evening and reappeared Sunday afternoon. Her subsequent work with state police to track down her abductors had some details on the chase but nothing of the Friday and Saturday when she was missing or what had ultimately driven her from Washington.
But then Katie’s luck turned: when an investigator she hired was calling in Virginia Department of Corrections contacts for names involved in the case, he discovered that the three abductors--they weren’t legally kidnappers because they had never made any demands for Carter’s release--had only spent two months in prison after being convicted and were back on the streets. A solid month of her own search had tracked them back to Washington, and now she had her meet-up with them.
She walked into the club, her eyes scanning the room.
Dance floor, negative.
Bar stools, negative.
Back booth. There they were. Two looked either Latina or Polynesian--hard to tell at a distance--one with black hair, another dyed bright pink. A third, a white girl, wore her blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. Katie’s own white legs made their way towards the booth, where the three girls looked up at her with some mixture of sneer and leer.
“What do you want?” The white one’s thick New Jersey accent was unmistakable.
“Katie Jones. I’m here to talk to you.” She showed them her phone for good measure.
The two other girls looked at each other with a grin. Pink hair spoke first. “Kick your shoes off and join us, Katie!”
“I think I’ll keep them on for now.”
The black-haired girl chimed in. “Pity.”
Katie slid into the booth across from the blonde and the pink-haired girl, next to the one with dark hair. “So first things first: can I use your names in my story?”
She felt the girl next to her before she heard her whisper, “Call me Casi.”
Next pink-hair spoke up. “I’m Zoe.”
Katie thumbed some quick notes into her phone as the white girl said, “And I’m Gina.”
Katie made a mental note: they weren’t using aliases; these were the names from the court records. “Can I record our conversation tonight for my notes?” Once again the girls nodded, and once again they glanced back and forth at each other with knowing, smirking grins. Katie already didn’t like these girls. “We’re going to get to the case of Traci Carter, but first I need to know: how did you manage to leave the state prison so early? What happened to your unlawful confinement charges?
Gina licked her lips and answered, “We were little problems, and we helped the warden with a big problem. So she cut a deal.”
“Big problem?”
Now Casi chimed in. “Mama Sam.”
“Go on.”
Zoe took over the thread. “Mama Sam was running the smack into the prison, and the warden couldn’t touch her. Big drug-gang lawyers protecting her, so they couldn’t lean on her any.”
Katie’s eyebrow raised. “So how did three… how old are you?”
Casi: “Twenty-two, sugar.”
Zoe: “Twenty-four.”
Gina. “Twenty-one.”
“How did three girls in their twenties take down a gangster and her lawyer?”
Zoe leaned in towards Katie. “We haven’t gotten a chance to work on the lawyer yet, just Mama Sam, but some day!” The other two laughed.
Katie was starting to get nervous. “What do you mean, work on her?”
Zoe kept talking. “Mama Sam was the real deal and had muscle inside, so nobody without connections could get to her there. And the state police knew that if Mama Sam got hurt the lawyers would sue the prison, but they knew about us from the stories about Traci Carter. So they made up a reason to put Mama Sam in solitary, then early in the morning, the guards cuffed her and left, and we went to work on her.”
“You keep saying work. What do you mean?”
Casi began to talk. “Have you ever been tied up, Katie Jones?”
Katie scooted away from her on the bench. “So what are you talking about? Stress positions? Waterboarding?”
Casi laughed. “No, sugar. Nothing like that. But when you can’t get away, any little touch does something crazy to your skin.” Katie tried to scoot away again but was running out of bench. Casi kept talking: “And even someone as tough as Mama Sam can’t hold up long when three Andromeda girls can have our way with her feet.”
Katie heard herself gasp and scowled at her own reaction. Gina giggled and joined in. “Do you know what we’re talking about now?”
“Were you hitting her with a belt or something?”
Gina and Zoe exchanged a knowing glance. Casi scooted thigh-to-thigh with Katie and leaned in again, whispering, “Go ahead and say it, sugar!”
Katie’s heart pounded as she stood and faced the three women. “Alright, enough games! Why did the warden let you out of prison so early?”
Casi scooted towards the wall again and patted the wood next to her. “Sit down with us, and we’ll tell you.”
Katie scanned the place with her eyes. They weren’t likely to attempt anything violent; the place was full, and there were dozens of people between them and the nearest exit. She collected her wits, checked to make sure her recorder was still running, and sat slowly again. “Now give me some facts I can use. How did you get your sentences reduced?”
This time Gina took the lead. “Mama Sam told us when the next delivery was coming, and the State Police were waiting.”
Katie leaned over the table. “You just said that nobody could hurt Mama Sam. Why did Mama Sam give you that information?”
Casi gave the other two a hand signal to give her the floor. “The warden had heard of us when we showed up, and she had tried everything legal to bust up Mama Sam’s ring. So we cut a deal with her: we’d get Mama Sam to give up the time and place to catch the next shipment so that they could lean on some low-level mules and get higher up the food chain. We wouldn’t leave a mark on her body for the lawyers to use as fodder for a civil suit. And Mama Sam would get a transfer and a witness-protection identity once everything was over.”
