Tickle Test Female-Female tickling erotica copyright 2017 by Jason Pinaster

[JasonPinaster]

Tickle Test Female-Female tickling erotica copyright 2017 by Jason Pinaster

It was early morning. Except for Sasha working away at the video editing station, the office was completely silent. Mark, the videographer, and Tom, the producer, had shot the raw footage. The shoot had featured Marjorie being tickled while bound to the Dominator, a bondage frame which let her sit but had spread her arms and legs. Sasha, in a skimpy yellow bikini, had done the tickling.

Marjorie was wearing lace lingerie, bright red to complement her dark brown hair. Her engorged nipples were clearly visible. It was just as well that Marjorie had big nipples because her breasts were anything but. She was tall and attractive, just short of being beautiful. Her tummy was flat, her hips thin. Sasha envied her lovely long legs.

Sasha pauses the video head on a frame of her looking directly at the camera. But she hadn’t been looking at the camera; she’d been looking at Mark. The cameraman was well over six feet tall with a barrel chest, thin waist, burgeoning muscles, and black hair, wavy and combed back. Mark was handsome—he deserved to be in front of the camera—perfect teeth set between wide full lips, broad cheeks and temples to frame his deep brown eyes. Ordinarily brown eyes didn’t turn Sasha on, but Mark’s were so expressive.

She bit her lip, remembering her reaction to Mark. She’d suddenly felt a tightness in her chest and a weakening in her legs. But fortunately Mark had moved the camera down to the girl she’d been tickling and hadn’t caught Sasha holding onto the Dominator to prevent her knees from buckling. Sasha had managed to take a deep breath and somehow had managed to keep her mind off Mark for the rest of the shoot.

The next sequence showed Marjorie screaming and thrashing as Sasha tickled her left armpit with a feather. The sequence was excellent, notwithstanding that Marjorie had certainly exaggerated her responses to the feather. Sasha dropped the sequence into the main timeline. Had there been a problem with the sequence, Sasha would have had to have considered using footage from the stationary camera above the bondage frame or from one of the cameras deployed off to its sides and front.

It was easy to fake being tickled, but almost impossible to do it well. Faking an orgasm was much, much easier. Six months ago, Marjorie had ruined a shot by faking. Even Tom had seen it. “Cut!” he’d yelled.

Sasha had taken Marjorie aside and hugged her until she’d calmed down. “You can’t fake it,” she’d told the taller and skinnier woman.

“But I have to show I’m being tickled.”

“You can’t fake being tickled.”

Marjorie shook her head and looked forlorn.

“You have to wait until you actually feel yourself being tickled.”

“My real reaction,” Marjorie made a barely perceptible gasp, “doesn’t quite cut it.”

“It’s alright to amplify your reactions. They’ll be believable as long as you actually feel yourself being tickled.”

Marjorie had taken a moment to gather herself while Sasha persuaded Tom to give her another chance.

Sasha switched to the overhead camera and watched herself readying to transition to another target on Marjorie’s body. Mark had been out of position for the belly tickle so she’d helped him out by moving around to Marjorie’s right side. Sasha switched to the feed from one of the side cameras, watched her bikini-clad body move around the Dominator platform, and studied Marjorie’s laughter as the feather trailed along her arms. She switched back to Mark’s camera as it zoomed in on the feather tickling Marjorie’s wrist and her efforts to wrench her arm free.

By the time Sasha lifted the feather, Mark had zoomed out to a wide shot and Sasha froze the frame to study herself. She was momentarily sad that she wasn’t as young as she was five years ago. She scowled at the subtle loosening under her cheekbones. But she was still pretty and her long blonde hair still had a sheen in it. She was pleased with the subtle darkening of her eyelashes—not the black that some blondes feel a need to employ; just enough to contrast with her hair and yellow bikini. And her breasts were still full, round and firm. No flab on her arms. And no matter how old I get, she thought, no one will be able to take my tattoos away, especially not the one of the huge Koi fish on my shoulder. And, on the monitor, her touch as a tickler was perfect—showing enjoyment along with Marjorie and the occasional glee at the torment she was inflicting.

The best torment was her fingers brushing over Marjorie’s nipple as she moved her hand towards the brunette’s belly. Marjorie reacted, but it wasn’t possible to tell if she’d been tickled or aroused. Sasha remembered the touch of the firm and very hard bud and that she’d been aroused under her yellow bikini.

It was the only time Sasha could remember having been turned on by touching a woman. She’d been turned on plenty by being touched by a woman, especially when the touch had started with tickling. But touching Marjorie’s nipple was the first time Sasha could remember being aroused just by touching another woman.

Sasha played the video heads back and forth over the moment. Should she edit the nipple touch out? Sasha zoomed in on the nipple. The same tingle she’d had felt during shooting danced around her sex. But now warmth accompanied the tingling. Sasha checked the footage from the camera above the bondage platform Marjorie had been strapped into. The nipple brush was even more obvious. Sasha decided to leave the footage Mark had shot in place. Hopefully no one would notice.

People began to drift into the office. First was the receptionist/bookkeeper, then the webmaster who was responsible for keeping the tickleabuse.com website purring 24/7. Then Tom. Tom had built up the business from scratch and still kept his finger on the pulse of its every aspect.

Sasha completed her edit of the video and saved it to a DVD. She contemplated waltzing it into Tom’s office which was on the opposite of the glassed-in enclosure housing the video editing unit. But she decided to stay put. Maybe her presence would excite his imagination for a scene she’d be perfect for. God knew he hadn’t given her much work lately, work she, or rather her landlord, desperately needed. Tom was solely responsible for recruiting and directing the performers. Lately that hadn’t included her.

So instead, Sasha navigated to the tickleabuse website and played some of her old videos. In the first, she was wearing the same yellow bikini. But this time she’d been the one tickled. By Aisha. Sasha shivered just remembering the experience. On the screen, Aisha tugged at her bikini. It hadn’t been clear to her at the time why Aisha had been so concerned with her bikini, but she remembered the material brushing across her nipples and across her sex and having feeling slightly aroused.

Aisha was wearing a figure-fitting one-piece grey dress. Good that it fit her figure because her figure was perfect. The lack of color in her dress put Aisha’s beautiful brown skin on full display. The video began with the black woman attaching Sasha’s arms at right angles to her body. Then Aisha spread her legs and buckled them in too.

Aisha checked to make sure that all the bindings were secure. She bent over Sasha, revealing the tops of two luscious chocolate orbs. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yes,” responded Sasha.”

“I’m going to make you scream.” Aisha touched Sasha’s thighs.

“You can try.” But Sasha’s defiance was misplaced—Aisha’s deft touch on her belly had almost produced a scream already.

“I’m going to make you beg for mercy.”

