ticklefanatic15
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This is the second Ashley Grable story! If you haven't read the first one, you can do so here:
The Janitor's Closet: introducing Ashley Grable (M/f, sexual, noncon)
Ashley woke to the morning sun streaming through her blinds. The disheveled blonde sat up, blinking in confusion and staring down at the jeans and tank top she had fallen asleep in, until the previous day's events came crashing back into her mind. She shuddered at the memories of cruel hands exploring her small, curvy body while her mouth strained with laughter and she could see nothing but blue and pink stripes. She took a few deep breaths, her large breasts slowly rising and falling in rhythm. Once she had gotten herself together, she knew just what to do to comfort herself. Rising off the soft blue comforter of her queen size bed, she stripped off her day-old clothes and stepped into her closet, reemerging a moment later in black spandex shorts and a matching sports bra, her trusty pink yoga mat rolled up under one arm.
The pale, freckled beauty went through a short stretching routine - short by her standards at least. The next half-hour rolled by unnoticed as she moved through her poses and meditations, ending down in a split, her smooth legs extending straight out to the sides while her arms stretched upwards, flat stomach tensing with the effort of keeping her torso upright. As always, she capped off the workout by envisioning the day when she'd have her own yoga studio: a small, tidy place, full of people working towards inner peace and outer fitness under her attentive gaze. The familiarity and ease of it left her feeling a bit more put-together, so long as she didn't think back to Pedley's cruel attentions.
A glance at the clock told Ashley she still had time to get ready for church, but the gorgeous young woman felt she needed a day to relax, and suddenly recalled that yesterday she had fallen asleep without showering. She quickly rectified the issue, taking a few minutes to just enjoy the warm water cascading over her freckle-dusted shoulders, trailing down across her curvaceous frame. Once she was clean and dry again, she rubbed lotion onto every inch of her smooth, sensitive skin, before slipping into comfy underwear and fluffy sky-blue pajamas, buttoning the top all the way up. Feeling much more at ease, Ashley moved out into her well-furnished living room, grabbed the romance novel she'd been reading recently, and plopped down onto the couch. Unfortunately, she found herself unable to concentrate on her book, as a single thought continually forced its way into her mind: what if Pedley went after someone else? The golden-haired office worker was sure she could deal with whatever the demented janitor had in store for her, no matter what he did with the photos he'd taken, but the thought of doing nothing while he went after someone else, of enabling his depravity, was unacceptable.
Eventually, Ashley put the book down, grabbed her phone, and called the police. She described the incident the day prior: being locked in the closet, tied up, stripped, and kept there until she agreed to fuck her captor, but leaving out the tickling - it was an embarrassing detail, and if the story made it onto the nightly news, the last thing she wanted the whole town knowing was that they could do as they pleased with her after only a few strokes of their fingers. The call seemed normal, until the end.
"You said the janitor's name was Pedley?" the operator asked, their voice suddenly tense; then, when she confirmed, they continued, "Alright, we'll need to take a more detailed report in person. Are you at home?"
The call wrapped up not long after that, the operator barely waiting for Ashley to finish giving her address before hanging up. The perplexed blonde briefly wondered why Pedley's name seemed to ratchet up the tension, then she shrugged and returned to her book.
Barely five minutes later, there was a knock at her door. Two tall, burly policemen stood on the other side.
"Oh, officers! I didn't think you'd be here so soon, please, come in," Ashley said. The two strode through the door, smiling down at the petite, pajama-clad blonde and subtly observing how her loose, modest nightwear fell around her sensual curves.
"Thank you for calling us, Ms. Grable,' said the older of the two, a ruggedly handsome man in his early thirties with a buzzcut, deep-set brown eyes and a thick chestnut-brown walrus mustache. "I'm officer Owens, and this is my partner, Officer Wilson."
Wilson was leaner and shorter than Owens, in his mid-twenties, clean-shaven with close-cropped blonde hair and piercing green eyes. He spoke up immediately after being introduced, readying a notepad and pen as he did so:
"We understand you have a report to file, ma'am?"
"Yes, but please, come sit down! We'll all be more comfortable that way," Ashley said cheerfully, leading the way towards her big brown sofa, completely unaware that their eyes were firmly locked on her jiggling ass. She plopped down on the middle cushion, her bountiful breasts bouncing hypnotically while the brown buttons on her top strained valiantly to maintain her modesty. The two officers sat down on either side of the blue-eyed beauty, closer than was strictly professional but with just barely enough distance that they weren't brushing against her narrow shoulders with every motion. She quickly recounted her ordeal a second time, leaving out the tickling once again, while Wilson's pen scratched away at the notepad with quick, dutiful strokes. When she finished, they sat for a few moments, silent but for the quiet scraping of the pen.
"Pedley, that name sounds familiar," Wilson said thoughtfully as he finished writing. "Didn't you tell me about him once, Owens?"
"Yeah, Woodrow Pedley, knew him in high school," Owens said, beginning to frown. "Kind of a perv, always trying to get girls alone and tickle them."
Ashley tried to keep the surprise off her face; it was just her luck that one of the cops knew Pedley, but maybe they wouldn't connect the dots...