“So one night, after lights out, they sent three guards to Mama Sam’s cell and took her out to solitary. That’s all they said, and they said it loud. For all anyone knew, they were just going to let her stew for a few days in hopes that she would give something up. I’m sure the lawyers were on the phone within hours, but there was no way for them to know. In the meantime, they had moved a barber’s chair from the prison’s hair cutter into the solitary room, and we had made some modifications to it. We were hiding in the dark, so we could see her, but she couldn’t see us. They sat her in the barber’s chair, and they used the leather belts we had asked for to tie her forearms and calves to the chair. We waited there while Mama Sam yelled and threatened for a while. Once she got quiet, we came out of the shadows.”
Casi didn’t lean in this time but just kept the story going: “You should have seen the look on her face when she realized the guards had left her to us. She was acting all tough, but you could tell she was waiting for the blades to come out or at least to take a beating. But that’s not what they brought us in for, was it?”
Gina grinned at her conspirator. “And she had no idea what was coming when Zoe and I started to take off her shoes. And then her socks. Those feet were something, though. Mama Sam’s a Latina, so they were those great feet with mocha on top and cream on the bottom.”
Casi again: “I did take out a lighter and lit it up to scare her. We were never going to burn those great feet, but the fear added to what was coming.”
Zoe jumped in. “She started to scream at us that if they found any bruises or cuts on her, the cartel’s people were coming hard to take all of us out. But we weren’t there to leave any bruises or cuts, were we?”
Gina answered, “No, but she wasn’t ever going to forget, even if there were no signs in the morning!”
Katie shook her head, confused. “Is this some kind of foot fetish thing?”
Zoe laughed. “Not for Mama Sam it wasn’t--she thought we were going to burn her, and she still didn’t know what we were after!” The other two girls laughed, then all got quiet, waiting for Katie to ask the question that was filling the air.
“What did you do with her feet?”
Gina put her hands on the table and locked eyes with Katie. “We always start slow so that our mark knows what’s coming. The anticipation makes it so much tastier once we start in for real.” Katie’s mouth was now opened as she awaited--and somehow already knew--what came next. “Casi there got to start in on her. One fingertip on her left sole, slow circles starting in the middle and working their way out. The tough ones like Mama Sam always threaten first--called us all kinds of nasty things in her Puerto Rican Spanglish. But Casi just kept circling, and circling, and then I pulled the toes on her right foot back so that the skin was stretched tight, and when she felt my fingers start down that sole, she stopped threatening and gritted her teeth. That’s how you know you’re about to win--when they stop talking and start trying not to make any sound.”
“You mean you were…”
Zoe licked her lips. “Say it.”
“When she was tied up you…”
Zoe was a cat playing with her prey. “You won’t believe it unless you can say it!”
“You were tickling her feet?”
Casi pinched Katie’s side, and the veteran reporter, wound up with anticipation, jumped and screamed, and she was off the bench again. She put her hand down on the table again. “Stop that! Tell me how you really got out of prison!”
Zoe was still all grin. “Casi, honey, can you just imagine what we could do with pretty Katie’s feet?”
Casi raised an eyebrow and smiled from ear to ear. “I think Katie would go through the roof if we started working on those toes of hers.”
Gina now looked Katie directly in the eyes. “You’re not going to get this story unless you can sit with us. We promise Casi will try to behave, but you were just so tense--she has an instinct for the moments when a tickle is going to blow someone up.”
Katie hadn’t done all of the work tracking these girls down to run away at a little lesbian flirtation. She sat down. “After you tickled her feet what did you do to get the information?”
Zoe wanted to be the storyteller now. “Oh, there wasn’t any ‘after you tickled her feet’ anywhere in her near future. I let Casi and Gina work on her for a while so I could watch. I didn’t want to tag in just yet.”
“Tag in?”
Casi explained: “A woman only has two feet. There are three of us. That’s what makes an Andromeda team so deadly. While two of us tickle, the third watches so that she can see what kinds of attacks make her crazy fastest and what spots are the most ticklish. Gina here likes to tag in as soon as she sees a really ticklish spot. Zoe wants to get a bigger picture. But whenever Andromeda works you over, there are three of us on the scene, and you’re going to get more and more ticklish every minute because while two of us tickle, one of us is always watching to see what tickles you the most.”
Katie tried to hide a shudder. “So how long before she answered your questions?”
Gina laughed at the question. “Isn’t she cute, Casi? She wants to get out of this part of the story as fast as she can. I’ll bet her toes are curling up inside of her shoes thinking about what the three of us did to Mama Sam!”
Katie’s pulse was pounding; there was no doubt that the story was making her very nervous about her own feet, but she wasn’t going to show these girls. “How long?”
Gina licked her teeth before she answered, “We didn’t ask any questions yet. She wasn’t laughing hard enough. We never let a woman know what we want until she knows beyond a doubt the only thing she wants.” Katie held her breath, trying not to let her rising panic show. Gina continued. “She was laughing pretty hard when Zoe tagged me out, and I watched to see that, when Casi was working her soles, she was getting Mama Sam to squirm like crazy when she got around the heels. I’m sure Zoe was going to town on the other foot, but we only watch the foot we’re going to tag in on. So I let Casi go at her for a little while longer, and while she was finishing up, I got the olive oil out that the prison guards had gotten for us.”
“Olive oil?”
