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Tickle Tutor #7: A Hard Study MF/f

TickleMantis

4th Level Red Feather
Joined
May 5, 2001
Messages
1,970
Points
48
Tickle Tutor #7: A Hard Study

By TickleMantis

MF/f


Previously…​

Raised to be one of the world’s finest and most exclusive slaves, a nameless teen is purchased by a new master. Harold Deveno Senior, billionaire construction mogul and secret fetishist gives the girl a name: Jai Lin. The latest addition in Harold’s harem of involuntary young women, Jai Lin quickly becomes her master’s new favourite, much to the chagrin of the domineering housemistress, Madam Ui. Caught between Harold’s unwanted affections and Madam Ui’s cruelty, Jai Lin can do nothing as she suffers their every sadistic whim.

Years into her life of torment and seeing no way out, Jai Lin uses her cunning to seize a bold opportunity. Befriending Harold’s new head of security, the stoic Samuel Lucas, Jai Lin quickly raises herself to the top of the pecking order among Harold’s slave-girls, even managing to usurp Madam Ui. The good life is short lived however, when news of Harold’s weak heart -and the intentions for his vast fortune- reaches Jai Lin’s ears.

Threatened by a massive shift in the power structure, Samuel and Jai Lin act quickly to force events in their favor. With Harold and Madam Ui soon out of the picture and billions of dollars now in their pockets the two unlikely friends head out into the wider world.

Many years later, rookie journalist Emma Clark leaves her New York apartment and returns home. Four years out of high school and Emma can’t shake the shame of her greatest sin; leaving fellow classmate Wendy Starr to be tortured by the duplicitous duo of their math teacher and the school’s star quarterback. Back home, Emma and another former student –Deena Tripp- set about looking into the strange goings on of their senior year. What they uncover goes far beyond any depravity either of the two young women could have imagined.

Caught up in a conspiracy going back decades Emma’s inquisition sends a shockwave of trouble through her hometown’s twisted underbelly. With the damage spreading faster than Emma can manage, Wendy and Deena both find themselves at the hands of their sadistic adversaries. After a narrow escape Emma is captured too, tortured first by local law enforcement and then by the captivatingly villainous Jai Lin. Save only for the bravery of Jai Lin’s long-suffering assistant, Emma is set free.

Driven by a determination to return and rescue her friends, Emma swears to see every last bit of Jai Lin’s mad world burned to ash…no matter the cost.

Chapter One: New Staff​

Harry Deveno Junior stood as he often did, back straight and hands behind, looking down from his indoor office window to the atrium below. Across the expansive area of open floor the billionaire’s employees scurried from one office to another, each eager to make their mark and gain the approval of the man upstairs. He made for an impressive figure, Harry ‘Silver Fox’ Deveno, a nickname the 40-something year old insisted came from his cunning mind and not the stylishly pushed-back hair atop his head.

“Who’s that down there?” Deveno glanced back over one shoulder, his obscenely expensive suit barely wrinkling as he turned.

Hannah Quist stepped up beside her imposing boss. After three months as his personal assistant the buxom twenty-six year old still didn’t find Harry’s towering frame any less intimidating. Standing at a relatively petit 5’3ft Hannah often felt daunted to be so close to the man as he loomed over a foot taller than her. Following his eyes she searched the floor below for whomever it was might have caught her employer’s attention, which didn’t take long.

“She’s new.” Hannah narrowed her focus on a busty young blonde woman, unsurprised at the subject of Mr. Deveno’s interest. “Just started this morning in legal, I believe.”

Sporting long blonde locks herself it had become quickly apparent to Hannah that the heir to the Deveno billions had a particular type. It was undoubtedly part of the reason she had got the much sought after job as his P.A, beating out hundreds of other applicants. Where Hannah had generous curves the new girl was a little thinner, less round in the face and straighter hair. They both wore sensible office attire, blouses and tight fitting skirts, though where Hannah wore flats for all the running around she had to do it seemed the young lady from legal was content to suffer in heels.

“Name?” Mr. Deveno glared down at her.

“Reid. Something Reid. One moment…” Hannah slid two fingers into her skirt pocket where her phone made a rectangular bulge.

“You don’t remember?”

“I do, it’s Mindy or Lindy-“ She fumbled the phone, hurriedly looking for the correct name.

“Don’t use that.” Snatching the phone with lightening speed, Mr. Deveno turned away from the window and toward his apparently flustered assistant.

“It’s…it’s one of those ‘indy’ names, if you’ll just let me-“ Hannah made a halfhearted attempt to grab for her phone but the silver haired man quickly slipped it into his own pants pocket.