“Never.” But on the screen, every time the ebony fingers touched Sasha’s skin, it was clear that she shivered.

“You will laugh and laugh and laugh.”

“Only if you tell a good joke.”

Now Aisha’s lips were next to Sasha’s ear and she whispered something. It wasn’t loud enough for the microphone to have picked it up. But Sasha remembered the dark lips whispering, “And you will come,” into her ear.

Sasha had been too dumbfounded to whisper back. Orgasm?! With a woman?!?

Aisha pulled her lips back and flicked her tongue out. Sasha shivered and giggled.

“See, I told you I’d make you laugh.”

“That was only a giggle.”

On the monitor, black fingers on white ribs had Sasha writhing and laughing on contact. Aisha had kept it up until Sasha had almost fainted for lack of oxygen.

The black woman withdrew her fingers and watched Sasha heave air into her lungs. “And I suppose you’re going to tell me that that was ‘only a giggle’?” She returned her fingers to just above Sasha’s skin.

Sasha wasn’t able to speak but she shook her head back and forth vigorously.

Aisha’s lips whispered silently into Sasha’s ears. Sasha remembered her asking, “Are you ready?”

On the screen, Sasha relaxed. She remembered thinking, if all you’re going to do is whisper, I’m not going to get turned on, let alone climax.

Then two fingers, right at the center of Sasha’s armpits had her screaming blue bloody murder! Aisha kept up the torture for an eternity, then scratched her fingernails halfway down Sasha’s torso.

Aisha smiled down at the thin white body gasping air into her lungs. “All that’s left is you begging for mercy,” she taunted.

“Never!” Sasha had wanted something more defiant, but all that had emerged from her mouth had been a wheeze.

Aisha shrugged, the form-fitting material of her dress accentuating the gesture, and moved down to Sasha’s feet. Sasha giggled as black fingers raked red fingernails up and down her soles. She remembered having thought that if that was all the black woman had, she’d be the one begging for mercy. And then Aisha would have two strikes against her as she’d apparently forgotten about any sex play. Which was good because Sasha’s bikini was now very loose against her skin.

Suddenly the computer monitor showed Sasha’s eyes bugging out. Sasha smiled ruefully. At first she hadn’t realized what was happening, only that every nerve up her legs, in her sex and up her back was being tickled all at once. She wasn’t able to breathe, not even a puff of air. Finally Sasha had grasped what was happening. Aisha was sucking her big toe. Her big black lips were giving Sasha’s tiny white toe a blowjob!

If Sasha had had time to prepare, she might have been able to resist. But no preparation time had been permitted. As soon as Aisha took a breath, Sasha cried “Mercy!” Or at least, she tried to cry. All that came out of the computer speakers was a rattling rasp.

“Mercy me,” Aisha taunted, “I couldn’t quite make that out.” She turned to the videographer. “Did she say something?”

“Mercy!” Sasha yelled, finally able to manage full volume.

“I think she begged for mercy,” said the videographer’s voice.

Aisha shrugged, her back still to Sasha. “Then I guess it’s time for her close-up.”

What the hell is she talking about, Sasha had remembered thinking. A close-up? But she hadn’t had to wait long for an answer.

On the monitor, the fingers of Aisha’s left hand were on Sasha’s armpit. Nothing else was visible. And the close-up meant that every bump of the white woman’s hair follicles was visible, along with the lines of each brush stroke on the red fingernail polish. What wasn’t visible on the monitor was the reason why Sasha was suddenly gasping.

The fingers of Aisha’s right hand cuddled Sasha’s breasts under her bikini and kneaded her nipples. After all the tickles, it felt heavenly. Little tingles trickled down Sasha’s tummy into her sex. Never had her breasts been so expertly caressed. Aisha gently twisted her nipples, but now Sasha had no memory of what that had felt like. All she recalled was the warmth building under her bikini bottom. Sasha hadn’t cared if it was man or woman arousing her. It had been wonderful. She had shut her eyes to savor every sensation.

Sasha gasped through the speakers and the image on the monitor shifted to Aisha’s head moving down Sasha’s tummy. Pink tongue between white teeth and black lips began to lick at her belly button. Aisha’s left hand held her hair out of the way—her long, black, shiny, beautiful hair—and pushed it up over her head where it tickled Sasha’s thighs. Nothing was visible beyond Aisha’s chin; her luxuriant locks were impenetrable. On screen, her tongue lapped away at Sasha’s navel.

But it wasn’t Aisha’s hair or her tongue that Sasha remembered from that day. It was the fingers of her right hand slipping under her bikini, her fingers brushing up and down her pussy lips. It was her fingers circling and rubbing her clit. Sasha melted and boiled. A drop of moisture escaped from her pussy and dribbled down her thighs. At least Mark’s camera hadn’t seen that!

And then Aisha’s fingers were inside her pussy. Two, three? She couldn’t tell. Aisha was touching her all over. Spots inside her which Sasha hadn’t been aware of. Aisha’s thumb softly tapped against the top of her clit, then circled. Everything was hot and tight, tight all the way up to her belly button!

Sasha remembered losing control and spasming hysterically. Now, on the monitor, it looked like she was squirming and twisting from being tickled. Thankfully! The end of the video showed her out of breath. But that was okay; it wasn’t the first time that day she’d been out of breath.

As Sasha cued up the second video, she wondered whether the habits of Aisha’s wandering fingers had been the stimulus for Tom setting up multiple cameras for his future taping sessions.

The second video showed Sasha being tickled by Glenda. It was supposed to have been Glenda being tickled. Glenda was redheaded and had freckles all over her body. The plan had been to see which freckle was the most ticklish. But Glenda had suffered a dislocation of her right knee the night before and had come into the studio with a rather large and definitely unsexy knee brace. Sasha had volunteered to be tickled. Tom, not having any other choice, had accepted Sasha’s offer. Sasha smiled as she watched herself thrashing and screaming. She might have been a walk-on, but it was still one of her better performances.

Over the next two months, Sasha had helped Glenda with her physiotherapy and finally the redhead had been ready to be strapped into the Dominator. Turns out a little freckle midway up her left ribcage was the most ticklish. Glenda had gone on to do several more videos for Tickle Abuse.

Tom looked up and Sasha waved in his direction. He smiled at her greeting and she smiled back. Well, he had noticed me, she thought. Hopefully it would lead to a session in front of the camera.

The third video was her revenge on Aisha. As the tickler, Sasha had had the right to specify what her victim would wear, so Aisha was wearing baby-blue satin lingerie. She’d been raving about the outfit, how romantic it had been when her husband had purchased it for her. Sasha had worn the same yellow bikini she’d been tickled in.

Before the camera rolled, Sasha had brought two large glasses of Mountain Dew over to share with Aisha. She’d recently learned that the soft drink contained large amounts of caffeine.