"Odd detail, you'd think he would still be doing that if it was the same Pedley," Wilson said, and Ashley's heart plummeted as he returned his too-shrewd eyes to her freckled face. "Did this Pedley tickle you at any point, Ms. Grable?"
"Oh, no, of course not, I'm not even tickli- EEP!" Ashley squealed and jumped as Owen's jabbed a finger into her soft side.
"You sure you're not ticklish?" Owens asked with a smirk.
"No, no, you surprised me is all!" The curvy young woman laughed off the question, while internally realizing that her current position, seated directly between the two officers, left her quite vulnerable, and began to stand up. "Now, if that's EEEHEEHEENO!"
Wilson had darted a hand forward, five fingers flying wildly over her cotton-covered midriff, and the sensitive blonde flopped back down onto the couch, slender arms wrapping across her belly. She made another attempt to rise, but Owens had reached one arm around behind her while she focused on Wilson; she felt his hands squeezing just above her hips at nearly the same moment as her perfectly-rounded buttocks hit the cushion again, her worry rising at the same rate her sexy body fell, and he didn't let go.
"OHOHOFFICEHEHEHEHER PLEEHEEHEEHEEASE!" Ashley wailed through her laughter, doubling over until her boobs squashed against her thick thighs. She tried in vain to pry Owens' hands away from her sensitive flesh, but succeeded only in leaving her pits open, a fact Wilson quickly took advantage of.
"I think you might be ticklish, Ms. Grable!" Wilson teased, darting his index fingers directly into her underarms, a thin layer of cotton the only thing between his probing digits and her most ticklish spots. Ashley could barely handle being tickled by one person for a few seconds; having two pairs of hands to worry about at once quickly overwhelmed the ticklish beauty, and she was quickly reduced to helpless laughter, unable to even get words out as her face quickly turned a bright red, arms pulled tight to her sides in a way that only pushed Wilson's fingers deeper into her hyper-sensitive armpits. After a thirty-second eternity, she got the briefest of reliefs as Owens released her sides, only to scream in panic as he dragged her arms behind her back and grabbed his handcuffs.
"NOHOHO LEEHEEHEET MEEHEEHEE GOOHOOHOOHOO!" the blushing blonde cried out to no avail as the cold metal clamped shut around her tiny wrists. To her further dismay, not only did Owens not listen, he grabbed her narrow shoulders, standing from the couch and pulling her onto her side in one smooth motion. Wilson promptly seized her slender ankles and pulled her legs straight over his lap, rolling her onto her back, and Owens swung one leg over her thighs, pinning her faceup with her own weight pressing her restrained hands into the couch.
"ha... ha... wait, please, officers, why are you doing this?" Ashley asked, her eyes wide and pale freckled cheeks flushed a bright pink. She didn't really believe she could talk them out of tickling her more, but maybe she could buy time to come up with a means of escape. Everyone in the apartment complex would be at church at this time of day - the town was very observant about sermon attendance, despite otherwise being pretty lax on religious matters - so screaming for help wouldn't be an option.
"Well Ms. Grable, you know lying to police officers is a crime," Owens said with a wolfish smile, his thick fingers undoing the bottom button of her shirt.
"I- I'm sorry officer, I won't do it again, please just let me go and..." Ashley babbled away, her mouth going on autopilot as her mind raced and the muscular man unbuttoned her shirt up to just below her breasts, opening it up to reveal her pale, flat tummy. Internally, the curvy captive steeled herself for another round of torture. Owens raised ten fingers above her exposed belly, darted them down - she instinctively sucked in her stomach with a quiet squeak of fear, only to relax as he pulled back just before contact. He did it twice, thrice, and each time got the same reaction, her eyes fixed firmly on his teasing hands. Suddenly, from his forgotten position at the foot of the couch, Wilson scrabbled five fingers across her soles, switching feet and directions with no rhyme or reason.
"AAAAHAAAHAAHAAAAANOOHOO!" Ashley screamed in surprise, jerking her ankles in an attempt to escape Wilson's arm and screwing her eyes shut, only for them to fly open again as Owens finally attacked her belly, fingers clawing up and down to either side of her belly button and occasionally pinching the soft, yielding flesh. Arching her back up only to fall back to the couch in helpless laughter, the gorgeous ticklee just barely managed to stop herself from screaming more, though her laughter continued bubbling out, a river of hilarity that she was helpless to dam up. Deep down, beneath the torment, a small part of her was still examining options for escape, and concluded that, even if she got out of their clutches and made a break for it, they would probably catch her as she tried to get out the door. That left only two options: waiting them out, or bargaining, and she still remembered how bargaining had turned out with Pedley. That tiny, analytical side of her mind was silenced a moment later when Owens leaned down and began running his thick mustache across her belly, his hands moving up to squeeze at her ribs.
What little control the buxom blonde had been maintaining evaporated under the new stimulus. She screamed wordlessly, throwing her shoulders side to side in the only motion still available to her, golden hair flying every which way, getting in her eyes, her mouth, her nose. The fingers at her ribs darted between the bones, expertly honing onto the most sensitive spots and torturing her relentlessly, while the mustache slid up and down her exposed midriff like a bristle brush, the torment occasionally heightened even further by quick licks and nibbles at particularly sensitive spots. Her belly button seemed to be a favorite for the sadistic officer, as were the faint lines that formed between her abdominal muscles as her stomach randomly tensed and tightened under the unwanted attention.