Zoe chimed in. “Makes the soles friction-free. If you can move your fingertips fast and dig in, most women can’t stand that tickling at all!”
Casi added, “And if you can get that oil warmed up and those fingertips moving fast, your soles might as well be your clit, sugar--we’re talking about a tickling that’s going to get you hot like no man’s ever going to get you hot!” Katie could feel herself recoil, and all three girls laughed at her.
Gina picked the story back up. “When I tagged Casi out, I didn’t start tickling right away: I drizzled some of that olive oil on her sole and rubbed it in, especially on her heel. Then I started tickling just around the heel, and she started begging, promising us sex, money, drugs, whatever we wanted.”
“And then she told you and you stopped right?”
Casi giggled. “Can’t we give her just a little demonstration?”
Zoe wagged her finger at Casi. “Casi, don’t spook her again. This is just where the story gets good! No, Katie, we didn’t stop then, and we didn’t even ask any questions yet. Once she started begging, Casi tagged back in, and we oiled up both of her feet. We tagged in four or five times, every new tickler going to the spots that were lighting her up, always following the jolt.”
“What’s the jolt?”
Gina jumped in, and Katie realized that they were tag-teaming her in this conversation. “If you just tickle in one spot, she’s going to get used to it. Even with the oil that happens. But if you just tickle at random, you might go to a place where she’s more ticklish, but you might go to a place that isn’t responding at all. An Andromeda team is always going to follow the jolt--tickle in spots that make her jump and squirm until she can’t jump and squirm any more, then start wandering until the jolt makes her jump and squirm again.”
Katie felt a sudden surge in her own breathing, and she realized that none of the three girls had touched her. She squeezed her thighs together and continued to listen. “How long does a jolt last?”
Casi leered at Katie. “Longer than any woman wants it to--that’s what makes what we do so fun--for us, at least. Most women are only ticklish in one spot for a few delicious moments, but if you follow the jolt, you can keep a lady laughing for much, much longer.”
And now Zoe again: “And that’s before we get to the tools. Out in the world we’re talking vibrators and engraving tools and all kinds of battery-operated fun. In prison we made do with a hairbrush.”
Katie’s dread knew the answer before she posed the question: “What do you do with the hairbrush?”
Gina: “A fingertip on oiled skin is very personal, very intimate. Some women won’t admit it, but it’s a turn-on, no matter what kinds of people turn you on in other moments. But a hairbrush, the kind with the little plastic nubs on the bristles, against oil? No sex getting in the way there--it’s just ticklish feet meat turned up to eleven. It’s like a mean little army of hands tickling your foot all at once.”
Casi: “It’s torture, baby!”
Zoe: “And that’s when we started leading Mama Sam where she was so desperate to take us. Casi was taking a hairbrush to one sole, and Gina was making circles on the other foot with another hairbrush. Mama Sam was broken--she could barely breathe she was laughing so hard. So we started asking questions.”
“Where the drop was going to happen?”
Gina started in again. “No, that might have brought her back into the moment. She might have lied. No, while we were making her scream and giggle with those hairbrushes, Zoe started asking her about getting in on the business. Told her we had bribed the guards with sex because we knew Mama Sam was the head of the big money. Things like that. And after Zoe built up that story, she tagged in so that she could work on her foot with that hairbrush, and I started talking.”
Casi took over the story. “So Zoe is the meanest of the three of us with a hairbrush, so Mama Sam would have done anything to get her to stop. That’s when she started volunteering to us when and where the next drop was happening, told us to be there so that she could cut us in. Told us we would really be inside if we would just stop.”
“So you stopped, right?”
Zoe flashed a toothy grin at Katie. “Not yet, Katie dear. She might have been lying, and we needed to know. So we put away the hairbrushes, and we went back to slow, sensuous finger-tickling. Mama Sam could breathe again, but her feet were all nerves at this point, so we stopped looking for screaming spots and started looking for moaning spots. She was a lonely woman--it didn’t take long.”
Casi was right up in Katie’s ear again: “You see, men might think that your pussy and your titties are the only places that can send you to the moon, but the jolt can get you off just as hard, and we were following that jolt wherever it went! That warm oil on her soles was making Gina’s fingers into weapons, and she found a place right in the middle of her sole that brought Mama Sam’s hips back to life!”
Zoe was all grin now. “I was watching for the jolt when Gina found that mark. Mama Sam started twisting and humping the air and doing anything she could to work her own pants into herself. But there was no time for that: I tagged Gina out and went right to that spot, and she was done for. Moan, scream, rattle: those are the sounds that let you know you’ve won, and even if you’re the toughest drug-dealing Latina warlord in the joint, a ticklish orgasm is going to make your feet twice as ticklish as they were before, and at this point she’s just begging to tell us everything about her operation so that she can get her hands back!”
Casi giggled in Katie’s ear. “But we weren’t going to let her! Gina tagged me out, and she got that brush again, and for the next ten minutes, Mama Sam would have done anything for us--money, sex, drugs, hand over her own mother, anything, just to get us to stop and let her slink off and finish herself off right.”
Zoe: “But that’s not how Andromeda works. You’ve got to make sure she’s too scared to lie to you, and you’ve got to be sure that she tells everyone she knows never to mess with Andromeda!”
