Nothing Nowhere F/f

From The Short Story Collection 'Tickle Tutor International'

By TickleMantis

F/f

‘NOTHING NOWHERE’​

Mackleroy always told them to take a horse when assigned the backcountry but none of his deputies listened, least of all Steph. Bad enough she’d needed to come all the way out to work some small town instead of staying in the city. Rural living had its perks, the marginally disgruntled deputy supposed as she rambled down a long stretch of dirt road, working the backcountry just wasn’t one of them. Hell maybe a horse would have been better, because the beat-up sheriff’s department Explorer was bumpier than a turtle’s back. There was never anything out here either way, waste of a day as far as Steph was concerned.

The problem with Sheriff Mackleroy was he still fancied himself a cowboy, still figured something interesting could happen out in the middle of nowhere. No one ever had the heart to tell the old man that the Wild West had never been half so wild as the movies made it out to be, and them that did have interesting times hardly enjoyed themselves in the moment. Nonetheless, Steph found herself as his deputy these past two years or so and that meant if he wanted her to go prowling around endless fields of dust and hills covered with dry grass then that was what she had to do. Didn’t have to like it though.

Cresting over yet another hill and one especially jarring bump, Steph let the creaking excuse for a police vehicle roll to a stop. Hazy blue mountains made for tiny peaks far out on the horizon, little more than a sea of sloping brown grass and a scattering of bony black trees between them. Slightly grey out, at least there was that, the severely bored deputy had learned quick that there was nothing worse than being out in the backcountry during summer. Slipping one hand onto the gear shaft, Steph let out a long sigh as she readied to press on, right until the tiniest hint of movement caught her eye. Smoke, gentle wisps of it lazily twirling up from behind a hill just a couple miles off.

“Better than nothing.” Steph said to herself and grind the gearbox, tearing up a great plume of dust behind the truck as she took off.

Probably just campers, or some lonely hermit. Out this far neither the radio stations nor the two-way got a signal, and though the idea of getting caught in conversation by someone who’s idea of fun was camping in a wasteland Steph figured it was still better than endless silence. Bouncing down the hillside, her bra doing little to stop her hefty bosoms doing their own bouncing under her uniform, the eager deputy started to imagine her most ideal encounter. Ridiculous though it was, a sexy co-ed or two might have been nice. Lost and scared, in need of help from a brave deputy and feeling ever-so-grateful for her arrival.

Crawling around a bend and off the track, Steph was busy wondering if there was a second pair of handcuffs in the truck when her fantasies were quickly dashed. A half-mile off stood a small structure, about the size of a shipping container. The smoke was coming from a campfire, her deputy’s intuition had been right on that one, but the rest was an unexpected disappointment. They’d cleared the grass, whoever they were, made themselves a nice round patch of reddish brown dirt and built a shack on the far right. Off to the left of the clearing was another tiny structure, the outhouse it looked like, and what looked like a small pup-tent nearer the back. Switching the engine off as she rolled to a stop, Steph surveyed the rest with a keen eye, not much to it beyond a long log by the fire for sitting and a tall steel tripod, the kind meant for hanging up cattle to be butchered.

“Hell.” Muttering as she slipped on her aviators, Steph pushed back her long brown hair and stepped out of the truck. At an unimposing 5’4ft and with a svelte figure the tanned officer had to hope whoever lived here would be sufficiently impressed by her uniform. Authority was hard enough to come by as it was even with the star on her ample chest, the tight black pants doing her no favors as they accentuated her well-rounded butt.

Nimbly unbuttoning the retention strap on her holster, the voluptuous deputy started off across the clearing, dusty ground crunching softly beneath her black boots. There was no sign of a vehicle, no sign of much at all beside the fire. Judging by the butchers tripod Steph had to wonder if this wasn’t hunters who’d decided to build themselves something more permanent. Completely illegal of course even out in those barren parts, though she wasn’t much of an expert on fish and game. Much more Mackleroy’s thing, he’d have loved to hassle some ornery rednecks, no doubt doing his best gravelly voice under that well practiced squint of his.

“Hello?” Steph called, moving closer to the shack. “Sheriff’s department. Anyone here? I see your fire’s still burning.”

If they’d gone for a walk they can’t have gone far, at least one of those fire logs looked barely charred. Approaching the shack, it’s door curiously open at the top of two shoddily built steps, Steph gingerly slid her gun free from the holster. With every step toward the shadowy doorway the idea of a scantily clad co-ed in need of rescue seemed less and less likely. More’s the pity, Steph thought, the first step squeaking under her boot. The second squeaked too, no surprises there, and the apprehensive deputy found a knot in her stomach that was tightening faster by the second. Slipping her glasses to the top of her head, the brave-faced and horridly nervous young woman moved through the doorframe. It would have been nice to feel half as tough as she hoped she looked, a fact Steph never would have admitted to Mackleroy or the other deputies.

“If anyone’s here, show yourself!” Barking words that at least sounded authoritative, the busty brunette swept around to her left, pistol clutched in both hands. A tall cabinet of imitation wood, the twin doors padlocked, nothing there but the bulk of the shack’s interior was behind her. Whipping back around in the dimly lit space, Steph took note of a long countertop, a mess of glassware and lab equipment scattered across the surface. “Tweakers.” She sneered through clenched teeth.

“Nope!” Came a woman’s slightly throaty voice from behind.

“Wha-“ With a jolt Steph went to turn and made it less than halfway around. Two long tattooed arms wrapped around the startled deputy from either side, her own arms forced into her sides as she was coiled up tight. “Get off!” She snapped, awkwardly trying to twist her gun back toward the attacker and failing miserably.

“Drop it!” Said the voice, the pair of them wrestling in the narrow space between a torn up old couch and the collection of beakers. Whoever it was had to be 6’ft at least, and double the deputy’s strength. “Drop the gun! You’re already in trouble don’t make it worse!”

“I’m a cop!” Steph winced, straining to push her arms out, point her gun somewhere useful and stomp on the mystery woman’s leather riding boots at the same time.

“You got a warrant, darlin’?” The tall woman shoved forward, both of them stumbling sideways and knocking the countertop, glassware tinkling away. “Hngh! Didn’t-unf-think so!” They struggled, the attacker’s weight forcing her smaller captive’s knees to buckle.

“Unh!” Steph grunted as she was made to kneel, bending forward with the towering attacker looming right up against her back. “Let me go!” She shook, sunglasses tumbling off her face.

“Gun first!”