Wilson, meanwhile, had grown more sophisticated in his assault on the tickle toy's tiny feet: he had shifted from holding her ankles in his lap to sitting on them, bringing his second hand to bear, and shifted from random scribbling to more devilish tactics. One moment he would trace up and down her feet, heel to ball, the next he would draw figure-eights on her arches or poke under her toes. Ashley was unable to do anything but wiggle her feet back and forth uselessly, the struggle serving only to whet Wilson's appetite for more. The thing that finally pushed her over the line, caused her screams to devolve into silent, breathless laughter, was when he stopped doing the same patterns with both hands. The uneven stimulus, different motions attacking her feet at the same time, coupled with Owens' continuing torso tickling, overwhelmed the increasingly disheveled beauty's already overtaxed mind... her conscious mind, that is.
Her subconscious, the one part not fully occupied with trying and failing to keep up with the torturous sensations rushing over her torso and feet, was trying to put this experience into some sort of context, some sort of framing from which it could be understood. She'd been tickled plenty of times before that weekend, by friends, by family, by the occasional lover; but it was always playful teasing, or perhaps flirting. Her friend Sybil even occasionally used her sensitivity against her like a weapon, using quick tickles to resolve some minor dispute. But this, being held down, restrained, and slowly stripped while someone else's hands explored her body against her will... try as she might to avoid the conclusion, the laughing blonde only had her prior day's experience to compare it to, and all she could do was hope that these officers didn't go as far as Pedley had.
That hope dimmed as Owens undid the last few buttons of her top, pulling it open, a plain white bra now the only thing covering her huge, soft breasts, while cool air suddenly met the first few drops of sweat forming in her freshly-exposed pits. The salty liquid proved little deterrence to Owens as his hands darted into her underarms, drawing the most deranged scream yet from the nearly-topless woman; indeed, as it spread through the smooth-shaven hollows, it only aided his digits in dancing about more smoothly, flicking from the sides of her heaving boobs up to the crease under her shoulder and ravaging all the soft, sensitive skin in between. Her eyes watered as he shifted from light strokes to savage clawing, digging deep into her yielding flesh. Her torment continued for what seemed like hours, tears streaming down the sides of Ashley's face and soaking her hair and couch cushions while her pale skin turned a bright pink. Eventually, the two officers stopped tickling the sobbing blonde, both taking a moment to flex and stretch their fingers while she gasped for breath.
"So, Ms. Grable, think you've learned your lesson about lying to the police?" Owens asked with a devilish grin. Ashley bobbed her head immediately, eyes wide and dim from crying.
"Y-yes, I promise, no more lying, please let me go," she stammered out, still sucking in deep lungfuls of air between words, breasts heaving with every breath.
"Now now, what's the rush?" Wilson said from down by her feet. "You still have to give us the full story about Pedley. He tickled you too, didn't he?"
The curvy, shirtless beauty babbled out the events of the previous day once more, this time including every detail: the initial laughter-inducing ambush, the perverse game with her clothes, how she had been more sensitive after the devilish janitor forced her to cum, even how he had tickled under her ass cheeks while he fucked her. At the end, her eyes beginning to clear, she saw a look of satisfaction spreading across Owens' face, and decided that was her opening.
"I've told you everything now," she said, "so please, let me go and stop tickling me."
"What's the rush?" Wilson said again, leaning back and leering at her big, bra-bound boobs from behind Owens. "We worked hard to get that out of you, we're gonna take our time and enjoy the view."
The flush that had been slowly fading from Ashley's freckled face came back full force, and she stammered incoherently for a second before finding her words again.
"It's just I have to pee really bad after that, and I don't want it all over my couch or Officer Owens' uniform, so-"
"You'll be wanting us to arrest Pedley, I assume?" Owens broke in. She stared at him in confusion.
"Um-yes?"
"How about this, you agree to drop it and we let you go."
"What? But- but he-" She was cut off again when Owens clapped his hands decisively and stood up. Wilson rose as well, and the two each took one of her slender arms, hoisting her up from the couch to stand between them, hands still cuffed behind her with her pajama top dangling from her wrists. They marched the baffled blonde into her bedroom, then through the open bathroom door. She thought with embarrassment that they were going to sit her on the toilet and watch her go, but was confused yet again when they took her hairbrush and toothbrush and stepped into the shower with her. Puzzlement turned to a panicked clarity as they raised the brushes from either side to hover just centimeters away from her bare belly.
"Wait wait wahAIHAHAHAHANOHOHOO!" The two brushes were even worse than being tickled with just fingers had been, and it was a wonder Ashley didn't piss her pants the moment they made contact with her skin. The stiff bristles of the hairbrush roughly swept across large patches of pale midriff, the sensation just barely staying this side of the border between tickling and painful. The smaller, softer toothbrush seemed to consistently find hypersensitive places to graze across, sometimes darting between two ribs, sometimes plunging into her innie belly button, and once even diving into her wobbling cleavage. All in all, the two tools left her thrashing helplessly between the two officers, curvy hips darting first one way then the other in a futile attempt to escape the torment, even if only for a second. Her torturers' tight grips on her arms held her upper body mostly still; that one factor was the only thing stopping her from shaking her bra straps right off her shoulders.