Gina got Katie’s attention and went back to summarizing: “We made her repeat the details to us four or five more times. The details never changed, so we stopped for the night. That’s when we called the guards back in, and Gina told her what was really going down.”
Casi took over the narrative again: “Now she was really begging us, offering us the world and more if we didn’t take it to the State Police. But we kept our eyes on the prize, and we set Mama Sam up for one last undercover drop. We let her know, and never let her forget, that all three of us had heard her say where and when the next drop was coming, several times, and she was going to be in solitary until that drop happened. The Staties were waiting when Mama Sam showed up when the truck with the drugs pulled up, and they picked up the mid-level guys who were supplying the prison’s drug habits.”
Gina finished the epilogue: “And now Mama Sam is in witness protection, out of that prison, and we got let out a few weeks later on parole.”
“How old was Mama Sam?”
Zoe smiled. “Was? You think she got killed for it?”
“Okay, how old is she?”
“Forty-five. Somewhere in there.”
Katie felt herself shudder, and immediately she sensed all three of the girls sizing her up. She deflected quickly. “And that’s about how hold Traci Carter is too, right?”
Casi leaned in, a move that still hadn’t stopped making Katie nervous. “She’s about that old, yeah. White woman. Doesn’t have that Latina fire, but she was as ticklish as any of us ever hoped. White women usually don’t know just how fun things get when you can’t kick away or cover up.”
Gina scratched her fingernails across the table. “That’s right, Casi. A pair of nice pink feet can last us for hours!”
Katie heard her voice rise in pitch as she tried to follow up. “Why did you target her? Why an insurance lobbyist?”
Zoe held up a hand and rubbed the tip of her thumb against her bent finger. “We don’t ask. Our bosses get paid, and we get paid, and that’s where we do what we do.”
Katie let out a small gasp. Casi laughed. “Why do you think they told us to get caught?”
“What do you mean they told you to get caught? Who are ‘they’?”
Gina motioned with a flat hand in front of her neck for Casi not to say anything else. “Doesn’t matter. What you need to know is that Andromeda is going to be even more powerful now that word is getting out what we did to Mama Sam.”
Katie’s mind was racing, and she wished she had brought a notebook. “Who paid you to target Traci Carter?”
Zoe licked her lips and leaned in. “Someone who wanted her out of the game. If you want any more, you’re going to have to take those shoes off, sugar!”
Casi put a hand on Katie’s shoulder. “And put those pink tootsies in my lap for a while!”
Suddenly Gina was all business. “Both of you stop. Nobody is revealing any clients tonight.” She turned to Katie. “When we do what we do, nobody leaves a mark, but we can leave a target out of her mind. Everyone who hires us knows this, and that’s why we get hired. Now do you want to hear about Traci Carter or not?” Katie nodded. “Somebody--and you don’t get to ask who--wanted to take her out of the food chain last year when Congress was putting together their latest budget. She had connections with a pair of big names in Ways and Means, and her presence at their committee hearings might have tipped the scales.”
Casi couldn’t help herself. “And if she suddenly split town to hide out in corn country, it might tip those scales the other way!”
Gina acknowledged Casi, then continued. “So they sent us to take care of things and get caught. Now the nice thing about the Carter job is that she’s never on TV cameras, and nobody ever voted for her, so she didn’t have any kind of security. So it was just a matter of getting eyes on her and watching for the moments when we could make our move.”
Zoe, getting bored with this part of the story, interjected, “That wasn’t the only nice thing about Carter. She wasn’t built like a runway model--she’d had a couple of kids--but those feet of hers were two big live wires!”
Casi wanted in on the fun: “Come on, Katie, let us try yours out, just for a test drive!”
Katie knew she had to get Gina talking again, for the sake of the story and to get her out of this uncomfortable moment. She locked eyes with Gina to get the other two off of her mind. “So her morning commute? Something like that?”
Gina was happy to comply. “Bingo. She had moved her husband and her kids to the Maryland suburbs, so those forty minutes every day were when she was most exposed.”
Zoe was ready to talk shop again: “So sent Gina in--she’s white, so she doesn’t raise as much suspicion--to take a jog in Carter’s neighborhood. She planted a radio-controlled device in her wheel well, and the trap was set. We waited until she hit the beltway, and we hit the button, and a nail went right into the rubber. Her front tire went flat in about a mile of driving.”
Casi was getting in on the excitement now: “Isn’t this spy stuff fun? So we waited until she called a tow truck, and that’s when Andromeda’s tow truck showed up.”
Gina corrected Casi. “Andromeda doesn’t own a tow truck, of course, but we had hired a guy to steal one and be in the right place at the right time to get there and acquire the target. Triple-A usually takes about forty-five minutes to respond to a call. Our guy was there in twelve.”
Zoe laughed. “She must have thought it must be her lucky day!”
Casi joined in. “Oh, she got lucky before the day was up!”
Gina, rolling her eyes, continued. “Our guy loaded her car onto the back of the truck and offered her a ride to the nearest rental car place. So that gave him occasion to get off the Interstate and head back towards the suburbs. When triple-A did get there they didn’t see any car, but that’s not unusual (plenty of people run out of patience with triple-A), so we still had plenty of time to get her where we wanted her before anyone even thought about looking into their logs.”