“Not a-nff-chance!” Hunched over her knees with a death grip on her sidearm, there wasn’t a power in the universe that could have made Steph let go of her gun. Unless someone were to suddenly poke her in the ribs from either side while she was trapped in a steely bear hug, which as the deputy’s bad luck would have it is exactly what her attacker did. “Aiiee!” She squealed, her fingers springing open and pistol clattering down onto the uneven floorboards.

“There we go.” The woman said coolly, and reached down to backhand Steph’s gun spinning under the couch. With the attacker’s grip slightly loosened the deputy shook, grunting and struggling anew and finding even one arm wrapped around her was not easily thwarted. “Settle, settle. You need to behave yourself. Now, nice and calm, I need you to lay down on your stomach.”

“I’m a cop! You get me?” Steph yelled, curling her hands up and trying clumsily to scratch at the criminal’s arms. Before she could truly dig her nails in or accurately express how the full weight of the law was going to shatter her attacker’s life, the mad assailant dug her own nails right into the spot spots between Steph’s ribs. “Aha! Eeeiehee! Get off me! Eeeheehee! Stop it! Ahaha!”

Wriggling fitfully in a pitiful ball of ticklish anger, the disarmed deputy tried pulling her arms back to no avail. Sadly, Steph knew that trying not to laugh was out of the question and all she could hope for was that her immediate distress and red-hot fury was being accurately depicted by her harsh tone. In truth it was the attacker’s message that was being better received, as there wasn’t anything quite like being tickled to make the bold young lawwoman comply so fast. How she hated Mackleroy for sending her out here, how she hated the stupid endless backcountry, hated herself for being snuck up on. None of it compared to being tickled though, for that Steph reserved a special kind of venomous hate.

“Ticklish little one, aren’t ya?” The woman said, her fingers stopped wiggling but were poised for another assault. “Lay down now…”

“Y-you’re in big trouble.” Shuffling her legs back, the begrudging deputy let herself be lowered down to the floor. Feeling the woman’s weight press down on her, Steph just had to wait for the right moment. If there had been a right moment she’d missed it by a mile though, the second her cheek touched the ground the attacker loosened the bear hug and pulled both of the deputy’s arms back, all in one swift maneuver. “Agh!”

“Steady now, don’t fight me.” Said the raspy voice, one hand pressed down on the deputy’s crossed wrists. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Could have fooled me!” Steph growled, the nerves in her stomach twisting tighter when she felt fingers fiddling with her belt. “Seriously! Let me go now and I’ll do what I can for you!”

“So generous!” The woman had an unnerving hint of humor to her voice as she pulled Steph’s handcuffs jingling free.

A nightmare, that’s what this was. Tugging and pulling, kicking her legs, Steph grit her teeth and tried to turn over, all of it in vain from being expertly pinned down. Cold steel wrapped around one wrist with that familiar clicking sound, except this time it wasn’t the deputy doing the arresting. She let out a frustrated noise, something between a yell and a roar, her cuffed hand firmly chained to the other not two seconds later. The woman’s firm hands slid up Steph’s forearms and caught her under the elbows, and with what seemed like not much effort at all she was hauled backward and up to her feet.

“Deputy Armstrong!” Said the tattooed woman as she spun the handcuffed deputy around to face her, large hands gripped firmly over the top of Steph’s shoulders.

Lola Romito was her name and Steph recognized her immediately. Should have figured from the voice and tattoos but being attacked in the middle of nowhere was bound to muddle one’s mind, even a sheriff’s deputy. Lola was a regular around town, the seedier parts anyway, always hanging with the bikers or strutting through one local bar or another. 6’ft tall was about right, somewhere in her early forties Steph had to guess. Long hair spread down her back in a great blonde main and she wore nothing but black leather and big hoop earrings. Lola’s pants had to have been even tighter than the deputy’s own, her Amazonian legs looking like they were stitched in there. What really struck Steph, perhaps because they were right at eye level, was the older woman’s huge bust, a pair of pushed-up bosoms that were ballooned into bulbous cleavage by her leather halter top.

“You’re under arrest.” Steph said absurdly, trying her best to look the towering woman in the eyes and not the unreadable writing tattooed along the underside of her collarbone.

“Hahaha!” Lola threw her head back. “Ahh, that’s cute!”

“You’ve lost your mind if you think you’ll get away with this.”

“Yes, yes, I know, you’re a cop. One without a warrant. I didn’t know who you were, you came in unannounced-“

“That’s bullshit you-“ Steph interrupted and was talked over all the same.

“-a mad woman flailing a gun around, I had to defend myself. A horrible misunderstanding your honor, I assure you.”

“My word against yours, you twat.” The young deputy stared daggers as she spoke through clenched teeth.

“Uh-uh. Your word against my lawyer’s.” Lola slid her hands down the smaller woman’s arms and with one shockingly swift movement hoisted the handcuffed deputy up and over one shoulder. “And I have one hell of a lawyer!”

“Unf! You bitch! Put me down!” Slung upside down, long hair falling toward the floor, Steph kicked her legs and squirmed as the tall woman’s long arm curled tight around her hips.

“Tut tut, deputy! All this name calling!” Turning toward the door, the tattooed attacker seemed to have no problem keeping her captured intruder from worming away. “So unprofessional. No announcement, no warrant, and name calling? Your list of sins just keeps growing, doesn’t it?”

“You let me go now –right now- and I’ll forget this happened.” Steph craned her neck and gave a forlorn look to the couch where her gun lay somewhere underneath. A second later she was bouncing on the busty blonde’s shoulder as they made their way down the rickety steps to the world outside.

“First I want to tell you a little campfire story.” Lola trudged over to the long log by the fire. With just as much effort as it taken her to pick the deputy up, which was not much effort at all, she plonked Steph back onto her feet. “How’s that sound?”

Forced to stand on the opposite side of the log to the campfire, Steph didn’t answer. Holding her jaw tight, lips pursed, the defiant deputy refused to play anymore. This crazy biker chick, or whatever she was, she would pay all right but it wouldn’t involve courtrooms or lawyers. The more Lola grinned and swaggered and enjoyed herself the angrier Steph became. Some folk, most folk, might have panicked. Might have begged to be let go or offered money, but that stage was well passed. No, for all her anger it was all the svelte deputy could do not to smirk at the thought of how savage her vengeance would be once free.