Sasha pointed to Aisha’s lingerie. “It was nice of your husband to buy that for you.”

“Uh, uh.” She wiggled her hips suggestively. “What’s your boyfriend buying you these days?”

“We broke up.”

“Oh, baby.” Aisha had hugged her and the two women had commiserated until Mark indicated that it was time to strap Aisha in. Sasha had taken their glasses and set them off camera as Aisha had laid down on a long massage table.

The video started with Aisha laid flat on the massage table, her extremities attached to its corner legs, Sasha on her left side, Aisha watching her every move. As Sasha walked around table trailing a white feather over Aisha’s chocolate skin, she inspected the lingerie. The panties were bikini style, dipping from her hips down to the top of her pubic prominence. The bra lifted and shaped the round mounds of Aisha’s magnificent breasts then clasped in the front.

Aisha was an expert tickler so Sasha had done some extra preparation for the session. She’d learned that tickling works because light touching of the top layer of skin sends signals to two parts of the brain, one which governs pleasure, and the other which governs pressure. Confusion between these two neural centers results in the sensation of tickling—laughter, fear and pain all mixed and muddled together. Light touch prepares the body for both pain and pleasure. Good tickling locks the body right in the middle. You can’t tickle yourself because the brain knows what you’re doing, so you never get to the point of confusion.

Further, some parts of the body, including the ticklish parts, are more sensitive than others. So very light pressure may tickle the tummy while heavier pressure may be required to tickle the ribs. Heavier pressure on the tummy goes straight to pain without resulting in tickling. But every person is different.

Aisha wasn’t reacting to the feather. As Sasha arrived at the right side of the black woman’s head, she resolved to keep Aisha’s brain locked as securely at the point of maximal confusion for as long as possible.

“You’re not doing very well,” noted Aisha.

“Maybe here.” Sasha unclasped Aisha’s bra and twirled the feather over each of the dark buds in the center of Aisha’s breasts. The nipples got harder and higher, but Sasha’s feather provoked no other reaction.

“You’ve touched every part of my body and you still haven’t found a single ticklish spot,” teased Aisha.

Sasha smiled, unconcerned. Her plan went beyond mere tickling.

Furthermore, Aisha was wrong. Sasha had observed micro reactions to the feather while it had trailed along her dark skin. And she knew, from watching previous videos of Aisha being tickled, that her feet and armpits were particularly sensitive. Properly approached, her belly and ribs could also be attacked.

“Nothing?” asked Sasha twirling her feather around the black woman’s ear. “You didn’t feel a thing?”

Aisha smiled smugly and shook her head.

Sasha dropped her feather down to Aisha’s armpit and twirled again. Aisha swallowed a gasp.

“Nothing there, either?”

“No.” Sasha lowered the twirling feather to the bottom of Aisha’s armpit. The ebony woman’s whole right side tensed.

“There?”

“No. Nothing.”

Now all bets were off. Aisha was lying about not being ticklish and Sasha knew it. And Aisha knew that she knew. Sasha angled herself so that Mark’s camera would have a clear view of her fingers gently probing the black armpit, of Aisha’s subtle reactions and especially of her efforts to hide them.

Finally Sasha found a spot so sensitive that Aisha gasped uncontrollably. Still she held her body still. But when Sasha reached across her body and touched the same spot on Aisha’s left armpit, the ebony woman burst into laughter and thrashed all over the table.

“Are you ticklish there?” asked Sasha, her voice full of innocence.

But Aisha could only laugh and thrash.

Sasha removed her fingers. “Are you ticklish there?” she repeated.

“I’ll get you for that.”

“Get me for what?”

Aisha glared up at her. Sasha shrugged. Aisha kept glaring as Sasha moved down to her belly, spreading white fingers across black flesh and then gently dragging them back and forth. Aisha kept up her glare, channeling anger to suppress her tickle response.

Sasha poked a finger into Aisha’s navel.

Aisha laughed. It wasn’t a tickle laugh but rather a laugh of derision. “You wouldn’t know how.”

Sasha did know how; she’d studied Aisha being driven to paroxysms of laughter. But today, Sasha had two goals—tickling of course, but even more important to make the session last as long as possible, to make it last until Aisha begged for her to stop. And then to make it last even longer.

“Tell me how.”

“Ha, you wish.” Aisha’s glare had been replaced with smugness.

Sasha circled the little black hole with her finger. “Like this?”

“Not even close.”

She moved her finger in and out. “Like this?”

Aisha chuckled.

Sasha moved her finger back and forth against the sides of Aisha’s navel. “Like this?”

“No, not like that. You have to—” Aisha swallowed the rest of her answer with a smile.

Sasha smiled back. “Like this?”

Before the black woman could answer, Sasha’s lips had surrounded the little indentation on Aisha’s chocolate tummy and her tongue had darted inside. Sasha hadn’t seen Aisha’s reaction at the time, but she had felt her tummy spasm and had heard her victim pant and giggle.

Now, on the monitor, Aisha’s head was whipping from side to side in a vain effort to escape.

Sasha heard her voice ask, “Like that?” Aisha finally managed to lie still.

“No. That didn’t tickle,” gasped Aisha.

“Like this?” Sasha’s voice asked, still off camera.

“No—”

Again Aisha’s head whipped back and forth, her long black hair flying about uncontrollably.

“How was that?” asked Sasha’s voice.

“No,” gasped Aisha.

“Ok, I’ll keep trying,” said her voice.

This time Aisha’s head moved in a circle, creating a vortex with her jet-black hair.

“How was that?” Sasha was by her head, whispering in her ear.

“That was—” She paused to gulp air into her lungs. “Fine.”

“How’re your feet feeling today?”

“No, don’t please.”

“Your ribs then?” Sasha’s fingers dug into the chocolate covered ribs and Aisha did her best to slide up and down on the table, trying to escape the probing fingers.

When Aisha stopped breathing, Sasha lifted her fingers. “So, feet or ribs?”

“No! I have to pee!”

“Too much Mountain Dew?” Sasha heard her voice mock. Her fingers were playing Aisha’s ribs just enough to induce little spasms, but not so much that Aisha couldn’t speak.

“You tricked me!”

“Tricked you how?”

“You made me drink, then made me keep talking so I wouldn’t have time to go to the washroom.”

“Made you? Made you how?”

“I’ll get you for this. Now stop. I have to pee.”

“Beg.”

“Sasha! Stop! I have to pee!”

“Beg.” On screen, Sasha hit a slightly more sensitive spot.

“Sasha. Stop! I’m serious,” gasped Aisha.

“Are you saying you want to be my slave?”

“Sasha!”