The bedraggled beauty was in no state to recognize that small mercy, however. She howled with laughter, tears streaming from her scrunched up eyes and past her painfully stretched jaw as all her focus - what little was left from the rounds of ticklish torment - was focused exclusively on her overtaxed bladder, every unconscious jerk and spasm pushing her closer and closer to the edge. With a heroic effort, she held out until the toothbrush in Wilson's hands lunged up, past the side of her convulsing breast, straight into her armpit. Ashley screamed in despair as the crotch and inner legs of her pants darkened all the way down to the ankles, only a little bit of pee dripping from the soaked fabric to the shower floor. She slumped between the two officers, utterly defeated, unable even to feel relief as their brushes momentarily stopped tormenting her.
It was a short-lived respite, unfortunately for the humiliated captive. Owens wrapped one arm under her shoulders from behind, hand coming to rest in her underarm, and held her up on his own while wriggling his fingers in her pit and dragging the hairbrush from the waistband of her pants up to the the bottom of her bra. Yet another round of undignified giggles were forced from the restrained blonde while Wilson set the toothbrush aside and grabbed a towel. He slowly peeled the sodden pajama bottoms and panties down, rubbing her pale skin dry with the towel as he went and eventually discarding her sullied clothes, leaving poor Ashley in nothing but a bra. That done, he took a firm grip on her ankles and hoisted her off the floor, leaving the almost-naked woman dangling between the two policemen. They carried her out of the bathroom and set her down on her bed, Owens pulling her to sit with her back against the headboard while Wilson rummaged through her drawers. The wheezing blonde pulled her knees up to her ample chest and paid no mind to the sandy-haired officer's search, her mind exclusively concerned with pulling itself back together - a task made harder by Owens' continual pinching up and down her curvy sides, which the still-cuffed belle was helpless to defend herself against.
Wilson marched back to the bed with a pair of nylons in his hands. He tied one around her left ankle, then pulled that leg straight out to her side, tying the other end of the nylon hose to the bed post. The sandy-haired officer walked around to the other side of the bed and repeated the process on her right ankle, forcing the nearly-nude beauty to do a split while Owens continued tormenting her ticklish sides. He wandered off again, and Owens darted his fingers right up into her sweaty pits, wriggling and pressing in hard while she shifted back and forth, her outspread legs holding her in place while she hoarsely screamed and wailed under the torment. Unnoticed by Ashley, her left bra strap slipped off her shoulder. Wilson returned a moment later with a bucket of soapy water and a sponge; he washed her smooth pussy and legs thoroughly, soap water staining her sheets, heedless of both her thrashing and Owens' cruel fun.
Once she'd been thoroughly cleaned, Ashley finally got a chance to breathe as both officers stepped back and admired the sight: the gorgeous woman sat helpless and wide-eyed before them, her hairless mound and labia completely exposed, bra almost ready to fall off her massive, heaving breasts, and smooth, pale skin covered in pink tracks from their fingers and brushes. Wilson clapped his hands and rubbed them together.
"Right! Now the real fun starts," he said, reaching down out of Ashley's sight and rising back up with a feather duster. The bound blonde shook her head in wordless terror as the cruel instrument descended straight towards her pussy; she jumped and gasped as it stroked across her labia, and began to giggle as it darted out in a wide oval across her mound and inner thighs before finally darting into her slit. She screamed in terror as it easily found her clit; she remembered all too well how her last session of ticklish torment had grown even worse after she orgasmed. Ashley thrashed as much as she could, throwing her petite torso from side to side, but the motion did nothing to stop the clitoral stimulation. It did, unnoticed by the busty beauty, cause the other strap on her bra to fall off; the cups of the overworked garment slowly worked their way down, until, with one last heave, her breasts bounced free completely, the white undergarment falling down to rest across her hips and thighs. Owens ensured she couldn't miss the latest development, his mustachioed lips latching onto one bright pink nipple immediately while a rough hand came up to squeeze and pinch her other breast. The nude captive wailed with helpless laughter as the new stimulation, combined with the stroking of the feather duster, quickly brought her to orgasm, the spray of cum from between her legs joining the soapy water soaking into her bed. This time was even worse than with Pedley; Wilson managed to wedge a few fingers into her sweaty armpit even as he kept the feather duster flicking through her vagina and Owens continued licking and sucking her nipple, his groping hand shifting to flicking and teasing the other nipple as well. Ashley's back arched as she screamed; she came again and again, the newly increased sensitivity feeding back into itself and bringing her to orgasm faster the next time while dragging the tickling up to new, excruciating levels of torment.
Ashley didn't know how long they continued like that, and she didn't remember them stopping. One moment, their hands were driving her insane, the next she was blinking awake, alone and untied, still on her soaked-through bed. She thought at some point she had babbled out a promise to leave the prior day's incident alone and not tell anyone else about it, but the entire time was a blur to her. She managed to stagger to her feet and get herself a glass of water; after that, the sheer exhaustion of the experience hit the still-naked blonde, and she collapsed on her couch, eyes dragging themselves shut as sunlight streamed through the blinds and cast playful shadows across her pale, freckled skin. She had one last thought before sleep claimed her again: this was bigger than she'd thought.