“Ahh!” With a ridiculous squawk and a shove to her shoulders, Steph fell over the much stronger woman’s foot and was caught halfway to the ground. Lowered the rest of the way, humiliation swelling against her anger from the indignity of it all, the vengeful brunette came to a soft landing as she was placed onto the dusty dirt ground.

“Once upon a time…” Lola began as she turned away and stepped over the log.

Steph could have sprung up, tried to run, it might have worked but where would she go? She barely knew where she was to begin with and being lost in the backcountry was no one’s idea of a good time. Handcuffed and lost, and a woman twice her size in hot pursuit, there was no chance. Instead the defeated deputy huffed, wrinkling her nose and frowning hard as she watched Lola casually take a seat upon the log. The tall woman sat facing the slowly wilting fire, her back to Steph.

“…there was a cute little city chick named Stephanie Armstrong.” Turning as she continued her stupid story, the inked Amazon reached down and took a firm grip around both of the deputy’s ankles.

Tugging and kicking, Steph tried to crawl backward and was instead dragged a few inches through the dirt as Lola sat upright again. Coiling her left arm around the smaller woman’s ankles, the deputy’s boots ended up locked beside each other as they protruded out from under the leather-clad woman’s underarm. With her legs raised and hands cuffed behind her, Steph lay awkwardly shuffling and wincing on the ground behind Lola.

“When Deputy Armstrong came to town she met a boy.” The older woman said as she started plucking at the squirming younger woman’s bootlaces. “And soon thereafter she broke that boy’s heart.”

“Nff! What the- What are you-unf-doing?!” Steph rolled one way and then the other, pulling at her legs to no avail as she felt her right boot start to loosen around her foot.

“Now Deputy Armstrong loved having that little star on her chest.” Carrying on as if the struggling deputy wasn’t even there, Lola easily untied the first set of laces. “And she liked to strut all around town making sure everyone knew how tough she was. ‘Course, everyone knew she was just embarrassed because that broken hearted boy she hooked up with was a well known no-goodnik and they’d already been dating a while before she finally figured it out.”

“God damn you Lola, this isn’t funny!” The thought of having no boots, a criminal in possession of her feet and a fire was enough to make the suddenly fearful deputy start jerking violently.

“But you know what happened to that rebellious, broken hearted boy, Deputy?” Lola slid the right department-issue boot off and sent it flying with a flick of her free arm. “He started dating me.”

“More fool you then!” Steph gave another powerful tug of her legs and found she was doing little more than causing the bosomy blonde to rock back and forth a touch.

So Lola ended up with Roy and as far as Steph was concerned the pair deserved each other. For all his charm and bad-boy good looks, Roy Wenterlant was a bigger pain in the ass than anyone the young deputy had ever met, and that was saying something. There were some terrible boyfriends over the years, were there ever, but none took the cake quite so well as that prick. As her second boot was tossed away somewhere over toward the shack, Steph found herself wishing she’d taken Mackleroy up on his offer to drive Roy out into the backcountry. A good long drive, the sheriff told her back then, and he’d return solo and a couple bullets lighter.

“I know why you broke it off with him, by the way.” Lola pinched the tip of the deputy’s left cotton sock. “But unlike you I don’t have the luxury of just walking away.”

“What…what the fuck are you doing?!” Feeling her sock slowly start to slip off her tiny foot, the smaller woman’s voice turned a higher pitch as her stomach sank.

“Yeah, Roy got a taste for it with you alright.”

“Y-you can’t be serious!” Steph curled her toes in a desperate attempt to keep her sock on.

“He’s insatiable, you know?” Lola peeled the sock free and left the deputy’s newly bare foot to cower nervously behind it’s still-covered partner. “Doesn’t matter what I say, or do. I’m a riot in the sack, you know? Men would line up around the block to be with me, ask anyone.” She hooked a long nail under the rim of the remaining sock and started pulling it over the fitful woman’s heel. “But Roy ain’t interested. All Roy ever wants to do…” The second sock flew away and just like that both the captured cop’s feet were frighteningly exposed. “…is tickle me.”

“Th-that’s not my fault!” The bootless and bound deputy balked, the warmth of the fire on her soles suddenly much less of a concern. She recalled Roy’s maddening habit of tickling her, him and every other useless excuse for a man Steph had ever been with. It was always the same, fooling around until a rogue finger would poke in the wrong spot, she’d squeal and they’d get a little playful. More often than not a bit of playful teasing would turn to boyish cruelty and that would be the end of it. All it took was them finding out how agonizingly, hopelessly ticklish Steph was and none were so nasty about it as Roy goddamn Wenterlant. She might have felt sorry for the boisterous blonde if there wasn’t a vice-grip around her ankles.

“Mm, I kinda think it is.” Lola raised her free hand up over her shoulder so the handcuffed deputy could see, five fingers all curled into a claw shape that showed off her razor sharp nails.

“Lola! Ms Romito!” The cringing brunette made an attempt at sounding authoritative, her tone so high with dread that even she knew it sounded pathetic. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry he does that to you but…but I can help you! Just let me go and I’ll help you, I swear!”

“What are you going to do, arrest him?” A wry smirk grew across the one side of Lola’s lips that Steph could see, those five fingers starting to wiggle menacingly in the air.

“Yes! I’ll toss him in jail!” Steph curled her toes, crossing her bare feet over one another as any effort to maintain authority was quickly replaced by anxious horror. Her eyes wide, the squirming deputy watched as the blonde’s threatening fingers lowered slowly back down behind her shoulder. “I’ll throw away the key!”

“How very corrupt of you.” The Amazon’s head turned away, attention shifting to the pair of defenseless bare soles trapped between her breast and bicep.

“No! Lola! Don’t do it!” Panic gave the deputy’s voice a slightly shrill edge, the anticipation of those unseen nails touching her hypersensitive skin making her strain uselessly against the steel handcuffs. “Eeeiee!” A single nail swiped across one wrinkling sole, Steph’s shrill edge replaced by a helpless, girlish whine. “Ohgodno! Lola! Lola, please!”

“I say please to Roy almost every night.” The tattooed woman gave a halfhearted shrug before scurrying all five of her long nails around the deputy’s vulnerable soles. “It never helps.”

“Noho! Nohohoho! Aiieheehee! Ohgawahahad!” Steph squealed, kicking her knees madly as she rolled in the dirt. Covering one foot with the other helped nothing, the older woman’s long nails dancing freely across whatever hypersensitive stretch of skin got in their way.