“Are you conceding,” Sasha heard her voice persist, “that you’re my slave?” Being her slave would mean that Aisha would have to do whatever Sasha asked of her until she released her from servitude. No exceptions. Sasha knew that Aisha would never agree.

“Sasha!”

On screen Sasha moved down to Aisha’s feet. The camera followed to shoot over her shoulder, and up Aisha’s leg to her crotch. The light blue panties were pressed tightly against Aisha’s sex. They were spotlessly pristine.

Sasha’s fingers moved up and down the soles of Aisha’s feet. Just beyond Sasha’s head, two dark brown knees jerked up and down.

“Sasha!” screamed Aisha.

Sasha moved her fingers to just below Aisha’s toes where she knew that the black woman was most ticklish.

“Sash—” Aisha needed all available air for breathing.

Sasha remembered smiling, but all the camera showed was the back of her head.

After a few moments, Sasha relented and returned her fingers lower, where Aisha was less sensitive.

“Sasha, please! I have to pee.”

“Are you begging me?”

“Yes, I’m begging you.”

“And you’ll be my slave?”

“Sasha, I’m begging you. Stop! I have to pee!”

Sasha removed her hands from Aisha’s feet. The black woman stopped thrashing. She must have thought that Sasha was about to release her. Smooth chocolate thighs tried to press themselves together, but the restraints held them apart.

“Did you stop when Alyssa begged you to?” Sasha’s voice asked. A previous video had shown Aisha tickling Alyssa. Alyssa had begged her to stop. But Aisha had unrelenting and a dark spot had started to show through Alyssa’s pink bikini. Aisha had kept tickling and the dark wet spot had kept growing and growing…

“Sasha!”

“Aisha?” Sasha stood and faced her. It wasn’t visible on camera, but Sasha remembered alternating between Aisha’s less sensitive soles and just under her toes.

“Let me go!”

“And why would I do that?”

On screen, Sasha’s head dipped downward and Mark just managed to capture her lips enveloping one of Aisha’s big toes.

“Sash—”

Aisha tried to wrench her foot away, but Sasha had both her hands wrapped around it, holding it securely in place. When Sasha stood up, Aisha’s satin lingerie loose around her crotch. The camera was zoomed in on them. There might have been a tiny dark spot in the center of Aisha’s panties.

“It’s not nice to just do one,” Sasha heard her voice say.

“No! Please! I have to—”

This time, Mark got a perfect shot of Sasha’s lips kissing Aisha’s toe and sliding it into her mouth as if it was a chocolate popsicle. Aisha thrashed with all her might.

“Fuck!” screamed Aisha. She tugged and pulled, trying to wrench her toe free.

“Fuck!” This time it was a moan, defeat. Sasha’s head lifted. On the monitor, there was a steady stream of liquid pouring through Aisha’s panties. Her pristine baby-blue panties. The ones her husband had given her.

Sasha cued up the fourth video, one of her being tickled by Mark, and pressed play. Mark was nude above the waist and she drooled over his well-defined muscles. Even better, he’d applied a light coat of oil and his skin glistened. Sasha was strapped to the massage table, wearing nothing but sheer lingerie, light purple. The thong had clasps on either side, the bra a clasp in the middle. Her nipples pressed upwards, doing their best to poke through the thin material.

While they had waited for the cameras to be set up, before she’d been strapped in, Sasha had laid her palm against his chest. He had moaned, almost imperceptibly, but still. “When I’m strapped in, I won’t be able to touch you,” she’d told him.

“Would you like to touch me now?”

“Yes.” But when he’d reached for her, she’d held his hand away.

“But?”

“You asked me if I wanted to touch you, not if I wanted you to touch me.”

He had lowered his arm.

“I want to touch you now, the way I want you to touch me when I’m strapped onto the table.”

They had both looked at the table and he had nodded. She had gently caressed his chest, paying particular attention to his nipples. Her hands had tickled his ribs, then moved lower and lower, past his belt, past his zipper. Then she’d gently squeezed.

On the computer monitor, Mark was tickling her ribs. Sasha’s hips were flopping back and forth, every movement drawing the diaphanous material of her thong tighter and tighter, revealing more and more of the outline of her sex.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sasha noticed someone new coming into the office. She paused the video. Tom saw the newcomer and smiled in her direction as he rose to greet her. Sasha knew the look in Tom’s eye. It was the look he gave all the new girls. It was the same look he’d favored her with long ago when he had turned on his charm to recruit her.

The newcomer sat down across from Tom, her purple hair bouncing atop her head. Sasha decided to look on the bright side; at least she wouldn’t have to compete with another blonde. The newcomer was slightly shorter than Sasha and had wider hips. But her breasts were noticeably smaller. She smiled back at Tom. Sasha’s heart sank; the newcomer was naturally beautiful. The camera would love her.

Maybe the newcomer was a walk-in and Tom was just being polite. Maybe Sasha would still be the one starring in the new video— But Tom raised a file and it was obvious that the file belonged to the newcomer. Tom was recruiting.

Why was he recruiting new talent? Why?!? Sasha had always been willing to do whatever he’d asked. She looked at her reflection in the computer monitor, hiding behind it so that Tom couldn’t see her. And she was still fit and attractive. Why would Tom be bringing in someone new? Especially someone with purple hair of all things?!?

To bolster her argument, Sasha cued up her most recent video. Before hitting play, she shut the video of Mark tickling her. She could always watch that later. When she was alone.

Sasha pressed play and the room was filled with her screaming. She quickly stabbed the mute key and looked around to make sure no one had heard. On the screen Raquel tickled her armpits, sending shivers up and down her body, sending her red lingerie this way and that.

Maybe Tom was replacing Raquel! The thought burst into Sasha’s brain like a drug. But the euphoria faded as Sasha watched her performance. Raquel was new and young and vibrant. She, on the other hand, was old and stale. Sasha glanced up at Tom and the purple-haired beauty who smiled and laughed at all his standard jokes, then back down at the video. After a few more minutes of critiquing her performance, Sasha couldn’t bear to watch any more. In the other office, the newcomer was ten times as vivacious. And she wasn’t even being tickled!

The phone at Sasha’s elbow startled her heart into her throat, but Sasha quickly recovered and picked up the handset. “TickleAb—”

“Sasha—glad you’re here,” Tom’s voice boomed in her ear. “I have a new candidate. Valora. Would you be able to give her a tickle test?”

“Sure. When did you have in mind?”

“After lunch?”

“No problem.”

Sasha’s heart, fully recovered from its scare, beat a happy rhythm. He had called the newcomer a ‘candidate’. That meant that he hadn’t decided whether to add Valora to his stable of performers. Even better, the test would be filmed and Tom always paid when the camera was running. She might be able to pay this month’s rent after all!