Next story: Working Late, Part 1: An Ashley Grable Story (Multiple MF/f, noncon, sexual)
The Janitor's Closet: introducing Ashley Grable (M/f, sexual, noncon)
Ashley woke to the morning sun streaming through her blinds. The disheveled blonde sat up, blinking in confusion and staring down at the jeans and tank top she had fallen asleep in, until the previous day's events came crashing back into her mind. She shuddered at the memories of cruel hands exploring her small, curvy body while her mouth strained with laughter and she could see nothing but blue and pink stripes. She took a few deep breaths, her large breasts slowly rising and falling in rhythm. Once she had gotten herself together, she knew just what to do to comfort herself. Rising off the soft blue comforter of her queen size bed, she stripped off her day-old clothes and stepped into her closet, reemerging a moment later in black spandex shorts and a matching sports bra, her trusty pink yoga mat rolled up under one arm.
The pale, freckled beauty went through a short stretching routine - short by her standards at least. The next half-hour rolled by unnoticed as she moved through her poses and meditations, ending down in a split, her smooth legs extending straight out to the sides while her arms stretched upwards, flat stomach tensing with the effort of keeping her torso upright. As always, she capped off the workout by envisioning the day when she'd have her own yoga studio: a small, tidy place, full of people working towards inner peace and outer fitness under her attentive gaze. The familiarity and ease of it left her feeling a bit more put-together, so long as she didn't think back to Pedley's cruel attentions.
A glance at the clock told Ashley she still had time to get ready for church, but the gorgeous young woman felt she needed a day to relax, and suddenly recalled that yesterday she had fallen asleep without showering. She quickly rectified the issue, taking a few minutes to just enjoy the warm water cascading over her freckle-dusted shoulders, trailing down across her curvaceous frame. Once she was clean and dry again, she rubbed lotion onto every inch of her smooth, sensitive skin, before slipping into comfy underwear and fluffy sky-blue pajamas, buttoning the top all the way up. Feeling much more at ease, Ashley moved out into her well-furnished living room, grabbed the romance novel she'd been reading recently, and plopped down onto the couch. Unfortunately, she found herself unable to concentrate on her book, as a single thought continually forced its way into her mind: what if Pedley went after someone else? The golden-haired office worker was sure she could deal with whatever the demented janitor had in store for her, no matter what he did with the photos he'd taken, but the thought of doing nothing while he went after someone else, of enabling his depravity, was unacceptable.
Eventually, Ashley put the book down, grabbed her phone, and called the police. She described the incident the day prior: being locked in the closet, tied up, stripped, and kept there until she agreed to fuck her captor, but leaving out the tickling - it was an embarrassing detail, and if the story made it onto the nightly news, the last thing she wanted the whole town knowing was that they could do as they pleased with her after only a few strokes of their fingers. The call seemed normal, until the end.
"You said the janitor's name was Pedley?" the operator asked, their voice suddenly tense; then, when she confirmed, they continued, "Alright, we'll need to take a more detailed report in person. Are you at home?"
The call wrapped up not long after that, the operator barely waiting for Ashley to finish giving her address before hanging up. The perplexed blonde briefly wondered why Pedley's name seemed to ratchet up the tension, then she shrugged and returned to her book.
Barely five minutes later, there was a knock at her door. Two tall, burly policemen stood on the other side.
"Oh, officers! I didn't think you'd be here so soon, please, come in," Ashley said. The two strode through the door, smiling down at the petite, pajama-clad blonde and subtly observing how her loose, modest nightwear fell around her sensual curves.
"Thank you for calling us, Ms. Grable,' said the older of the two, a ruggedly handsome man in his early thirties with a buzzcut, deep-set brown eyes and a thick chestnut-brown walrus mustache. "I'm officer Owens, and this is my partner, Officer Wilson."
Wilson was leaner and shorter than Owens, in his mid-twenties, clean-shaven with close-cropped blonde hair and piercing green eyes. He spoke up immediately after being introduced, readying a notepad and pen as he did so:
"We understand you have a report to file, ma'am?"
"Yes, but please, come sit down! We'll all be more comfortable that way," Ashley said cheerfully, leading the way towards her big brown sofa, completely unaware that their eyes were firmly locked on her jiggling ass. She plopped down on the middle cushion, her bountiful breasts bouncing hypnotically while the brown buttons on her top strained valiantly to maintain her modesty. The two officers sat down on either side of the blue-eyed beauty, closer than was strictly professional but with just barely enough distance that they weren't brushing against her narrow shoulders with every motion. She quickly recounted her ordeal a second time, leaving out the tickling once again, while Wilson's pen scratched away at the notepad with quick, dutiful strokes. When she finished, they sat for a few moments, silent but for the quiet scraping of the pen.
"Pedley, that name sounds familiar," Wilson said thoughtfully as he finished writing. "Didn't you tell me about him once, Owens?"
"Yeah, Woodrow Pedley, knew him in high school," Owens said, beginning to frown. "Kind of a perv, always trying to get girls alone and tickle them."
Ashley tried to keep the surprise off her face; it was just her luck that one of the cops knew Pedley, but maybe they wouldn't connect the dots...
"Odd detail, you'd think he would still be doing that if it was the same Pedley," Wilson said, and Ashley's heart plummeted as he returned his too-shrewd eyes to her freckled face. "Did this Pedley tickle you at any point, Ms. Grable?"