Zoe: “So she was calling her office and calling her family and calling everyone who needed calling to let them know just where she was and just how long she’d be and all of that. Standard stuff. Only gave us a narrow window to get her away from her vehicle and down the road.”
Casi: “So our guy makes an excuse to get away from the main roads--said he needed to gas up, and he knew a place that was cheaper than the chain gas stations. Total lie, but that’s why we hired him, right? When he got out of the truck on his side, we rolled up on the passenger side.”
Gina took back over: “Once she saw the gun, she wasn’t going to make any trouble. We took her phone and turned it off and ditched it, and we zip-tied her while the driver wiped the cab down and took off on foot to meet up with his getaway. We loaded her in the back of our van and put a bag over her head, and Casi drove us out of there. We had a safehouse with a basement out beyond the suburbs. So that’s where we took her, and we took her down into the basement before we unbagged her. But we let her have a look around before we got to work on her.”
“What do you mean? What did you show her?”
Zoe was ready for that question. “Torture racks. Stocks. Beds with restraining cuffs on the posts. All kinds of medieval stuff we keep in there. We wanted her to have a good, long look at what was waiting for her.”
Casi was in Katie’s ear again: “If you can see all the equipment that’s going to hold you in place, that’s the setup. Makes you a lot more sensitive when the torture starts. So we let her look around a long time and start begging us before we ever put her in the vertical stocks.”
“Vertical stocks?”
Casi spoke out of turn, her excitement audible in her voice. “We lay you down on a twin mattress, and your feet go straight up into the air into a wood frame.”
Zoe giggled at Casi’s rising voice. “So if you’re wearing a dress--and she was--it rides right up on you before we ever start working on you, and it rides up even more if your booty gets moving.”
Casi again: “And oh, did we get that white booty wiggling!”
Gina elbowed her way back into the story. “We lowered her down onto the mattress and made sure her head was on a pillow, and then we moved her ankles into the cuffs. They’re padded thick to make sure no injuries cut the session short.”
Katie suddenly realized that all three were speaking of these racks in the present tense. “Wait, is this place still there?”
Casi started to wrap a serpent-like arm around Katie’s waist. “We can take you there if you want, honey. I know just where I’d like to have you and those feet of yours!”
Gina cut her off again. “No, Casi, we’re not taking any reporter to our safehouse!”
“Not even if we bag her up so she can’t see? I want to tickle her feet!”
Katie was in anguish: she had to get that arm off of her body, but she didn’t want to disrupt the interview just as it was getting somewhere.
Gina again: “We’re here to tell her our story and get in the papers, Casi. Remember, we’re pros, not hobbyists.”
Casi pouted, and Katie had to remove the mocha arm from around her body. She looked across the table again as she unceremoniously dropped the arm down beside her. “Why do you put her legs in the air?”
Zoe seemed to know and to love that these questions were coming. “That way we can sit on stools and get to her feet most easily. Besides that, if we can run some fingernails down the leg, from the knee down to the ass, and then inside from the knee up to the pussy, it doesn’t matter how tough you are--every part of your body is going to get more ticklish the more we get your thighs.”
Katie shuddered as she watched Zoe fascinating about her own legs. “So since she wasn’t ready for this, it must not have taken long, right?’
Even Gina couldn’t help playing with her prey at this point. “Oh, honey, we’re not trying to get anything done fast. But yes, you’re right, she had been so busy with her work that her sex life had pretty much gone to the wayside--she told us all this when she got good and ticklish--and that just made every moment and every hour more delicious.”
Katie whispered, almost to herself, “Every hour?”
Casi was waiting for it. “Every hour, sugar. You probably can’t imagine what it would feel like if we got ahold of those feet of yours for five minutes, could you?” A husky laugh filled Katie’s ear, and she could feel herself sweating again.
Zoe kept the story rolling: “Of course, nobody can be tickled for that long at once--people get tired. So we let them rest. Of course, the rest is part of the torture--you know that more is coming, and there’s nowhere you can go, and you have to watch us as we watch the clock. And while you’re waiting, we give you previews of what’s coming next.”
Gina leaned forward again to lock eyes with Katie. “But we shouldn’t skip that first tickling, should we? We put her back on the mattress and her head on the pillow, and Zoe and I put her ankles in the stocks. Gina was our first jolt-watcher. Then we put her hands on cuffs that were attached to the mattress. She couldn’t move, and she couldn’t see--and we waited.”
Casi wanted a turn. “Then we started to take her shoes off. She still had those nylon hose on, so I imagine the basement air felt real cool when the first foot hit the air. But it wasn’t time yet, so we let her sweat a little more. Most ladies would have been bargaining or threatening, but she just waited all quiet-like. But silence gets anyone talking, and in a few minutes she started making offers for us to let her go.”
Zoe jumped in. “The begging is always the best part--she didn’t know what was going on, so she thought she could offer us money or connection to her Congressmen or something. But we just laughed at her every time her offer got bigger. She never did threaten, though. Must not have been the threatening type. But Casi got to ask the question since she was the first jolt-watcher.”
Katie went right into the trap. “What question?”
She could feel Casi’s tongue almost in her ear as she whispered, “Are you ticklish?”