Sasha recalled her own tickle test, administered almost an eternity ago. Nikki, another blonde, had stripped her nude and strapped her arms into the Dominator. Nikki cinched her legs in while they were still together, so Sasha had managed to calm herself down from the shock of being nude in front of strangers. Then Nikki had spread her legs and clicked the bondage platform into place and her most intimate parts had been on display for everyone to see! Sasha had tried to close her legs, but the Dominator had had held them spread wide.

Nikki hadn’t used any implements—back then Tom hadn’t fully developed his arsenal—but rather had alternated between the tips of her fingernails and the flat pads of her fingertips as she probed every inch of Sasha’s body.

Each time Nikki found a sensitive spot, she called it out: “Neck. Earlobe. Shoulder. Underarm. Armpit.” Nikki had lingered here, “Center. Lower. Bottom,” before moving on, “Ribs. Belly. Belly button! Edge.” Edge had been the edge of Sasha’s vulva. “Inner thighs. Knees top. Knees underneath!”

Nikki wasn’t really tickling her and Sasha remembered thinking that this wasn’t much of a test. Then Nikki’s fingers had attacked Sasha’s armpits and she couldn’t think, she couldn’t breathe! Her body was whipping this way and that in random uncontrolled spasms.

“You didn’t check her feet,” Sasha had heard the cameraman in the distance. Mercifully, the fingers had left her armpits.

Nikki’s lips were by Sasha’s ears. “I already know about her feet,” she whispered. Sasha shivered all the way down to her toes.

“I need to see,” the cameraman had repeated.

No, Sasha remembered having pleaded deep inside her head. No! Tell him that you already know that my feet are ticklish, that— And then Nikki’s fingers had zigzagged back and forth down her soles. Sasha could only remember the beginning. Partway through, everything had turned white.

After lunch, Sasha watched Valora, now resplendent in a sparkling blue bikini, going through her stretches. Sasha had a brief thought about giving the newcomer a sharp poke to the stomach, about how quickly her candidacy would end if the camera recorded her barfing all over herself. But Sasha shook her head; that wouldn’t be fair.

“That looks nice on you,” said Sasha, pointing to Valora’s string bikini. She herself was wearing black and purple lingerie.

“Thanks.”

“So, what made you come into Tickle Abuse?”

“I heard it was fun.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it?” She wants to steal food off my table, thought Sasha, just for some fun?!?

“I guess that’s what the test is for.”

Sasha nodded, reconsidering her decision not to sabotage the test as Valora climbed into the Dominator. The Dominator had a seating platform, padded leather, just slightly more than chair-height off the floor. The arms of the person being tickled could be strapped in at the elbow or wrist or both. Then her arms could be held sideways from her body or straight up over her head. Legs could be strapped in at the thigh and at the ankle. Today, Valora would be strapped in at her elbows, wrists and ankles. Her knees would be left free to react to Sasha’s touch.

Making her puke might be too obvious, but there were other ways to subvert a tickle test, thought Sasha. Touching too softly or too firmly would trick the purple-haired demon into ruining the shot by faking her reactions. But Sasha shook her head. Other girls in Tom’s stable might stoop to such tactics, but not her. Valora would succeed or fail on her own merits.

Sasha inspected Valora carefully as she strapped her in. Her skin was smooth and soft, her belly taut. The muscles on her arms were well-defined but not so large as to be unfeminine. Her make-up was lightly applied, just enough to accentuate her light brown, but very expressive, eyes. Her teeth matched the orthodontic ideal, complimenting her perfectly proportioned and perfectly symmetrical facial features. Other than the strange color of her hair, she was, thought Sasha ruefully, quite pretty.

Sasha cinched in Valora elbows and wrists, snapping the supports in place to hold her arms at right angles to her body. Holding her arms above her head would have given her more cleavage. Sasha might not be willing to undermine the test, but there was no need to give the newcomer an unnecessary advantage.

Valora’s legs were long and thin. A little muscle definition would have helped her. Sasha quickly calculated which camera angles would accentuate this minor defect. On her right thigh was a set of odd tattoos: two shrimps with a ball inside a winged heart and to its left a sickle surrounded by candies. Sasha thought about directing the camera to the strange tattoos, but that would mean putting her deliciously wide hips on display as well.

The Dominator would hold Valora’s thighs upward to her knees. Sasha attached her ankles only. Maybe if she gave her some slack, Valora would hang herself. Sasha double-checked the straps holding Valora to the bondage device. She thought about loosening the strings to her bikini bottom, but that might lead to nudity. Men liked nudity. Tom was a man. Besides, the pronounced mound of Valora’s vulva, even under her bikini bottom, gave the purple devil advantage enough.

Sasha held up a strip of black cloth. “You’ll need to be blindfolded for the test.”

Valora looked at the piece of black material and its trailing elastic straps. “Blindfolded? Why?”

“Blindfolded. The purpose of the test is to see what parts of your body are ticklish and their relative sensitivity. If you can see where I’m about to touch, it might influence your reaction.”

Valora sat still as the blindfold was put over her head. Sasha could feel both nervousness and excitement under the purple hair as she adjusted the straps for maximum coverage.

In the period since Sasha had undergone her tickle test, Tom had refined the tryout. Areas of ticklishness would no longer be orally recorded for fear of influencing the candidate. Rather the tester would nod as soon as she detected an area of ticklishness.

Sasha picked up a large white feather and started at Valora’s left ear. Valora’s whole body tensed. It was subtle but immediate and unmistakable nonetheless. Sasha nodded, then moved to Valora’s right ear. Same reaction. Sasha nodded again. The test would proceed on the basis that Valora was equally ticklish on both sides of her body. A quick test on her other side would be done at the end to verify.

Valora’s right shoulder was also ticklish as was her right arm and armpit. There was no reaction to the feather on her ribs, belly button or thighs. But her knee popped up when the feather touched the uppermost point of her knee and her whole leg vibrated when Sasha tickled the soft spot underneath the knee.

The feather provoked reactions all over Valora’s feet—top, soles, toes. Underneath, her toes curled towards the feather. Feather on top provoked a start. But her legs, and even her hips, vibrated when Sasha teased the feather back and forth across her soles.

Sasha dropped the feather and wiggled her fingers. Two fingers on Valora’s left ribs had her screaming and writhing, purple hair flying back and forth. A kiss to her navel lifted her butt off her seat. And her thighs betrayed a definite reaction to Sasha’s touch.

Valora was the same on her left side except that her thigh was less ticklish than on the other side and her left toes were even more ticklish than those on her right.

“You’re ticklish everywhere,” pronounced Sasha as she rubbed her neck which was now sore from the constant nodding.

“So, I passed?”

“Yes,” responded Sasha, removing the blindfold. The cameraman angled his camera towards Valora’s face.