From stone-faced officer of the law to giggling schoolgirl, all in a few quick finger-strokes. Roy had loved that about her, the way he could make Steph’s knees turn to jelly with a sneaky pinch to her sides. At the time she thought he was a mechanic, that’s what he’d told her anyway. Truth was, the closest Roy Wenterlant ever got to being a mechanic was hot-wiring other people’s cars without their permission. Turned out he had quite the rap sheet, but as far as Steph was concerned her ex’s biggest crime was tickling her half mad every other week. In hindsight it was obvious where Roy got his thrill, the career criminal reducing a naïve young deputy to a powerless mess of laughter. Now it seemed he was trying to recapture that sinister glory with at least one other woman, and it was Steph who was paying the price.

“Ahahaha! Aha! Lola! Ahaha!” Bouncing her shapely butt against the ground, the bare foot deputy tried launching her full weight to drag her legs free. “Eeeeheeeiee! Stop! Lolastopahaha!”

“Not having fun, sweetie?” Lola teased, her sharp nails moving swiftly across the younger woman’s silky smooth soles. “Mm, I guess not! Roy told me you were never too happy when he played with your feet!”

Outright miserable would have been a more apt description, just as she was now. Naturally, as was all too common with people who found fun in tickling Steph out of her mind, Roy would taunt her by saying all those big helpless grins plastered across her face must mean she’s happy. You’re laughing, you must be enjoying yourself. Never mind the fact her expression twisted wildly, brow furrowing at extreme inward angles, lips turning downward into pained displays of suffering, the wide smiles forced and very much no indication of joy. Steph made those same faces now, rolling handcuffed in the dirt, ankles locked in Lola’s arm so firmly they might as well have been cuffed together too.

As the deputy’s stretched cheeks turned a pinkish hue, the tattooed Amazon continued meting out her depraved form of justice. Speedy claws swept across the soft balls of Steph’s feet, scribbled down her high arches and shot pitilessly back and forth between her tender heels. Wide-eyed and unable to hold back her increasingly anguished laughter, the pleading captive’s caterpillar spasms were painting an erratic pattern in the dirt. Heaven help her, Steph would rather have taken a bullet. At least they made vests to stop bullets, against tickling there was no defense.

“Roy’s told me a lot about you, you know?” The belligerent biker chick raised her voice to try and be heard over the deputy’s squealing laughter, not that Steph was listening. “He likes to brag about his tickle-toy cop, all the spots he liked best and all the spots you hate most! Funny how they’re always the same places, don’t you think?”

Thinking about much of anything beyond escape and her own torment was a tall order at that particular moment. Lola’s fiendish fingers had been running freely around Steph’s alarmingly ticklish soles for almost two full minutes by that point and her ability for critical thought drained rapidly with every hellish stroke. Two minutes was far from the deputy’s horrifying personal record for having her feet tickled, but it never got easier. One might have expected or hoped that a person could get used to it. To some degree at least, find a way to cope better, to not laugh or beg so much, to stay still until the attacker grew bored, if that worked for anyone it surely didn’t for Steph. Every time she found herself under someone’s clawing hands it was no different, as shocked and as out of control as any other time.

“LOLA!” Steph screeched as the blonde’s nails dug directly under her tiny toes. “YEEEIIHAHA! NO! AHAHA!”

Had she been of a mind to think straight, it might have occurred to the howling brunette that being tickled by Lola was in fact a good bit different than her usual unwelcome invaders. Where Roy and his ilk often tended toward a kind of brutishness in their approach, all hard squeezing and forceful fingertips pawing at her flesh, the tattooed Amazon’s touch was considerably more restrained. Unfortunately that restraint didn’t make Steph’s suffering any less palpable, the feathery light caress of the blonde’s nails causing an especially maddening effect. As her face turned a darker shade of pink and time dragged on, three minutes under Lola’s skillful talons for the deputy was starting to feel eerily like ten minutes under anyone else.

“I know, I know, I can’t stand this either.” Lola pouted with mock sympathy, four of her nails playing the trapped woman’s toes like piano keys while her thumb wiggled mercilessly in the middle of her creamy soft sole. “Sometimes Roy uses a toothbrush, he ever do that with you? Sticks it right between my toes, I swear I almost jump out of my skin every time!”

“STOOOP! STAHAHAHAAA!” Screaming laughter and arching her back, the bare foot deputy didn’t hear a word. Dusty streaks decorated her dark locks, hair flailing every which way as she rolled violently about. Both the back and sides of Steph’s uniform were caked in the rusty dirt, no laughing matter except for the storm of squealing cackles pouring unstoppably from her lips. “LOLAHAHAHA! EEEIIE! NOMORE! AHAHA!”

“He has an electric one too.” The older woman carried on as if there wasn’t a sheriff’s deputy pleading for dear life right behind her. “Likes to stick that all kinds of places. You think being handcuffed is bad? I think Roy got more creative after you dumped him, the stuff he does to me, it’s unreal and not in a fun way.” Lola glanced back over her shoulder to see the red-faced deputy bucking up and down. “Although I have to admit, now that I’m on the other side of it I’m starting to see the appeal!”

“AHAHAHA! NONO! YOU G-AHAHA!” Steph shrieked each word, every ounce of dwindling will power used to stop anything coherent from turning into helpless laughter. “YOUGOTTASTOP! AHAHAHA! NEEEIHEEEIII!”

Evidently Lola disagreed, her cruel fingernails scribbling suddenly up and down the length of her prisoner’s petit bare soles. Though she only used five fingers it felt like the blonde’s tickling touch was everywhere, nails sneaking around to the tops of Steph’s feet and racing madly along underneath her toes. Before the hapless deputy could register Lola’s claws running amok in one place they were already causing chaos somewhere else. A series of quick pinches down the side of her left foot sent the helpless young woman squealing, those squeals changing instantly to breathless belly laughter at a slow, sinister raking down her sole.

In a devastating twist, Lola was already proving herself to be an exceptionally more effective tickler than anyone else Steph had encountered. Maybe it was her technique, or perhaps simply that she was a woman too. There weren’t a lot of women who’d tried to tickle Steph over the years and those few that did never seemed to go far. A quick poke or little tease, nothing like the four nightmarish minutes Lola was subjecting her to. The leggy blonde had a bigger sadistic streak than almost any man the deputy could remember, not giving so much as a couple seconds to let her breath. Having admitted to being quite ticklish herself one might have liked to think Lola would have some empathy, instead it seemed her own experiences as an unwilling plaything only served to make her better at being the one doing the playing.