"Oh, no, of course not, I'm not even tickli- EEP!" Ashley squealed and jumped as Owen's jabbed a finger into her soft side.
"You sure you're not ticklish?" Owens asked with a smirk.
"No, no, you surprised me is all!" The curvy young woman laughed off the question, while internally realizing that her current position, seated directly between the two officers, left her quite vulnerable, and began to stand up. "Now, if that's EEEHEEHEENO!"
Wilson had darted a hand forward, five fingers flying wildly over her cotton-covered midriff, and the sensitive blonde flopped back down onto the couch, slender arms wrapping across her belly. She made another attempt to rise, but Owens had reached one arm around behind her while she focused on Wilson; she felt his hands squeezing just above her hips at nearly the same moment as her perfectly-rounded buttocks hit the cushion again, her worry rising at the same rate her sexy body fell, and he didn't let go.
"OHOHOFFICEHEHEHEHER PLEEHEEHEEHEEASE!" Ashley wailed through her laughter, doubling over until her boobs squashed against her thick thighs. She tried in vain to pry Owens' hands away from her sensitive flesh, but succeeded only in leaving her pits open, a fact Wilson quickly took advantage of.
"I think you might be ticklish, Ms. Grable!" Wilson teased, darting his index fingers directly into her underarms, a thin layer of cotton the only thing between his probing digits and her most ticklish spots. Ashley could barely handle being tickled by one person for a few seconds; having two pairs of hands to worry about at once quickly overwhelmed the ticklish beauty, and she was quickly reduced to helpless laughter, unable to even get words out as her face quickly turned a bright red, arms pulled tight to her sides in a way that only pushed Wilson's fingers deeper into her hyper-sensitive armpits. After a thirty-second eternity, she got the briefest of reliefs as Owens released her sides, only to scream in panic as he dragged her arms behind her back and grabbed his handcuffs.
"NOHOHO LEEHEEHEET MEEHEEHEE GOOHOOHOOHOO!" the blushing blonde cried out to no avail as the cold metal clamped shut around her tiny wrists. To her further dismay, not only did Owens not listen, he grabbed her narrow shoulders, standing from the couch and pulling her onto her side in one smooth motion. Wilson promptly seized her slender ankles and pulled her legs straight over his lap, rolling her onto her back, and Owens swung one leg over her thighs, pinning her faceup with her own weight pressing her restrained hands into the couch.
"ha... ha... wait, please, officers, why are you doing this?" Ashley asked, her eyes wide and pale freckled cheeks flushed a bright pink. She didn't really believe she could talk them out of tickling her more, but maybe she could buy time to come up with a means of escape. Everyone in the apartment complex would be at church at this time of day - the town was very observant about sermon attendance, despite otherwise being pretty lax on religious matters - so screaming for help wouldn't be an option.
"Well Ms. Grable, you know lying to police officers is a crime," Owens said with a wolfish smile, his thick fingers undoing the bottom button of her shirt.
"I- I'm sorry officer, I won't do it again, please just let me go and..." Ashley babbled away, her mouth going on autopilot as her mind raced and the muscular man unbuttoned her shirt up to just below her breasts, opening it up to reveal her pale, flat tummy. Internally, the curvy captive steeled herself for another round of torture. Owens raised ten fingers above her exposed belly, darted them down - she instinctively sucked in her stomach with a quiet squeak of fear, only to relax as he pulled back just before contact. He did it twice, thrice, and each time got the same reaction, her eyes fixed firmly on his teasing hands. Suddenly, from his forgotten position at the foot of the couch, Wilson scrabbled five fingers across her soles, switching feet and directions with no rhyme or reason.
"AAAAHAAAHAAHAAAAANOOHOO!" Ashley screamed in surprise, jerking her ankles in an attempt to escape Wilson's arm and screwing her eyes shut, only for them to fly open again as Owens finally attacked her belly, fingers clawing up and down to either side of her belly button and occasionally pinching the soft, yielding flesh. Arching her back up only to fall back to the couch in helpless laughter, the gorgeous ticklee just barely managed to stop herself from screaming more, though her laughter continued bubbling out, a river of hilarity that she was helpless to dam up. Deep down, beneath the torment, a small part of her was still examining options for escape, and concluded that, even if she got out of their clutches and made a break for it, they would probably catch her as she tried to get out the door. That left only two options: waiting them out, or bargaining, and she still remembered how bargaining had turned out with Pedley. That tiny, analytical side of her mind was silenced a moment later when Owens leaned down and began running his thick mustache across her belly, his hands moving up to squeeze at her ribs.
What little control the buxom blonde had been maintaining evaporated under the new stimulus. She screamed wordlessly, throwing her shoulders side to side in the only motion still available to her, golden hair flying every which way, getting in her eyes, her mouth, her nose. The fingers at her ribs darted between the bones, expertly honing onto the most sensitive spots and torturing her relentlessly, while the mustache slid up and down her exposed midriff like a bristle brush, the torment occasionally heightened even further by quick licks and nibbles at particularly sensitive spots. Her belly button seemed to be a favorite for the sadistic officer, as were the faint lines that formed between her abdominal muscles as her stomach randomly tensed and tightened under the unwanted attention.