“Great! Test complete!” Valora tugged at the straps holding her arms away from her body, a clear hint to Sasha that she should be released.

“Not quite.”

Valora tugged at her left ankle. “But you said I passed.”

“That was only the pass/fail part of the test.” Sasha lifted Valora’s purple strands out of the way and lightly touched the back of her neck.

Valora giggled. “But you said I passed.”

“You passed phase one,” she said. “Now we have to test for intensity.”

“Intensi—”

Sasha’s finger in Valora’s armpit choked off her question.

Two fingers and Valora screamed! She managed to pull away. “No! You said I passed!”

Sasha re-established contact and Valora writhed and screamed. She tried to lift herself away but succeeded only in bouncing up and down on the Dominator.

Valora finally managed to regain a modicum of control. “That’s enough! You said I passed!” But her voice was still up an octave. She continued to bounce her breasts, much like a two-year-old throwing a tantrum.

Sasha moved to her victim’s other armpit. Valora was straining to get away even before Sasha’s fingers approached. And she was writhing even before skin touched skin.

“No!” screamed Valora as soon as Sasha’s fingers found their target. “No!”

Sasha pulled her hand back. “You’ve had enough of my fingers?”

“Yes,” she gasped.

Sasha opened the drawer of a cabinet which had been in the shadows and pulled out an electric toothbrush. It had a thick handle and a stubby shaft atop which was a white-bristled brush.

“My teeth aren’t ticklish,” said Valora, a smug look on her face.

Sasha shrugged and moved down to Valora’s feet. She touched the toothbrush to the sole of Valora’s right foot.

“That’s not how you use a toothbrush,” said Valora, still looking smug.

Sasha pulled the brush off Valora’s foot. She flipped the ‘on’ switch of the tooth brush and it began to hum.

“You’re crazy,” concluded Valora.

“Crazier than you can imagine.” Sasha touched the vibrating bristles to the bottom of the sole of Valora’s foot.

“Fuck!” screamed Valora, purple hair blowing back and forth across her face.

Sasha moved the brush ever higher. Valora’s screams went up and up in pitch. She tried to move her foot sideways to escape the buzzing bristles, but Sasha kept the brush head dead center on her sole.

When the bristles reached Valora’s toes, her brown eyes bugged out and she stopped breathing.

Sasha waited until Valora’s face was starting to match the color of her hair and only then turned off the toothbrush.

“Did I pass?” panted Valora. “The complete test?”

Sasha started to nod. “Yes.” Both women watched the cameraman remove his video-camera from its tripod and leave the room.

“Who watches these videos?”

“Men mostly.”

“Why?

“They find tickling sexy.”

“Tickling? Sexy?”

Sasha nodded. “You’re bound in place which perfectly fuels male fantasies of dominance and control. Tickling enhances those fantasies, especially giggling and laughter which shows that the victim is enjoying the experience.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Sasha reached behind Valora’s back and undid the bottom knot of her blue bikini top. In front, her fingers loosened the straps and lightly stroked the underside of Valora’s breasts.

“Dominance and control?”

Sasha’s fingertips stroked slight higher and she felt Valora shiver. “And what really caps it off is the intersection of ticklish spots and erogenous zones.”

“Intersection?”

“Intersection. For example, the back of the neck is both erotic and highly ticklish. Would you like me to show you?” She played with the leather buckle holding Valora’s elbow in place. “Or should I let you go?”

Valora’s eyes twitched with uncertainty, but she nodded. “Sure, show me.”

Sasha smirked at the nonchalance Valora had affected, shifted her purple hair to the side and touched the back of her neck. Valora flushed and bucked all at the same time, further loosening her bikini top.

“Also, cheeks, neck, shoulders, belly-button, thighs, knees and feet,” Sasha continued, smiling at Valora’s shivers. “Sometimes even the sexual organs. But even if those organs themselves aren’t ticklish, the areas surrounding them always are. And of course, the breasts.”

Sasha stroked one hand along the outer edge of Valora’s areola and this time her shivers went down the entire side of her body. Valora recovered and scanned the room. “Where’s the cameraman? Shouldn’t this be taped?”

“This is just us girls,” whispered Sasha into her ear. She touched further up Valora’s breast, now venturing half way into her areola, and was pleased to see Valora’s whole body shiver. With her other hand, Sasha lifted Valora’s bikini top up and off her breasts, revealing two fully engorged nipples.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

Sasha rubbed the bottom of her fingers across Valora’s nipples.

“That’s not tickling,” gasped Valora.

“No, what is it?”

While Valora searched for an answer, Sasha used her left hand to tickle Valora’s armpit while gently moving back and forth between Valora’s nipples with firm caresses and gentle twistings between thumb and forefinger with her right.

Sasha kissed Valora’s forehead as if comforting a child in distress. “You’re shivering, it must be tickling.”

“My armpit is shivering, my nipples—”

“Are enjoying themselves?” Sasha felt a tingle in her own nipples and had to hold her body still.

“Yes.” Valora shut her eyes and relaxed, savoring the fingers stimulating her nipples and riding the shivers undulating up and down her spine the way a surfer rides the waves.

Sasha let Valora enjoy a moment of pleasure, but only a moment. Her fingers moved down to Valora’s washboard-hard tummy and softly moved up and down. Her victim’s shivers intensified, gradually opening her brown eyes.

Valora slowly turned her head towards her tormentor. “That’s tickling.”

“Nothing sexual?”

Valora shook her head.

“Nothing at all?”

“Nothing.”

Sasha jabbed her fingers into Valora’s ribs. Purple hair swished in all directions. Valora screamed!

Sasha prolonged the torture for a few moments, then withdrew her hands. “What about that?”

“Tickling,” gasped Valora, restraining herself from glaring at her oppressor.

“Nothing sexual?”

“No, nothing.”

Sasha traced a finger along the Valora’s belly, half way between her navel and the top of her bikini. “Here?”

“No.”

“What about here?” asked Sasha as she pulled her finger along the top of Valora’s bikini, half of her finger on skin, the other half on top of the swimsuit.

Valora shivered. “No, not there either.”

“But it’s ticklish?”

“Just a little.” Both women knew that it was very ticklish.

When she reached Valora’s thigh, Sasha allowed her fingers to traverse to the bottom of the bikini and traced her finger along its edge.

Valora did her best to hold herself in check, but when the finger was half way to her buttock, she began to twitch uncontrollably.

Sasha smiled. “That had to be sexual.”

“No,” gasped Valora.

Sasha continued to move her finger lower. “Here?”

Valora was thrashing back and forth and half bouncing off her seat. “No!” she wheezed.

Sasha touched the indentation at the top of her prisoner's leg, the spot where she could easily side her finger under the bikini. “Here?”

Valora thrashed right, but managed a “No!” before her body was wrenched left.