“Deputy!” Lola gave a pretend scoff, finally taking her nails away from the gasping brunette’s intimately explored soles. “Don’t you have some rule about keeping your uniform clean?”

Gasping with much sought after relief and a need to fill her hard working lungs, Steph couldn’t have cared less about the state of her uniform. As it was the back and sides were in something of a state, her hair too for that matter. Far more concerning were her helpless bare feet, both still held firmly in the crook of Lola’s arm. If Roy had taught Steph anything it was to never trust a pause in the torment until she was well and truly free, a lesson his current busty sidepiece surely learned from him too. Bad enough there were those who took delight in tickling other people to pieces, playing mind games on top of that was insult to injury and then some.

“L…let me go…” Steph panted and gave a wincing tug at her legs. “We…we should work together…” She stopped to blow a long strand of hair out of her face. “Roy…he’s the real problem!”

The tattooed terror clicked her tongue. “No argument here, darlin’!” She said and grabbed the deputy’s ankles in each hand as she started to stand up off the log. “But like I said before, I ain’t no cop, I can’t just leave a man like Roy.” Stepping over to Steph’s side, the tall woman kept that surprisingly firm grip clamped around the struggling captive’s ankles. “When I go back home he’ll probably be there, and you just know he’s gonna wanna tickle the shit out of me as soon as I walk in the door. Lola turned her back toward the shack and twisted Steph around as she did.

“Ah! It doesn’t have to be that way!” Dragged unceremoniously through the dust by her ankles, the grunting deputy jerked and shifted to no avail.

“Until I find a bigger fish than Roy or he gets bored of me, I’m stuck with the bastard.” Lola trudged backwards, drawing a winding trail in the dirt as she pulled the squirming younger woman toward the butcher’s tripod. “Lucky for me the next time he gets handsy, I’ll have the sweet memory of you to console me.”

“Listen to me! Listen!” Steph growled as they came to a stop under the three metal rods that joined together overhead. Clearly it was the demented woman’s intent to continue her sordid assault as she curled one arm around the deputy’s ankles again. With her free hand Lola began unbuckling her belt, a pointless accessory given how tight those pants were. Curled at the stomach, legs held almost vertically above her, Steph lay awkwardly on her upper back. “I swear to god, you don’t want to do this! I’m serious! If you stop now I promise you, I’ll do everything I can to help you!”

“Mm hmm.” Lola’s humming dripped with sarcasm as she went about winding her belt around the pleading deputy’s ankles.

“Lola, PLEASE!” Steph stressed as she felt her ankles bind together. Reaching up with her free hand, the older woman took hold of a thick metal hook at the top of the tripod, its chain clinking as she pulled it downward. “There are people, dangerous people! Worse than Roy, worse than anyone in town, even Mackleroy’s afraid of them!”

She shouldn’t have said anything, Steph knew better than to talk about the kind of people even her hard-ass boss only spoke of in whispers. The people who bought her to the county, her and Mackleroy and the other deputies too. Terrifying folk with untold power who let the local government and the bikers think they ran the county, when in reality both groups were only allowed to operate under the whims of those who actually ran the show. Steph didn’t know much about them in truth, but what little she had learned was frightening enough not to repeat it, usually. Watching her ankles be hung onto a butcher’s hook with the threat of more ungodly tickling had a way of loosening the deputy’s lips.

“Well, I know some pretty dangerous people myself.” Lola took a step back and put her hands on her hips. Looking rather pleased with herself, she’d hooked her tightly bound belt over the hook so it curved up between the tops of the deputy’s trapped feet. From the hips down Steph’s body was pulled straight up, her top half laying flat on the ground.

“Not like these people, not like them!” Steph made her voice all breathy and bugged her eyes out as best she could, one last desperate attempt to convey how deathly serious she was. “They’re worse than anyone you know! Worse than anyone you can imagine! If you do this to me-“

“Cootchy cootchy coo!” With a singsong tone and definitely not appreciating the seriousness of her actions, the bosomy Amazon started dancing all ten of her long nails around both the bound deputy’s horribly ticklish soles.

“EEIIEE! NAHA! NAHA! NOHO! AHAHA!” Flopping like a fish out of water, the helpless younger woman burst with maddened laughter.

Even then in the throws of hyperticklish anguish a tiny, impossibly miniscule part of Steph felt some barely perceptible sense of pity for Lola. Grinning like a big dumb idiot, finally happy to be the one not begging for mercy just because some buffoon decided to tickle her silly. Criminal or not, even a lowlife like Lola didn’t deserve to be stuck with a sadistic piece of crap like Roy Wenterlant. Of course it wasn’t Roy’s wiggling fingers and nylon ropes that had Steph feeling sorry for the long legged blonde, it was what would happen next. What the people behind Mackleroy would do once they found out one of their minions had been subjected to such depraved humiliation without their say so. Once those people got their hands on Lola the poor woman would think life with Roy had been a paradise. Steph could have made more effort to warn her, but for that one molecule of pity she felt there were a billion more that wanted revenge.

Ten fingers on Steph’s bare soles made for an unbearable riot of ticklishness. There could be no preparing for it, no bracing for the agony of all those long nails racing across her tissue-soft skin. There was naught to be said once it started, even the most sorrowful sounding pleas couldn’t break through the deputy’s raging, cackling laughter. Her feet wriggled helplessly, the cold steel of the butcher’s hook stuck between them and making it almost impossible to cover one another. Strung up as she was, even all the hectic rolling, bucking and desperate struggling was a monumental chore. Not a lick of Steph’s flailing movements helped in any fashion from stopping Lola’s nails frolicking freely around every inch of her vulnerable little feet.

“Ohh you know what?” Lola kept her fingers dancing as she spoke, the howling younger woman not hearing a word of it. “Maybe I should bring Roy out here! A romantic reunion, how about it? I’m sure he’d love to get his hands on you again.” It was a good thing Steph was too beside herself with laughter to listen, the older woman’s sadistic teasing would have only made a horrendous situation even worse, if it were possible. “Or maybe we should run away together, leave Roy in the dust? Me and you go live in the mountains somewhere, then I could tickle you silly all day everyday!”

“IEEEEHAHAHA!” Steph wailed as the blonde’s nimble fingers fluttered along the undersides of her toes. Tears were starting to prickle at her eyelids, another cruel reminder of how the simple act of tickling could weaken the bare foot woman’s usual steely resolve.