“Seems I need to jog your memory.”

“No no, I-I’ll just look it up-” The bosomy girl took a step back as she watched her boss raise both of his large hands slowly toward her. “If-if you’ll just give me my phone…” She stammered.

And therein lay the other reason, the main reason in Hannah’s humble opinion, that Harry Deveno Jr. made for such an intimidating presence. From practically her first day on the job the demanding magnate set about finding any reason, no matter how flimsy, to put his hands on her. And when Mr. Deveno couldn’t find a reason he’d simply create one. It began with a gentle poke here and there, a cheeky pinch to her side, each tiny touch eliciting girlish squeals as she’d flinch and jump to the older man’s amusement. By the end of Hannah’s second day her new boss had discovered the poor girl’s greatest fear; she was devastatingly, uncontrollably ticklish.

“M-Mr. Deveno…please!” Hannah backed away, the leering smirk that was spreading across Mr. Deveno’s handsome face doing nothing to encourage her hope of avoiding his eager fingers.

“You better hurry up and remember…” He teased, stalking toward the cowering girl with slow, deliberate steps.

The sight of Mr. Deveno’s fingers starting to wiggle in the air made sure Hannah couldn’t help but feel the involuntary urge to giggle. Despite her best efforts to push the bubbling laughter back down it was clear from her tightly pursed lips and furrowed brow that the comely girl was fit to burst, and he hadn’t even touched her. Truth be told in any other job she’d have quit on the first day, but this was one assignment Hannah couldn’t wriggle out of. All she’d overcome, all she’d fought for to get where she was, all of it threatened to come undone by making her feel like a little girl chased around the playground.

“Nono, I’ll remember!” Hannah was nearing the wall of the billionaire’s enormous office. She should have rounded the huge desk or even one of the chairs, put something between herself and the subject, at least maneuvered toward the door. Instead any tactical thought had been instantly replaced by the dread of being tickled. With the floor-to-ceiling window to one side and the wall behind her the anxious P.A had literally backed herself into a corner. “J-just give me a second t-to think!” She tittered with laughter as she spoke, her protruding butt gently bumping into the wall a second later.

“You need to think better under pressure, Miss Quist!” Deveno lunged, swiftly shooting his hands through her shaky defenses and directly onto her sides.

“Ehee! Ahano!” Hannah shot upright, her hands snapping down around the big man’s wrists as she danced awkwardly in place. “Eeiiieheehee! Ohnohoho! Mr. Deveno!”

Caught between Harry Junior’s bulk and the unforgiving wall, the voluptuous girl shook her head from side to side, her long blonde locks whipping across her bouncing bosoms. Try as she might to pry his hands from her convulsing sides the fitful girl couldn’t have fought him off on her best day. Hannah wasn’t Mr. Deveno’s only personal staff member after all, the handsy owner and CEO had a whole team of loyal assistants, not the least of which was his physical trainer. As she’d seen for herself almost daily, under the expensive suits and stern gaze was the muscular and well toned physique of a Greek statue. Of course when it came to being tickled it hardly took an Adonis to turn Hannah Quist into a befuddled mess of giggles.

“A second! Eehehe! I just neeheed a second!” Looking up with wide, pleading eyes the gasping girl’s cheeks were already turning a light shade of pink. “Sir pleiiease! Ehee! I can’t think! Eeheiihee!”

His fingers crawling speedily back and forth around her frantically twitching sides, Harry Jr. said nothing. Through the thin cotton of her blouse Hannah could feel each of her bosses’ ten fingertips stroking and poking at her soft flesh. Any attempt to push herself free was met by a rapid pinching, the alarmed girl squealing and darting back into the corner each time. Though she pawed and clutched at the offending digits, shoved at his arms and even managed the odd uncoordinated slap, nothing Hannah did seemed to slow the attack, let alone stop it.

“I’m not going to stop until you give me a name!” Mr. Deveno teased before digging his thumbs alarming deep into the blonde’s lower abdomen.

“AHAA!” Hannah squawked, doubling over and colliding the top of her head with the muscular man’s chiseled stomach. Hunched over in that brief second as she was, Deveno took the opening to tickle her from behind, reaching over her shoulders and running his devious fingers down her supple ribcage. “Ahahanoho!”