Sasha removed her finger. “Not ticklish or not sexy?” she asked, her voice full of innocence.

“Neither!” Valora’s glare was malevolent.

Sasha smiled and pulled on the strings of Valora’s bikini, releasing the side closest to her. She slipped her fingers just underneath and stroked them in a circle.

Valora’s body twitched but she held her legs steady.

“Anything?”

“Nothing.”

Sasha shrugged, moved around to the other side of the Dominator and undid the remaining strings of Valora’s bikini bottom. She slowly lifted the top off and let it fall forward. Valora’s pubic hair was well trimmed, revealing delicate pink pussy lips nestled between the subtle rise of her vulva. Valora’s pubes were brown, almost black. Sasha was disappointed that the pubic hairs weren’t purple.

She danced her fingers up and down the insides of Valora’s thighs, provoking violent side-to-side thrashing, allowing intermittent, not to mention very pleasant, views up her captive’s sex. Then there was something warm between her thighs and Sasha was suddenly very aware of her own sex. She stepped forward and began to trace a circle around the edge of Valora’s vulva.

Valora continued to thrash as Sasha drew the circle tighter and tighter. Her fingers were drawing ever closer and closer to the center of her victim’s most private of private parts.

Suddenly Valora stopped thrashing. Her breaths were rapid and shallow.

“Not ticklish here?” asked Sasha, holding her fingers completely still.

“No.”

“Should I stop?” Sasha stared carefully at Valora’s sex. Her pussy lips were now more pronounced and they had turned slightly reddish.

Valora heaved a deep breath into her lungs.

Sasha traced her finger around Valora’s sex, keeping it exactly at the threshold between tickle and sexual arousal. “Should I stop?”

“Nooo,” conceded Valora. “Please.”

Sasha continued to circle her fingers, moving closer and closer to Valora’s pussy lips which were now subtly pulsing. Sasha felt a frisson skip across the surface of her own sex. Valora pressed her hips upwards towards Sasha and her pussy lips touched Sasha’s fingers. Sasha stopped moving.

“Don’t,” gasped Valora, “stop. Please.”

“Please?”

“Please don’t stop!”

Sasha stroked lightly up and down Valora’s pussy lips. “You’re sure?”

Valora nodded.

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Don’t stop,” gasped Valora. “Please don’t stop.” She pushed her hips forward and Sasha felt warm dampness slide up her fingertips.

Sasha moved around to the right side of the Dominator and stroked up and down Valora’s pussy the same way she stroked herself when she masturbated. Valora was hot and wet. Sasha’s finger slipped inside without effort. And in a moment, another finger followed.

Valora’s eyes were shut and she began to moan. Her pussy twitched, but this time not a tickle twitch.

Sasha legs pumped up and down, as if she was about to run on the spot, but it wasn’t running, she was trying to massage her own sex. She wanted to thrust her fingers under her panties but she knew that she needed to take urgent action or Valora would climax immediately. She poked the index finger of her left hand into Valora’s armpit.

Valora jerked away, trying to escape the finger in her armpit, but Sasha held it in place. Valora began to bounce up and down and Sasha had to concentrate to keep her right hand in position. Valora’s bouncing pulled Sasha’s fingers almost out of her pussy, then thrust them back in, firmly, urgently. But Valora’s climax retreated from the edge. The blue bikini bottom fell to the floor.

The dampness between Sasha’s own legs pleaded for release and she wished she was the one atop the Dominator. But it was Valora who was once again racing to orgasm. Sasha slid her left hand down to Valora’s breasts.

All it took was one brush up and down over Valora’s taut nipples and her pussy clenched tightly around Sasha’s fingers. A jolt from Sasha’s own nipples shot down to her sex.

“Shit!” screamed Valora. Her pussy spasmed around Sasha’s fingers over and over, totally out of control. “Fuck! Shit! Fuck!”

Sasha gently massaged up and down Valora’s sex until her breathing, their breathing, returned to normal. Then she began to unstrap the bindings which had held Valora in place on the dominator.

Valora smiled and opened her eyes. “So the tickle test was to see whether I’m ticklish, how ticklish I am. That’s what was recorded?”

Sasha completed undoing the straps on Valora’s left side and began to move around her back. “Yes.”

“And to see whether there was cross-over between my ticklish zones and my erogenous zones?”

“That too.” She freed Valora’s left arm. “And you passed with flying colors.”

“But doesn’t Tom want me to tickle as well as to be tickled?”

“I suppose.” Sasha undid the strap holding Valora’s left foot and helped her to stand up.

Valora stretched out her legs, then, still stark naked, stood facing Sasha. “So then I should tickle you.” She held her hand out towards the Dominator, indicating that Sasha should climb aboard.

“I don’t…”

But all Valora had to do was to tug gently on Sasha’s wrist and the blonde was climbing atop the bondage platform.

Sasha took a deep breath and extended her arms. Valora began to strap her in. First were her ankles, spreading her legs wide and revealing a small dark spot in the middle of her panties. In the middle of her black and purple and lace-lined panties.

It wasn’t until both straps on her right arm had been cinched into place that Sasha realized what a bad idea this was. She tried to wrench her left arm free. But Valora had two hands to one, and better leverage. Sasha’s remaining arm was swiftly strapped into place. Sasha accepted defeat and slumped back.

Valora circled her prey. “You’re probably ticklish in the same spots you targeted on me.”

Sasha shook her head. “Everyone’s unique.”

Valora lightly poked Sasha’s armpit. Sasha started and sat ramrod stiff upright. Valora ran her finger back along the blonde’s arm. Sasha giggled.

Valora lifted her finger off and placed her hands on her hips. “You didn’t like me when I first came into the office, did you?”

Sasha made a show of remaining silent until Valora’s finger began to return towards her armpit. “No. You’re competition. Tom thinks my performance is getting old.”

“Is it?”

Sasha shrugged.

“But this is the first time in a long while that you’ve had fun, isn’t it?”

“I suppose.”

“Maybe that’s what’s been missing from your… performances…” Valora gently caressed the underside of Sasha’s breasts. Sasha twitched, but it was the heat inside her nipples that was more concerning.

Valora stroked Sasha’s breasts back and forth, just as her own breasts had been stroked. Sasha’s twitching became more and more pronounced. The fingers touched her areolae. A moan escaped her lips. Then the fingers found her nipples and circled around them, rubbing them against the lace of her bra. Sasha stopped twitching.

Valora bent to whisper in Sasha’s ear, “The threshold between tickle and sex.” Sasha moaned again. Valora brought her fingers back out to the edge of Sasha’s areolae. “Which side of the threshold would you like me to stimulate.”

“No.”

“Your nipples?”

“No.”

“Your ribs?”