Powerlessness had always come hand in hand with being tickled for Steph, a fact she hated almost as much as she hate being tickled. Unless she was the one doing the tickling. Being on the other side of it held all the power, a fact Steph learned young. Such a devout girl, always at church Sundays in her best dress. Always secretly sneaking peeks at the other young ladies. Always wanting to get her hands on them without fear of being seen as strange, but good church going girls don’t wrestle so what was she to do? Tickle tickle tickle of course, friendly and innocent in the eyes of god, and god how she loved it to a sinful degree. There was no sin in it so far as her friends could see, groping and squeezing her them and driving them silly in the pews or behind the church while everyone else shuffled out front. What fun she’d had, at least until the boys worked out her trick.

By her eighteenth birthday the devilish girl had it down to a science. Rotating through her friends on a weekly basis so none of them got tickled too frequently. They were all sufficiently terrified of Steph and humiliated by what she’d do to them, the perfect combination to make certain none of them would talk. Especially Mary Beth with the curly red locks who cried almost every time, watching her sob and laugh in unison made Steph soaking wet betwixt her thighs. By then she didn’t much care about the sin or what god thought particularly, the amorous teen’s thoughts leaning less toward piousness and more toward evermore lewd ideas. No more of this over-the-clothes business, no more sneaky pinching in the pews or goosing Mary Beth’s sides under the oak tree out back. Steph was going to find somewhere quiet and out of the way, somewhere she could strap Mary Beth down and have her wicked way with the watery-eyed redhead. Or so was the plan.

How the boys found out exactly, Steph never did find out. Maybe one of the girls told a brother or one of the lads just happened to be more observant than most. Whatever it was the little gang of virgins had conspired and planned and realized then what Steph had realized quite some time before; You could put your hands all over someone and act like it was play time as long as they laughed. Five of them set upon her that day after youth group, too busy stacking chairs or thinking about her next tickle attack to notice she was the only girl in the room and the next tickle attack would be on her. She’d squeaked playfully when they’d squeezed her sides and squealed when someone grabbed a knee, but it didn’t stay playful for long. Within seconds Steph was on that glossy wooden floor, five well dressed young men crowding around her and their ten collective hands and fifty collective fingers all poking and grabbing and digging at her.

Steph had never been so terrified before or since, at least until Lola grabbed her from behind. By the time the boys were done every one of them had boners and their conquest was a wheezing mess. Dress wrinkled and raised up her stocking-clad thighs, shoes tossed in opposite directions and what had been immaculately straight hair looked more akin to a bird nest. Whilst the boys all hobbled awkwardly out of the gym, the then teenage Stephanie Armstrong lay gasping, all that power she had been so proud to wield gone in a few nightmarish minutes. Gone because of a few dumb boys, and what was a 5’4ft young lady to do against being manhandled? Steph’s answer came a just a few months later, when she signed up for training to be an officer of the law.

“Getting a little hot there, are we?” Lola took a step back, her busty captive’s beet red face trickling with a few beads of sweat. With a couple of quick steps the older woman came to stand just above the panting deputy’s head. “Mackleroy’ll need to give you a raise after all this hard work!” She said and leaned over, snagged her hands into the buttoned-up middle of Steph’s shirt and yanked each side in the opposite direction. With one quick move buttons were sent flying and the deputy’s tanned, hourglass midriff and black bra were exposed.

“Y-you’ll pay for this!” Steph snapped between deep breaths. “You have no idea!” Her words came out in a high-pitched squawk as the Amazon’s thumbs hooked under the top of her bra and forcefully tugged it down. “Ah!” The blushing brunette yelped as her big boobs wobbled out into the open. “You’re so fucked!”

“You sure have an interesting take on reality, deputy.” The grinning blonde said as she strolled back toward the shack. “Tied up half naked in the middle of nowhere and I’m the one who’s fucked?”

As Lola made her way inside Steph started struggling. Trying to kick her bound legs up and over the hook, bouncing on the ground and her bare tits jiggling as she did. What a state to be in, worse certainly than the ordeal with the youth group boys and that was a harrowing business. If she could just get her feet up over the hook, undo the belt with her cuffed hands and then at least her legs would be free. Running wasn’t much of an option, Lola would catch her in a second, but maybe she could lock herself in the Explorer. There had to be another handcuff key in there and if Steph could get her hands on that she’d be away. Away to find Roy and get his ass kicked, then come back in force and see to it Lola regretted ever thinking she could get the better of a sheriff’s deputy in this county. Or so was the plan.

“Oh sweetie, no…” Lola came down the creaky steps, an old bucket sloshing heavy in both hands. “You need to save your energy, our fun’s not over yet!”

“Every second you keep me here is another hour you’ll suffer! Another day!”

“Yes, yes, I know. The dangerous people, so scary.”

Steph shook her head and smiled, a little of her fire coming back now that she wasn’t in the throws of ticklish hell. “I wish you knew. I wish you could see it, you’d never put a finger on me. You’d run a thousand miles!”

“Don’t worry, no more fingers.” Lola put her bucket down. A few foamy white bubbles dribbled over the side as she reached in and pulled out a handheld scrubbing brush. “For now.”

“No, no! Lola!” The sight of all those countless black bristles dripping with suds put Steph’s fire out almost as soon as it had started. “Don’t you dare!”

“Nonsense! I have to keep you clean.” Standing side-on to the deputy’s raised legs, the tall blonde wrapped one arm around her calves, other hand holding the bubbly brush. “If you’re going to be my little tickle-pet I have to take care of you!”

“Lola please I’ll do whatever you want jus-“ Steph couldn’t finish her desperate bargaining, it never worked with Roy and it didn’t work now. Instead those million wet bristles raked down her right sole and the topless deputy flew into a ticklish frenzy. “TAAAAIIEEE! NAHAHAHA!”

“Scrubby scrub scrub, that’s it!” Lola sang, holding the younger woman’s legs steady as she brushed wildly at her helpless foot.

Eased across her delicate skin by the warm and bubbly water, every frond caressed speedily over the small curves and flexing wrinkles of the deputy’s sole. Almost every inch of Steph’s excruciatingly ticklish foot could be covered at once, the brush sweeping quickly up and down to get any spot it might have missed a split second before. With each upward motion the half naked woman screamed as hundreds of vibrating bristles invaded under and between her tiny toes, curling them inward in a fruitless effort to defend herself. Downward strokes faired no better as the soapy brush scrubbed over her tender heels, Steph’s toes spreading wide as she shrieked.