Katie tried to scoot away from Casi and almost fell out of the booth again, and the three girls laughed at her. Casi kept the story rolling. “Nobody’s ever really ready for that, but this one had been working an office and phone calls and fancy dinners for too long--when Zoe started in on her heel, she started screaming like she was on fire, and she started squirming like a crazy woman when Gina started tickling down the middle of her sole. I had to watch carefully to see what was really tickling her the worst--she was so scared that everything looked like a jolt!”
Gina couldn’t help but join in on the memory: “Sometimes we have to work on the thigh to get the feet good and ready, but not with Traci Carter. This woman was a live wire from the first touch. She still had her nylon hose on at first, so I was doing big motions to get the tension of the hose involved. She didn’t look that strong, but you could hear her wrist-cuffs pulling against the mounts, and every time I moved my finger her hips went crazy. I’d go from the ball of her foot to the heel, and her hips would twist to one side. Then I’d zig-zag back up the middle of her foot, and her ass would bounce up and down on that mattress like crazy.”
Zoe was laughing as she told the story now. “And that screaming--it must have taken three whole minutes to get her laughing steady. Every time we gave her foot a little swipe she would let out a scream like she just spotted her favorite boy-band crush.”
Casi jumped in. “She’s kind of old. Did they have boy bands back then?”
Zoe dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “Yeah, New Kids or something like that. But Casi let us have some fun before she tagged me out. I got to feel her foot flex and twist and do everything she could think to do to get away from me, but there’s no getting away when you’re in the vertical stocks. Her toes were all over the place, but I wanted to enjoy that heel, and I did--that little curve where the heel turns into the sole was absolute gold. I worked that and worked it and worked it, and she squirmed and twisted and bounced as much as I wanted her to.”
Gina laughed again as she continued, “When Casi tagged me out, I backed up and watched where she went, and I guess Zoe was on to something, because Casi went right for the heel on that foot. I was scanning from side to side, watching for the next jolt. We had been tickling her for several minutes, so that initial panicked energy was long gone. But Traci is one ticklish lady, so she was still laughing like crazy at everything they were doing. I bided my time so that I could get a good look before I tagged Zoe out. Casi had moved away from the heel and started wandering the foot, so I watched where the next big hit was coming. Carter had her hose on still, so between the toes wasn’t going to come into play for the moment, but when Casi started scratching at the ball of her foot down by her little toes, she lit up again, so I knew it was time to tag in. I tapped Zoe on the shoulder and waited for her to clear out, and then I found that sweet spot on that foot. The jolt was good, and I had her screaming again in just a few seconds.”
Casi was scratching at the booth’s tabletop as she continued, “And all three of us knew that we could work on those hose for a long time before we had to take them off, so we did. Carter was out of her mind in no time, and we kept her there as long as we could. She was making it very easy for us to chase the jolt, and I think Gina was the spotter again when she realized that our ticklish little lobbyist was about to pass out. So she gave the signal, and all three of us leaned over the top of her to give her a stare-down.”
Zoe: “And this is its own kind of fun, Katie. None of us said anything, and we just watched her catch her breath. As soon as she could keep the giggle out of her voice, she started telling us about her kids and her family and how she would do anything if we’d just let her go. And we just stared. What’s funny, of course, is that she was used to bargaining with some of the most powerful men in the world. That’s why she was our target in the first place. But after just the first tickling, she had no idea how to read what we wanted.”
Katie was trying not to sound panicked. “Wait. The first tickling?”
Gina was grinning from ear to ear. “She had no idea what we actually wanted, so that was scaring her almost as much as the feeling that she was about to get tickled again. So we started showing her the tools. Classic psychological technique.”
Katie could feel her heart pounding. She swallowed and tried to keep them talking. “So since you weren’t on the inside, what kinds of tools?”
Casi was ready to explain: “You always go for the flashiest first, so Gina showed her one of those expensive electric toothbrushes. You could watch Carter’s toes curl up every time Gina pressed the power button. Then I held up one of those hairbrushes with the plastic bulbs on the ends of the bristles. Same kind that we used on Mama Sam, but I didn’t have any plans to go to the brush just yet. I just ran my fingers down and let her watch them bend, then come back to standing.”
Zoe jumped back in: “And I showed her the engraving tool.”
Katie’s eyebrow went up. “Engraving tool? What’s that?”
Zoe was all teeth when she answered. “You need to get out of the city, honey! You can pick them up at any crafts and hobbies store. It’s got a vibrating tip for etching your name in plastic crafts. And when that vibrating tip hits a ticklish foot, it lights a woman up like nothing you’ve ever seen before!”
Katie couldn’t help but shudder at the description. “So which one did you use first?”
Gina chuckled at her again. “None of them yet. Didn’t have to. We wanted to let her get her breath back, but we wanted her thinking about the tickling of her life she was about to get every second that she got a break. It worked too--when she saw everything coming her way she was promising us her whole bank account, her car, and anything else she could think of.”
Casi again: “But it wasn’t time for tools yet, Katie. We knew that her feet had plenty of jolt left in them before we even took the hose off, much less started in with tools. So once she had a few minutes to beg and to bargain, we took our positions again. Gina got one foot, and I got another, and Zoe was the spotter, and this time she knew what was coming, but she was too ticklish to do anything about it--I started hunting for the jolt, and Zoe was waiting for a tag-in, and she didn’t last ten seconds before she was squealing and giggling again.”