Wilson, meanwhile, had grown more sophisticated in his assault on the tickle toy's tiny feet: he had shifted from holding her ankles in his lap to sitting on them, bringing his second hand to bear, and shifted from random scribbling to more devilish tactics. One moment he would trace up and down her feet, heel to ball, the next he would draw figure-eights on her arches or poke under her toes. Ashley was unable to do anything but wiggle her feet back and forth uselessly, the struggle serving only to whet Wilson's appetite for more. The thing that finally pushed her over the line, caused her screams to devolve into silent, breathless laughter, was when he stopped doing the same patterns with both hands. The uneven stimulus, different motions attacking her feet at the same time, coupled with Owens' continuing torso tickling, overwhelmed the increasingly disheveled beauty's already overtaxed mind... her conscious mind, that is.
Her subconscious, the one part not fully occupied with trying and failing to keep up with the torturous sensations rushing over her torso and feet, was trying to put this experience into some sort of context, some sort of framing from which it could be understood. She'd been tickled plenty of times before that weekend, by friends, by family, by the occasional lover; but it was always playful teasing, or perhaps flirting. Her friend Sybil even occasionally used her sensitivity against her like a weapon, using quick tickles to resolve some minor dispute. But this, being held down, restrained, and slowly stripped while someone else's hands explored her body against her will... try as she might to avoid the conclusion, the laughing blonde only had her prior day's experience to compare it to, and all she could do was hope that these officers didn't go as far as Pedley had.
That hope dimmed as Owens undid the last few buttons of her top, pulling it open, a plain white bra now the only thing covering her huge, soft breasts, while cool air suddenly met the first few drops of sweat forming in her freshly-exposed pits. The salty liquid proved little deterrence to Owens as his hands darted into her underarms, drawing the most deranged scream yet from the nearly-topless woman; indeed, as it spread through the smooth-shaven hollows, it only aided his digits in dancing about more smoothly, flicking from the sides of her heaving boobs up to the crease under her shoulder and ravaging all the soft, sensitive skin in between. Her eyes watered as he shifted from light strokes to savage clawing, digging deep into her yielding flesh. Her torment continued for what seemed like hours, tears streaming down the sides of Ashley's face and soaking her hair and couch cushions while her pale skin turned a bright pink. Eventually, the two officers stopped tickling the sobbing blonde, both taking a moment to flex and stretch their fingers while she gasped for breath.
"So, Ms. Grable, think you've learned your lesson about lying to the police?" Owens asked with a devilish grin. Ashley bobbed her head immediately, eyes wide and dim from crying.
"Y-yes, I promise, no more lying, please let me go," she stammered out, still sucking in deep lungfuls of air between words, breasts heaving with every breath.
"Now now, what's the rush?" Wilson said from down by her feet. "You still have to give us the full story about Pedley. He tickled you too, didn't he?"
The curvy, shirtless beauty babbled out the events of the previous day once more, this time including every detail: the initial laughter-inducing ambush, the perverse game with her clothes, how she had been more sensitive after the devilish janitor forced her to cum, even how he had tickled under her ass cheeks while he fucked her. At the end, her eyes beginning to clear, she saw a look of satisfaction spreading across Owens' face, and decided that was her opening.
"I've told you everything now," she said, "so please, let me go and stop tickling me."
"What's the rush?" Wilson said again, leaning back and leering at her big, bra-bound boobs from behind Owens. "We worked hard to get that out of you, we're gonna take our time and enjoy the view."
The flush that had been slowly fading from Ashley's freckled face came back full force, and she stammered incoherently for a second before finding her words again.
"It's just I have to pee really bad after that, and I don't want it all over my couch or Officer Owens' uniform, so-"
"You'll be wanting us to arrest Pedley, I assume?" Owens broke in. She stared at him in confusion.
"Um-yes?"
"How about this, you agree to drop it and we let you go."
"What? But- but he-" She was cut off again when Owens clapped his hands decisively and stood up. Wilson rose as well, and the two each took one of her slender arms, hoisting her up from the couch to stand between them, hands still cuffed behind her with her pajama top dangling from her wrists. They marched the baffled blonde into her bedroom, then through the open bathroom door. She thought with embarrassment that they were going to sit her on the toilet and watch her go, but was confused yet again when they took her hairbrush and toothbrush and stepped into the shower with her. Puzzlement turned to a panicked clarity as they raised the brushes from either side to hover just centimeters away from her bare belly.
"Wait wait wahAIHAHAHAHANOHOHOO!" The two brushes were even worse than being tickled with just fingers had been, and it was a wonder Ashley didn't piss her pants the moment they made contact with her skin. The stiff bristles of the hairbrush roughly swept across large patches of pale midriff, the sensation just barely staying this side of the border between tickling and painful. The smaller, softer toothbrush seemed to consistently find hypersensitive places to graze across, sometimes darting between two ribs, sometimes plunging into her innie belly button, and once even diving into her wobbling cleavage. All in all, the two tools left her thrashing helplessly between the two officers, curvy hips darting first one way then the other in a futile attempt to escape the torment, even if only for a second. Her torturers' tight grips on her arms held her upper body mostly still; that one factor was the only thing stopping her from shaking her bra straps right off her shoulders.