“I haven’t forgotten about you!” The older woman grabbed hold of Steph’s left foot with her free hand and set about her cruel cleaning of the hypersensitive underside.

“AAAHAHAHA! IEEEIIHAHAH! Steph cackled madly while her big bouncing breasts glistened from a light sheen of sweat. Her slender midriff had a glossy look too, heaving as she rolled and bucked and roared with unstoppable laughter.

Lola switched back to the right foot, already terribly tender from it’s first round of hellish brushing. Pinkened bubble soaked skin was viciously scoured, the bound brunette lost to a state of ticklish hysterics. Tragically, whatever miniscule relief the left foot found lasted about two seconds as the tattooed attacker’s free hand started sliding all five long nails around the soap-slicked skin. Between the two warring techniques Steph’s mind became a scramble of tortured thoughts, the sharp claws and innumerable brush strokes combining into a mixture of chaos even she would never have imagined possible. Memories of her extensive experiences flashed through the deputy’s broken consciousness, savage times with Roy, her youth group debacle, some of the more positive thoughts popped up too but they were of no help. Remembering being the one in power, being the one doing the tickling, Steph now couldn’t stop herself from imagining herself on the receiving end, a puddle of giggles unable to stop unwelcome hands.

“Mm, so clean!” Lola stretched back and admired the pair of dripping feet, small streams of foam still lazily wandering down the soles and making the breathless deputy squirm. “Y’know, you could almost eat off these…” She said with an unnerving look in her eye and tossed the brush-turned-torment-device into the bucket with a splash. “In fact…”

“Lola…!” Teary eyed and on the verge of outright sobbing, the trapped deputy croaked between gasps. “N-n-n-“ She couldn’t finish, whether from breathing too hard or simply from fear, no words escaped the helpless young woman as she watched the Amazon’s hands curl around the tops of her well polished feet.

“Num num!” The tattooed witch drew her face in close to the deputy’s exposed soles. Just before the blonde’s lips made contact a thick tear ran down the side of Steph’s horrified face.

“EIIHEE! IEEHEE! EEEEHEEHEENOOO!” Arching her back hard, the spasming younger woman screeched.

Plump lips kissed maddeningly against her hopelessly ticklish sole, the tip of Lola’s long wet tongue not far behind. Moving up over the balls of Steph’s right foot, the cruel older woman nipped gently at the painfully soft flesh, lips still nuzzling all around. The deputy’s tears were running in a nonstop stream as the long legged woman gnawed further up her foot, teeth gently raking against silky skin. Opening her mouth into a gaping maw, Lola maneuvered five of the howling woman’s toes into a defenseless bunch and took them whole between her lips. Trapped in the dark of her tormenter’s mouth, Steph’s severely sensitive toes could barely even wriggle as that flickering tongue snaked all over them, licking underneath and along the very tips.

While one foot was being ravenously consumed it was all too evident Lola wasn’t content giving her prisoner only one reason to wail. As the manic deputy thrashed, five of her attacker’s fingers let go the top of the other foot and raced viciously around to the bottom. Long nails danced freely up and down Steph’s furiously wriggling sole, it’s partner being greedily devoured just an inch away. Heart pounding like a jackhammer, it was a wonder the crazed deputy could breathe she was laughing so hard. Through tear-blurred vision Steph caught a glimpse of the older woman’s eyes, wide with glee as they looked down upon the half naked captive bucking like a trapped animal.

“Yum yum!” Lola licked her lips.

Steph wheezed loudly, gasping for air but there was barely enough time to stop laughing before the leggy blonde was making a meal of the other foot. Flying into a mindless delirium there were few thoughts in the void of hyperticklishness, and those that did claw through were nothing pleasant. All but entirely lost to the depths of her most unbearable sensitivity, bad memories and looming threats collided in Steph’s mind. Panicked shards flashed by, torn away a microsecond later by the ticklish chaos. The fifty fingers of her youth group, Roy’s short beard in the nape of her neck, Roy’s large hands clawing at her ribs. She remembered then, a couple of other young men at the academy. Boisterous lads determined to get their guns and badges. How she’d outshined them on the obstacle course and again in the classroom. How they’d come for her later, found her alone in the dormitory, found quickly how best to make her suffer.

The memory of her feet held by those two young recruits stayed longer than most, played again and again as Lola’s tongue worked it’s dark magic. Those last couple of weeks they’d got Steph alone every chance they could after that. So frequent were their attacks she’d only just scraped through the academy despite previously having been top of the class. The whole point of entering law enforcement was to be tougher, to be respected, feared even. Steph came out the other side feeling no less powerful than when she’d gone in, a cop terrified of being tickled.

“I could just snack on you all day!” Lola leaned back and ran all ten nails scrambling over the frenzied deputy’s soles. Piercing laugher tore from the red-faced brunette, her tiny toes spreading wide.

For a while Steph thought her fear was gone, defeated after doing her time as a rookie. On the beat, patrolling city streets, finally no one dared try their luck with her. She’d grown confident, done well, made solid arrests and excelled in the eyes of her captain. With so much faith it her it was no trouble for Steph to start drumming up reasons to arrest buxom young women. Short staffed as the department was solo patrols were the norm, especially on the quieter nights. Taking the cruiser near the local college, co-eds walking home after late night studies. Didn’t matter if they’d done anything, they usually hadn’t, Steph would cuff them regardless and put them in her patrol car.

Word must have got out eventually. It was youth group all over again, a rumor in the right ear. Too outlandish to believe yet just crazy enough for people get curious, tales of a lady cop who drove young women out to secluded parking lots. Steph would climb in the back with them, all those studious girls handcuffed and afraid. It’s going to be okay, she’d tell them, you won’t go to jail, but you do need to be punished. Punished for whatever perceived crime Steph imagined. How the people behind Mackleroy found out about her late night activities was anyone’s guess, their timing impeccable. Steph’s captain was getting suspicious and more than one of her fellow officers had given her the side-eye.

She’d no desire to live in the boonies, honestly, and as Lola’s terrifying talons scribbled over the deputy’s tender heels she felt that disdain for small town living to be well justified. Seemed like a good idea at the time, life as a city cop was going to end one way or another. In the country there was plenty of space to pull the car over, even during the day. Plenty of quiet and, the real selling point, her new boss and fellow deputies were all like-minded souls. All recruited by the shadowy folk who kept Mackleroy on his leash, such as it was. It wasn’t altogether bad most of the time, though anyone would have had a hard time making a case for it in that particular moment.