Valora administered sharp jabs on either side of Sasha’s torso.

“No!” screamed Sasha.

Valora traced her fingers down Sasha’s left side. Sasha watched the fingers descend, the way the hunted watch their hunter.

Valora looked at Sasha’s crotch and licked her lips. “You have a beautiful body.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“No?”

“No.”

Valora lightly ran her fingernail up and down the sole of Sasha’s foot. Sasha tried to jerk it away, but the strap held fast.

“Have you ever given a blow job?” asked Valora.

“Of course.”

“Like this?” Valora held her lips over Sasha’s big toe. Sasha tried to turn her foot away, but Valora held it securely between both hands. “Have you?”

Sasha stared back. Valora plunged the toe into her mouth.

“Bitch!” screamed Sasha.

“No? Maybe there’s something else you’d like me to suck?”

Valora moved up around Sasha’s right side and reached behind her shoulders. Before Sasha realized what the purple-haired monster was doing, her bra had been unclasped.

Valora moved her hands under the loosened brassiere and began to stroke the undersides of Sasha’s breasts. Her body twitched, but Sasha managed to keep her expression nonplussed. The hands moved back and forth, higher and higher. Sasha squirmed, trying to escape, no longer able to keep the grimace from her face. The fingers touched the bottom of her areolae and Sasha thrashed back and forth, straining at her bindings.

Then the finger reached the bottom of her nipples and stopped. Sasha’s body was motionless. Except for her breathing.

Valora smiled down at her victim. “You didn’t like me sucking your big toe, did you?”

“It was ticklish!”

“Isn’t that the point? Tickle abuse?”

Sasha stared into Valora’s eyes, refusing to answer.

Valora shrugged. “Maybe this will be better.”

Sasha, still intent on not answering, did not fathom Valora’s meaning until the purple hair had dipped to her chest. Only her eyes had time to react. By the time Valora’s mouth had enveloped her nipple, Sasha’s eyes were as wide as saucers.

“No!” she inhaled as the tongue circled her nipple, sending sparks across her chest. But Valora’s fingers gently petting her other nipple silenced Sasha’s protest. She shut her eyes and moved her consciousness towards the heavenly sensations being lavished upon the little buds atop her breasts.

Valora lifted her head. “Did you like that?”

Sasha nodded.

“Say it.”

“Yes. Yes, I liked that.”

“Do you want more.”

“Yes!”

Valora smiled and returned her lips to Sasha’s nipple.

Sasha smiled and once more descended into the heavenly darkness. But this time there was something more. Fingers were probing between her legs. Rubbing up and down the front of her panties, rubbing where it was warm and wet. Rubbing—

Sasha’s eyes shot open. “No!”

Valora’s fingers kept fondling Sasha’s sex. “But you like this too, don’t you?”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing. You love having your pussy played with, don’t you.”

Sasha’s hips thrusting up towards Valora’s hand was the most eloquent of eloquent answers.

Valora’s fingers found Sasha’s clit and gently, every so gently, tapped it. “Maybe we should remove your panties?”

Sasha’s face and chest were flushed a pretty pink and she could only manage short keening breaths. But she did manage to nod.

Valora quickly unstrapped Sasha’s ankles, pulled her panties off, then re-cinched the leather straps to once again spread the blonde’s legs wide.

Valora licked her lips and carefully inspected Sasha’s pussy.

“Don’t look at me like that!” protested Sasha.

Valora ignored her. Sasha’s pussy lips were engorged, a much darker pink that the surrounding pale skin. The only pubic hair was a short sliver just above her clit, only slightly darker than the hair atop her head.

Valora cocked her head to one side.

“Don’t look at me like that!” repeated Sasha.

“Would you rather I touched?” Valora stroked the long hood covering Sasha’s clit.

“Yes!” gasped Sasha, closing her eyes.

Valora slid two fingers in. After only a few strokes, she found Sasha’s g-spot. Three ‘come hither’ motions with her fingers had Sasha on the brink of orgasm. Beneath her, the blonde was moaning from deep inside her chest.

Valora bent down and kissed the soft skin just beneath Sasha’s belly button.

“Mmmmm,” moaned Sasha.

Valora kissed higher.

“Mmmmm.”

Valora kissed the belly button.

“Mmmmm.”

Valora flicked her tongue inside.

“Mmmmm.”

The tightness on her fingers told Valora that Sasha was beginning to relax into her orgasm. She took a deep breath, then established suction around Sasha’s belly button.

Sasha let a deep moan escape from her throat.

Valora exhaled right into Sasha’s belly button. A forceful slobbering raspberry. Sasha’s eyes flashed open. The tickle had snatched her orgasm out of her grasp. Just when it was about to hit! She heaved air into her lungs as Valora raised her head.

Sasha ignored the mocking look the purple-haired beauty was giving her. She had more immediate concerns. “Aren’t you going to?” Sasha angled her head towards her crotch, toward her sex which begged to be freed from the roiling whirlpool Valora had unleashed from within it.

Valora smiled and slowly shook her head. She reached down and tied her bikini bottom around her hips.

“Please!” begged Sasha.

Valora smiled again and tied the strap of her sparkly blue top tightly under her breasts.

“I’m almost there! Please!”

Valora released her right ankle.

“Bitch!”

Valora released her left ankle.

Sasha flailed her feet like a child having a temper tantrum. “Bitch!”

Valora strolled around behind Sasha, ignoring the evil stare being directed at her by Sasha’s rotating head.

“Bitch!” spat Sasha as Valora rounded back behind her.

Valora pulled Sasha’s hair back and placed her lips next to Sasha’s ear.

“Bitch!” screamed Sasha.

“Am I?” whispered Valora. “Or am I the woman who just showed you how to take your game to a whole new level?”

Sasha heaved air into her lungs as Valora released the straps which had held her arms in place. The purple-haired monster was right. Tickled, being tickled, had become a bore, an ever so dreary chore. But no more! She knew just what to tell Tom. That she, Sasha, was the one who should administer Valora’s first real tickling. And then, when the time was right, to let the purple monster strap her back in. Revenge and revenge. The videos would be the best. The best ever!

###

Sasha and Valora are real people but their acts, actions and attitudes in this story are the completely fictionalized results of my imagination. Tom is a real person. He is the founder of tickleabuse but I have never met him and his acts, actions and attitudes in this story are likewise complete fiction. Mark is my invention. There is a Tickle Test video on tickleabuse.com and I highly recommend it since it was the initial inspiration for this story.

This is one of the first tickling stories I published, so it's likely time to revisit it and determine what might be done to improve it, or more specifically to improve future tickling stories I might write. Please be as specific in your critique as you can.

I inserted an extra space between paragraphs before posting as not doing so seemed to run the paragraphs together. Hopefully it turns out right.