The bedraggled beauty was in no state to recognize that small mercy, however. She howled with laughter, tears streaming from her scrunched up eyes and past her painfully stretched jaw as all her focus - what little was left from the rounds of ticklish torment - was focused exclusively on her overtaxed bladder, every unconscious jerk and spasm pushing her closer and closer to the edge. With a heroic effort, she held out until the toothbrush in Wilson's hands lunged up, past the side of her convulsing breast, straight into her armpit. Ashley screamed in despair as the crotch and inner legs of her pants darkened all the way down to the ankles, only a little bit of pee dripping from the soaked fabric to the shower floor. She slumped between the two officers, utterly defeated, unable even to feel relief as their brushes momentarily stopped tormenting her.
It was a short-lived respite, unfortunately for the humiliated captive. Owens wrapped one arm under her shoulders from behind, hand coming to rest in her underarm, and held her up on his own while wriggling his fingers in her pit and dragging the hairbrush from the waistband of her pants up to the the bottom of her bra. Yet another round of undignified giggles were forced from the restrained blonde while Wilson set the toothbrush aside and grabbed a towel. He slowly peeled the sodden pajama bottoms and panties down, rubbing her pale skin dry with the towel as he went and eventually discarding her sullied clothes, leaving poor Ashley in nothing but a bra. That done, he took a firm grip on her ankles and hoisted her off the floor, leaving the almost-naked woman dangling between the two policemen. They carried her out of the bathroom and set her down on her bed, Owens pulling her to sit with her back against the headboard while Wilson rummaged through her drawers. The wheezing blonde pulled her knees up to her ample chest and paid no mind to the sandy-haired officer's search, her mind exclusively concerned with pulling itself back together - a task made harder by Owens' continual pinching up and down her curvy sides, which the still-cuffed belle was helpless to defend herself against.
Wilson marched back to the bed with a pair of nylons in his hands. He tied one around her left ankle, then pulled that leg straight out to her side, tying the other end of the nylon hose to the bed post. The sandy-haired officer walked around to the other side of the bed and repeated the process on her right ankle, forcing the nearly-nude beauty to do a split while Owens continued tormenting her ticklish sides. He wandered off again, and Owens darted his fingers right up into her sweaty pits, wriggling and pressing in hard while she shifted back and forth, her outspread legs holding her in place while she hoarsely screamed and wailed under the torment. Unnoticed by Ashley, her left bra strap slipped off her shoulder. Wilson returned a moment later with a bucket of soapy water and a sponge; he washed her smooth pussy and legs thoroughly, soap water staining her sheets, heedless of both her thrashing and Owens' cruel fun.
Once she'd been thoroughly cleaned, Ashley finally got a chance to breathe as both officers stepped back and admired the sight: the gorgeous woman sat helpless and wide-eyed before them, her hairless mound and labia completely exposed, bra almost ready to fall off her massive, heaving breasts, and smooth, pale skin covered in pink tracks from their fingers and brushes. Wilson clapped his hands and rubbed them together.
"Right! Now the real fun starts," he said, reaching down out of Ashley's sight and rising back up with a feather duster. The bound blonde shook her head in wordless terror as the cruel instrument descended straight towards her pussy; she jumped and gasped as it stroked across her labia, and began to giggle as it darted out in a wide oval across her mound and inner thighs before finally darting into her slit. She screamed in terror as it easily found her clit; she remembered all too well how her last session of ticklish torment had grown even worse after she orgasmed. Ashley thrashed as much as she could, throwing her petite torso from side to side, but the motion did nothing to stop the clitoral stimulation. It did, unnoticed by the busty beauty, cause the other strap on her bra to fall off; the cups of the overworked garment slowly worked their way down, until, with one last heave, her breasts bounced free completely, the white undergarment falling down to rest across her hips and thighs. Owens ensured she couldn't miss the latest development, his mustachioed lips latching onto one bright pink nipple immediately while a rough hand came up to squeeze and pinch her other breast. The nude captive wailed with helpless laughter as the new stimulation, combined with the stroking of the feather duster, quickly brought her to orgasm, the spray of cum from between her legs joining the soapy water soaking into her bed. This time was even worse than with Pedley; Wilson managed to wedge a few fingers into her sweaty armpit even as he kept the feather duster flicking through her vagina and Owens continued licking and sucking her nipple, his groping hand shifting to flicking and teasing the other nipple as well. Ashley's back arched as she screamed; she came again and again, the newly increased sensitivity feeding back into itself and bringing her to orgasm faster the next time while dragging the tickling up to new, excruciating levels of torment.
Ashley didn't know how long they continued like that, and she didn't remember them stopping. One moment, their hands were driving her insane, the next she was blinking awake, alone and untied, still on her soaked-through bed. She thought at some point she had babbled out a promise to leave the prior day's incident alone and not tell anyone else about it, but the entire time was a blur to her. She managed to stagger to her feet and get herself a glass of water; after that, the sheer exhaustion of the experience hit the still-naked blonde, and she collapsed on her couch, eyes dragging themselves shut as sunlight streamed through the blinds and cast playful shadows across her pale, freckled skin. She had one last thought before sleep claimed her again: this was bigger than she'd thought.
Next story: Working Late, Part 1: An Ashley Grable Story (Multiple MF/f, noncon, sexual)
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