That particular moment had Steph screeching like a banshee as Lola’s nails skated down her arches and twirled around her soft heels. Seizing like ten thousand volts were running through her, the deputy’s violent convulsions bounced her body wildly. Kicking up clouds as she rolled madly, the sides of Steph’s bulbous, sweaty boobs were covered in a light coating of dust. Haunted by old memories and destroyed by her present, the flailing prisoner could do nothing but drown in her own terrible ticklishness.

“My goodness, look at me!” Lola crouched down on her haunches. “I’m getting so carried away with my lunch I almost forgot about dessert!” Reaching around her captive’s stretched thighs, the tattooed hellion started fiddling with Steph’s belt buckle.

Blubbering nonsense, Steph herself was not sure if the sounds coming out of her were even trying to sound like real words. The half dangling deputy barely had the presence of mind to notice her belt was being flung open, nor that Lola’s nimble fingers were unbuttoning the top of her pants. Writhing weakly in the dirt, Steph’s bottom lip trembled as her fly was unzipped and her leggy blonde tormentor began tugging the brunette’s uniform trousers down over her shapely ass. Within seconds the deputy’s pants were bunched up around her knees, leaving nothing but a pair of hot-pink g-string panties in their place.

“My my deputy!” Lola beamed, her captive’s spectacularly round butt cheeks hovering just above the ground. “Are those standard issue? Don’t tell me old Mackleroy wears these too!” She laughed and dropped to her knees, kneeling with the backs of Steph’s half covered legs towering over her. Leaning back, Lola intertwined her fingers and stretched her hands out as if readying for some laborious task.

“N…no…” Steph whined, weakly shuffling in the dust.

“So nice of you to show your ass for me!” The older woman held her hands out to either side and started wiggling her slender fingers.

“…don’t…” Was all the breathless younger woman could croak out before the blonde’s fingernails danced playfully around the peach-shaped sides of her vulnerable butt cheeks. “Eeiiee! Ohno! EEEEEiieheehee! Ohmygod! Aiiieeheee!”

As the deputy’s vulnerable cheeks flexed and jiggled, her naked breasts were doing their own erratic bouncing. Arching her back and straining to throw herself away, Steph squealed with high pitch laughter as Lola’s lethal claws sped into the center of her ass and ran wild down to her tailbone. Rolling left, rolling right, the helplessly ticklish deputy’s abdomen convulsed with both laughter and her desperate efforts for freedom. Nails scrambled into the deep dimples of Steph’s hypersensitive cheeks as they clamped hard around the g-string, scribbled upward and raced around the back of her tanned thighs.

Across the deputy’s bright red face was an expression equal parts anguish and broadly grinning lunacy. With her tongue half out of a wide-open mouth smile like some twisted clown, Steph’s eyes stayed wide as her brows shifted from sky high to deeply frowning misery. As those cruel claws scurried their way back down the cackling woman’s quaking thighs and onto her desperately ticklish butt, her back arched hard and she let out a voice-cracking howl.

“Roy never told me what a ticklish ass you have!” Lola said gleefully, her fingers running along the squishy crease where Steph’s butt met her thighs. “But then maybe he never thought to tickle you here, hmm?”

“Eeeieheee! Lolaaaheeieehee!” Was all the deputy could respond, her laughter a fitful mess of squeals, yelps and strained pleading.

“One thing I should be thankful for, I guess.” The busty blonde continued as if the conversation wasn’t entirely one sided, her long nails raking down the full length of her captive’s curvaceous rear end. “For all Roy’s tricks with toothbrushes and the like, he does tend to stick to the more…obvious spots.” Lola wiggled her fingertips down, around the struggling cop’s bouncing hips and squeezed viciously at her heaving sides. “Like here!”

“NOHO! AAhahaha! Nohonohoahahahaha!” Steph bucked, her long hair a chaotic, flying mess as the tender flesh just above her hips was subjected to rapid pinching.

“Ohh my tickly little deputy!” Lola pressed herself up against the back of Steph’s legs and peered around. “All the tickles for you darlin’!” She teased, lobster clawing her hands up to the bottom of her prisoner’s soft ribcage.

“Aaaahaha! Aaahhahaha!” Curling forward until her big bare breasts squished over top of the blonde’s hands, Steph stared a look of pure agony directly eye to eye with Lola. In the brief second of eye contact the spasming deputy’s rage-filled glare received only a giddy look of boisterous teasing in return.

“Oh darn, the sun’s coming out!” The merciless Amazon said, looking up to the parting clouds as her ten talons scribbled all over the deputy’s abdomen. “Can’t have you catching the sun in your state, can we?”

With a departing flutter of fingers across Steph’s butt, Lola shifted herself back to standing. Taking both hands she easily lifted the scantily clad brunette’s bound feet from the butcher’s hook and let them drop with a clumsy thud. Gasping for air and with great effort indeed, Steph rolled onto one side as the ground dusted her bare feet and vulnerable ass. Feeling Lola’s shadow loom over her, the bound young woman started to thrust, even in her weary, breathless state she was trying like all hell to shuffle away.

“You’d think I’d remember sunscreen, but no.” Lola paid no mind to her captive’s fruitless attempt at escape as she bent down on one knee and scooped both hands under the teary eyed deputy. With a hearty grunt the taller woman rolled Steph toward her, up off the ground and into her arms like a newly married bridge. A disheveled, sweat glistened, tickle tortured bride.

“P-put me down!” Steph stammered sounding very far away from anything remotely commanding. Before she could make any concentrated effort to spring free, Lola hefted them both upward. Cradled in the criminal’s arms, the half naked brunette took a sharp breath to ready her next order but it was swiftly pushed out of her. In one quick movement, Lola practically tossed Steph over her head, landing the handcuffed deputy over her broad shoulders.

“Don’t worry-“ Lola curled one tattooed arm around the back of the struggling woman’s knees and reached the other arm up behind her bound arms, all which left Steph firmly held with her tummy bent around the back of the blonde’s head. “-We can go in my tent.” The older woman started plodding toward the pup-tent on the far side of the clearing, the half-stripped authority figure squirming weakly in her arms.

“I’ll-I’ll forget the whole thing!” Steph wriggled in dismay, going nowhere fast as she watched the small tent grow closer with every meandering step. “Just let me go! I won’t tell anyone! No one! I swear!”

“Oh, you know what I just remembered is in my tent?” Lola turned her head to shine a toothy grin back at her begging prisoner. “My toothbrush!”

Absolutely fantastic!