Shock jabbing her down either side the buxom girl reared up. Narrowly missing the big man’s chin with her head Hannah shot forward a single panicked step and pressed herself right up against Mr. Deveno. Twisting hard to her left the frazzled young woman found herself engulfed by the older man’s arms, his fingers darting all over her heaving tummy. Doubling over once again Hannah felt her heart sink as her knees turned to jello. With a defeated cry that was quickly overwhelmed by laughter the floor came up fast, Deveno’s weight following close behind and ensuring she ended up a pile of spasming silliness on the lavish rug.

Curling herself into a writhing ball on one side, Hannah bucked and kicked. With her hands clamped over her tummy the gasping girl would shoot one out to slap weakly at the man. Every effort to fight him off only resulted in part of her not being covered, Deveno always targeting any unprotected area with frightening accuracy. As he leaned over her, Hannah plead through schoolgirl laughter, each new second of anguish causing the pink of her cheeks to grow a little darker.

“That’s it, laying around on the job!” Harry Jr. wormed an index finger into his assistant’s underarm causing her to squeak especially loud. “Is this what I can expect of you, Miss Quist? Perhaps you need some lessons in work ethic as well as that memory-jog!” He wiggled four fingers into the nape of her neck and she snapped her shoulder up with a high pitch yowl. “Should I cancel all my appointments for the day, hmm?” Fingers kneaded into Hannah’s tummy and she curled even tighter, her long hair flailing across her flushed cheeks. “Spend all my time doing this? How would you like that?”

“Please no! Aiieehahaha!” The struggling girl’s words came out in a breathless rush. An outlandish tease though it may have been the thought of being tickled for more than the minute or two she’d already suffered sent Hannah’s mind spiraling with horror.

Harry had tickled her a few times like this before, a few awful minutes of helplessness here and there over the last twelve weeks. She’d started to develop something of a sense for when one of his attacks were about happen, not that it ever did any good. In the past Hannah would do much the same, end up on the floor and after a few long and terribly ticklish minutes Mr. Deveno would relent. Somehow this time felt different, that keen sense the curvaceous girl had was telling her something much different now, something much more alarming. Perhaps it was the look in his eye or maybe it was just the new and atrocious idea of being tickled all day, whatever it was Hannah’s internal warning system was screaming that her new boss had no intention of stopping any time soon.

“Appointment! Aeeihahaha!” She managed to gasp out just before her eyes burst open wide from a harsh drilling between two of her ribs. “Tenahaha! Ten! Eiehehaaa! Tenoclock! Ahahaplease! Stopahaha!”

“What’s that? Speak up!” Harry scribbled five fingertips across the small of Hannah’s back and she thrust herself forward sharply.

“Iiiieeheee! Y-yourahaha!” Fingers ran menacingly around the sputtering girl’s tummy and she slapped madly while trying to wrangle her thoughts. Keeping track of a coherent idea was hard enough, making her forcefully smiling lips contort enough to communicate was another mammoth task entirely. “Tehehehe! You’retenoclock!” Hannah whooped in a squealing burst of air.

“Ah…” Standing back to his full height, Mr. Deveno pushed back one of his sleeves with a discerning look. “That time already.” He glanced at the shimmering silver wristwatch that probably cost a year of Hannah’s salary. “Very good Miss Quist, seems there’s hope for you yet.”

As if he’d just completed some mundane task, Harry Jr. strolled over toward his heavy wooden desk. Catching her breath, Hannah let out a long sigh of relief as she pushed herself upright on wobbly arms. Part of the shapely girl’s blouse had untucked itself from her skirt, a slither of creamy white belly showing before she promptly covered it again. Pouting out her bottom lip the mildly disheveled P.A blew a strand of hair from out her reddened face as she tried to settle her heart rate. Harry was prodding at a key on his laptop, eyes fixed firmly on the screen as Hannah stood somewhat shakily to her feet. Brushing the wrinkles from her lower blouse where the man’s fingers had roamed wild, it occurred to her that Mr. Deveno still had her phone.

“That girl we saw-.” Deveno spoke before Hannah could figure out how to ask for her phone back without it turning into another deathly ticklish attack. “-Reid whatever. She’s in legal you said?”

“Yes sir. A paralegal.”

“Good then.” He shut the laptop and started toward the door. “Make sure she’s at the Lottlin meeting this afternoon, will you?”

“Of course.” Hannah hurried to catch up.

“And one more thing.“ Harry Jr. stopped with one hand on the door handle and turned just enough to look his anxious assistant up and down. The glare sent a shudder up her spine. “Do get her name for me, or I predict the next one-on-one meeting we have is going to last much longer.” Hauntingly, Hannah believed him.