Zoe was beaming at Katie’s increasing and visible discomfort. “And the best part, Katie, is that she had no idea why. She was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, and she knew that nothing she could think of to offer was going to do anything about it. You know what that does to your mind, Katie?”
Katie glared at Zoe, the one she was beginning to like least of the three.
Gina picked up: “It makes you start to doubt what’s real and what’s not. Were these three hot chicks really making her squirm this way? Was she really starting to get turned on by it all? Was she going to live through this? What’s even real when all I can feel is the bottoms of my feet?”
Casi caught the wave that Zoe had started and picked up on it. “And all she could feel were her feet, sugar. I guarantee you that. We tagged in and out two or three more times before she looked like she was going to pass out again, and that’s when we decided to peel those hose away.”
Katie, who herself was finding it harder to take this story, waved Casi off. “That’s enough. I want to know how you got caught after this.”
Zoe slammed a palm down on the table. “No, Katie, you have to know just what Carter lived through. Next we tore her hose down the middle and peeled them back off her feet, all the way to the ankle-cuffs on the stocks. She was trying her hardest to kick away from us, but her ankles could only move so far, and she could feel the basement air on those toes of hers.”
Gina picked up from there. “This time we didn’t wait--she had gotten used to having several seconds to prepare herself, but this time we jumped right in. Fingers on hose is one thing, but fingertips on skin is something else. We knew she was tired, but once we started tickling without the hose there, she was bucking up and down again.”
Casi laughed as she remembered. “It’s a different kind of ticklish you get when it’s skin on skin, baby! And she was begging and squealing and laughing like a crazy woman, and we tickled her bare feet for at least three tag-ins. This time we could get between those toes--no silk holding our fingertips back! That’s where I went in a hurry--I wanted to see if we could find any jolt there.”
Zoe had definitely taken control of the story now. “You wouldn’t believe the jolt we got, Katie. Casi’s fingers got between those toes, and you wouldn’t have thought that she was tired at all--she thrashed like nobody had ever tickled her before. So I let her have her fill on that foot, but I tagged Gina out in a hurry so that I could get some of that jolt before it ran out. It was a beautiful thing, Katie. I could just feel Casi getting hot on her--Casi just loves it when one of our marks hits the ceiling when we switch gears.”
Gina was going to have some fun with this as well. “That’s why I didn’t tag Casi out for a while--there’s something in the air when Casi gets randy and really starts tickling like she means it. I just watched Carter squirming and listened to her squealing and laughing, and I kept watching for the jolt for a while before I realized that she was going to pass out on us if we didn’t slow it down. So I gave both of them the signal to back off, and we let her breathe for a while.”
Casi’s voice in Katie’s ear was nothing short of menacing when she jumped back in. “And then, Katie, we got out the oil. Baby oil with peppermint oil mixed in. Do you know what baby oil does to the feet, Katie?” Katie could only shake her head as she felt all three girls’ eyes sizing her up. Casi answered her own question: “SO much better than olive oil. It makes your skin really slick so that our fingers move twice as fast but can press in just as firm. Carter might have thought we had her ticklish before, but she had no idea what was coming. Now here’s your next question, Katie. Do you know why we mix in peppermint oil?”
Katie was horrified as she waited for the answer that her pounding heart somehow already knew.
Zoe brought it home: “Because it tastes better!” The three girls laughed together. The trio, each hardly half Katie’s age, were suddenly witches, and Katie was sweating as their cauldron continued to boil. Zoe pressed the moment: “We didn’t start there, though. Gina came in so that Casi could spot for us and get worked up again, and we started working her soles again. That oil made our fingernails lightning bolts and our fingertips cannonballs. She didn’t stand a chance. She was sweating hard by this point, but we were tickling those feet of hers like she’d never been tickled before, and she couldn’t pull them away from us, and her hands couldn’t cover them up. She wasn’t even trying to bargain with us at this point--she was just begging in between her squeals and her laughing. ‘No! No! No!’ Of course Casi is a pro Andromeda girl, so she was watching for the jolt, but Gina and I could just feel her getting hot behind us.”
Gina followed up: “You asked earlier if it was some kind of sex thing, and of course it is, Katie, but every one of us gets hot differently, you know? Casi over there lets you know that she’s getting off while she’s making you squeal, but Zoe here is just one big Cheshire-Cat grin the whole time. And once Casi tagged me out to watch for the jolt, Carter could only look up and see the devil grinning at her as Casi started in the way that she was just dying to start in.”
Katie heard herself whisper, “No!” before she could catch herself, and Zoe’s grin intensified. She could almost hear Casi’s arousal in her voice as she leaned in and whispered in her ear.
“Have you ever had a woman lick your toes, sugar? I can guarantee you Traci Carter never had before that night!” Even Gina was grinning now as Casi continued. “I started with the second one, the one that you can’t move to get out the way. Most people can bend their big toes, but the second one isn’t nearly as fast. I wrapped my tongue around, and I could taste that good peppermint, and I could hear her screaming. I’ve heard a lot of women scream when I do that, sugar. Powerful women. Business execs and research professors and all kinds. Nothing terrifies a woman who thinks she knows herself like getting hot when you don’t want to get hot. But my tongue has that superpower, sugar. If you let me at those feet of yours for a minute, I could show you just what I mean!”