Chapter Two: Ends of The Earth​

Fifty dollars or thereabouts, more like forty and change, was all Emma Clark had left in the world. She’d been evicted three months ago, not that she was there to see it. Evan, her dimwitted yet well-meaning neighbor, had been kind enough to gather the petit redhead’s things before the landlord let himself in. A major life event for some people, getting kicked out of their home, but for Emma it was just a blip on the radar out of the last six months. Six months of searching and spending every penny she had.

She’d been in Japan during the fall and spent most of winter in Cambodia, then Vietnam. Spring had sprung in the south of China and the humidity did Emma’s frizzy hair no favors, nor did riding a bike. It was all she could afford by then, a beat up old bicycle that the determined twenty-three year old had hauled on trains and rickety buses all the way from Nanning to Yinchuan, northward and beyond. Where she found herself now was about as far from home as the freckle-nosed American could imagine, but it wasn’t the mountainous geography that held Emma’s thoughts. She couldn’t go home, not yet, and if her next stop didn’t bear fruit then it was truly the end of the line.

Leaning her bike against a stone pillar the tiny girl took in her surroundings. A trickle of sweat ran down the back of Emma’s neck, it had been a hard trek up the dirt road to get to the remote bathhouse. Even with a cool fog settled in the valley she felt warm, her tight beige shorts and damp white t-shirt clinging to milky white skin. Pulling her water bottle from the ragged backpack hooked on the back of her bike, Emma took a much needed gulp as she surveyed the old stone structures. Vegetation grew up the high outer walls and cracked stone stairs ran up between the pillars. If it was in fact the bathhouse the young journalist was looking for it wasn’t like any she had ever seen, the place looked more like a temple.

“End of the line…” Emma whispered to herself as she secured the bottle back in place. Dragging her well-worn running shoes across the dusty ground she made her way toward the steps. This had to be the place. It had to be.

Standing at the entrance Emma surveyed the apparent bathhouse. Inside the walls was a courtyard at the center of which was a gnarly old tree. Roots bore up from under the cobbles and uncaring statues of unknown figures stared on from the outer edges. The place hardly looked like much of anything at all anymore, abandoned for years as far as Emma could tell. Plodding further inside, each small step falling with a swell of disappointment, the defeated girl stopped to see a dark doorway at the far end of the yard. No good would come of going in there, she thought, and turned back toward the entrance.

“Nínhǎo.” Came a timid voice from behind, it seemed the only sound for miles.

“Hello?” Emma whipped back toward the darkened door. Her mouth opened a little and for one exhausted, silly second the normally very sensible girl wondered if she was seeing a ghost.

“No tourist.” Said the short Chinese woman. She was older than Emma, late thirties maybe, and stood barely an inch taller. Shoulder length black hair hung straight around her shoulders. Stepping further out of the darkness Emma could see she wore a loose fitting white dress with red floral decorations. A cloth belt was tied tight around her slender hips and as she strolled the slippers on her feet barely made a sound.

“I uh, I’m not a tourist…exactly.” Emma paused, unsure what it is she was anymore. Half a year ago she’d been a journalist but she hadn’t written a word for months. For as sensational a story as Emma had on her hands she often found her thoughts leaning more toward vengeance than exposing the crimes of her enemies. “I’m…a journalist.” Her voice hardly held a tone of conviction toward the claim.

“You go.” The svelte woman approached hurriedly and put one hand on the redhead’s shoulder, guiding her back toward the stairway.

“I-no…wait…” Emma shuffled backward, stammering to explain herself. “I’m looking for someone, a woman.” Her unwelcoming host had both hands raised, pushing her open palms in the air. “I just want to speak to Madam Ui!”

The woman’s hands dropped slowly and her eyes narrowed. “Ui?”

“Yes! Yes, you know her? I have to tell her- to ask her about Jai Lin.”

While the neatly dressed woman made an expression of overt suspicion, Emma tried not to get her hopes up. The last chunk of money she’d spent had been a bribe, paying off a member of one General Qiānfān Suo’s staff. Based on a shred of information that could barely be called a rumor Emma learned that the good General Suo did perhaps know a woman who may in fact be the Madam Ui she was looking for. This particular Ui was the proprietor of a little known and very remote bathhouse, the kind of exclusive establishment known only to China’s most rich and powerful. Apparently, according to Suo’s double-dealing member of staff, the top military man liked to frequent a hidden house of luxury a couple of times a year far in the northern mountains. Had Emma been the praying sort she’d have prayed in that moment.

“My name is Yumao.” The small woman’s eyebrows rose before she pivoted back the way she’d come from. “Follow me.”