Katie choked down her horror, looked Gina square in the eyes as Casi breathed arousal in her ear and Zoe’s grin seemed to grow fangs. “How did you get caught?”
Gina just returned her stare and joined Zoe’s sadist grin as Casi kept telling her story. “And when she started to get hot, I didn’t stop. I worked my way down to toe number three, then toe number four, then her cute, tiny pinky toe. I licked that ticklish skin between. I licked her where the toes bend. And I polished every tip of every toe just how she liked it most, even though in her deepest secret fears she didn’t want to like it as much as she did. And all the while Zoe worked her over until Gina tagged her out and started in herself, so her other foot was being tortured this whole time. Gina likes to psychoanalyze us, but she gets off on this too--for her it’s watching women for their weaknesses, turning the girls who run the world into puddles who would give us anything to stop. And then she works them until they’d give anything to finish what we started. That’s where we had Traci Carter, but we didn’t stop on her this time. Gina and Zoe were watching for signs that she might pass out, but we had her this time--her body wanted to climax at this point, so she wasn’t going to lose consciousness.”
Zoe snatched the story away from Casi. “You really should watch Gina work some time. I was spotting, so I got to watch her that night. Once she knows where the jolt is, she will absolutely break your mind. Of course, Casi was doing her horror show on Carter’s toes, but I had been finding a good jolt on her heel, so Gina tagged me out and started in on it. No wasted movement when Gina goes to work. And in that moment, when she could go as intense as she wanted without Carter’s losing consciousness, she was an artist in her favorite medium. She would go lightning-fast across most the heel with her fingernails, then rub the edge of the heel and the sole with her fingertips, then zig-zag back up the heel with three fingernails, then trace the edges of the heel with one fingernail and her thumbnail. And every move she made got Carter squealing, even as Casi was making her moan. It was hot as hell, to be honest. Gina has a talent for letting a woman know that she has no secrets any more, that everything she’s trying to hide about what turns her on and what she wants most is already out on the table for everyone to see. And that’s where Traci Carter was as Casi licked her and Gina tickled. We could have made her any religion, any political party, any sexual orientation or anything else we wanted--she had no resistance left in her, just a never-ending giggle and a terrified moan and lots and lots of squirming and laughing.”
Gina was watching Katie sweat, but she had no intention to give her what she wanted. “Eventually I stopped spotting and just slid in between Casi and Zoe. They were going to town on those wonderful, ticklish feet, and I just started running my fingers from the backs of her knees down to her ass, and I could feel those muscles underneath her skin straining to get away, to crawl into a corner so that she could use her hands on herself. She wanted what every woman wants when we’ve got her in our hands. But there was nothing for her, Katie. They kept licking and tickling her feet, and I started in with my fingernails on her inner thighs, and nothing was inside of her, but I guarantee she had never made any sounds for her husband like she was making for us. If the devil showed up in that moment, she would have sold her soul. She would have given up her country, her family, anything--and there was nothing in this world or the next she could give us. It was just torture and more torture, with no way out and no release of that electricity between her legs.”
“We worked on Traci Carter for a couple hours that way, and by the time we were done she really needed the change of clothes we had ready for her. Our mission wasn’t to get intelligence but to send a message, so we let her know that, if she were even in the Eastern Time Zone by the end of the month, Andromeda would find her again and bring her back and work on her for three nights instead of one. And it wouldn’t be junior agents next time--it would be elite ticklers. And they’d grab her assistant from the office as well and let her know that everything that happened to her wold be Traci Carter’s fault. She nodded at us as we talked--that was all she had left in her--and we left the room so that she could change out of her ruined clothes and into the sweat pants and sweat shirt we brought for her.”
Casi took the cue and started to cool the story down as well. “We bagged her head up again when we left so that she couldn’t see where the safehouse was. We drove her around in the van for about an hour before we went to the local hospital to drop her off. She wasn’t in any medical danger, of course--we just wanted to make sure she had plenty of people insisting that she give all the details of the night. That way she would remember as well as possible. That, and we wanted to make sure the van’s plates ended up in security camera footage.”
Zoe took her turn in the cool-down. “Of course, on a normal operation we’d have ditched the van long before we brought the mark back out into the world, but this time we kept the vehicle and stayed in motels close to Interstates, where lots of police would have chances to see it. And it only took them a few days to find us.”
Gina took the story up again. “And once we had been arrested and our trial date was set, our Andromeda sisters got word to us that our next assignment was inside, that Mama Sam was our two-for-one target. So once the judge put us in, we already had a plan in place to sail on out of there. And you know that story.”
Casi could hardly keep her hands off of Katie. “We got Mama Sam’s intel, and we flew that coop, and now here we are, waiting for our next job and our new names.”
“Wait. New names?”
Casi laughed. “Oh yes, sugar. Next time you see us, we won’t be Casi and Zoe and Gina. We’ll have new names and new stories and new papers. That’s what’s so great about Andromeda--our bank accounts are linked to numbers, not names, so when each of us decides to get out, we can go to whatever country we want and live out our lives and find girls to tickle legally and live whatever kind of lives we want. Andromeda girls are goddesses, sugar!”
Katie’s breath caught for a moment. “What do you mean next time?”