Through the dark entrance were more stone steps, narrower than the ones Emma had climbed and thankfully leading down. While the stairs seemed to disappear into pitch darkness Yumao moved with confidence, a small gap spreading between them as the redhead’s eyes adjusted. As she was lead deeper into the mountainside Emma picked up her pace, catching up with her guide just as they reached the bottom. A heavy metal door stood at the bottom, the space barely lit by what little light managed to beam down from outside.

“Shoes.” Yumao stopped just shy of opening the door and glared down at the younger woman’s dusty runners.

“Right…sorry.”

With a metallic creak Yumao shifted the heavy door, her nose wrinkling with effort. Emma felt a little guilty for not helping as the door dragged. She was no expert on doorways but if she had to guess Emma suspected this was not one that got used very often. It was a short-lived train of thought and when the next room was revealed through the open frame the once-eager journalist forget all about her door-centric ponderings. Yumao gestured for her guest to enter and started the arduous process of closing the door again once Emma walked by.

“Wow.” Emma whispered to herself as she examined the large room, the space hardly seeming like the same decrepit building as the one she’d just left behind. With a high ceiling and beautifully tiled floors, large round pillars stood spaced out down either side of a wide rectangular pool. Ornate artwork climbed each pillar, the skilled craftsmanship of whoever built this place obvious in across every inch.

“Wait here.” Yumao secured the door with a definitive click.

“I…” Emma began before realizing doing as she was told was her only sensible course of action. “Okay.”

With her phone back in her bag, and her phone bill very much overdue anyway, Emma had no way to tell time. It was perhaps ten or fifteen minutes before Yumao returned, the time mostly spent feeling a sense of anxious hope and cautious relief. Relief at perhaps finally finding Madam Ui and relief that she was no long peddling up a winding, dusty mountain road in the middle of nowhere. When Yumao walked back in from an entranceway on the far end of the room she did so with a white fluffy towel folded nearly in her arms. Atop the towel was a small cloth and pair of slippers not dissimilar to Yumao’s own. She stopped halfway down the right hand side of the pool and placed the assorted items gently on the floor near the edge.

“You wash.” Yumao stood upright.

“Uh…” Emma wasn’t against the idea of getting clean, far from it, however despite her recent history she did remain somewhat sheepish about strangers seeing her unclothed. “I don’t have a swimsuit.” She gave a small smile to try and pass off the joke, Yumao’s own expression remaining quite plain in response.

“No wash, no see Ui.”

Emma sighed, bashfulness wouldn’t stop her from getting the story. Or getting revenge, whichever it was she was after now. Hooking her thumbs under her beltline the curvy girl wiggled her hips, sliding her shorts down over her well-rounded butt. As she let the shorts fall by her knees Emma glanced up to see Yumao still standing halfway along the poolside. “Are you…going to stay there or…?” The apparently concise older woman stayed silent, her sharp features giving nothing away as to her thoughts.

Stepping out of her shorts Emma figured she’d been in less clothes in much worse situations than this. Leaning over she pinched the end of one small white sock and pulled it off, her tiny barefoot cool against the tile when she put it down. After plucking off her other sock Emma stood upright and started to slowly tug up her shirt, her cheeks warming with a gentle blush as her midriff came into view. Up and over her bra, Emma’s freckled cleavage ballooned up, her large bosoms squished together behind each cup. Only then did the nearly nude girl remember which panties she was wearing, a frilly pink pair that mismatched with her plain white bra. She tossed the shirt down into the pile and felt a little bad for the mess, then took a step toward the invitingly calm water.

“Ah.” Yumao held up one disapproving index finger, which stopped Emma in her tracks. That same finger dropped slightly, the tip pointing back and forth between the scantily clad girl’s tight-fitting bra and lacy panties.

“Do you think you could turn around maybe or…” Emma trailed off into defeated silence as she looked down at her voluptuous, creamy white body. Reaching awkwardly behind herself and arching her back a little, she fumbled at her bra clasp. Whatever her reservations about getting undressed in front of a complete stranger, Emma had to admit the feeling of relief across her chest as the bra snapped loose was almost worth the embarrassment.

Sliding the shoulder straps down her arms, Emma dropped the well-worn bra into her other well-worn clothes. A small showing of goosebumps spread across her newly naked breasts as the open air felt chill against the sweat-slicked undersides. Left in only her panties Emma did much the same as she had with her shorts, hooking her thumbs under each side and slipping them downward. With a butt as shapely as hers she had to reach back a little, pulling the lacy underwear down passed her thick thighs before letting them drop. Cupping one hand over the short red hairs between her legs, Emma looked to Yumao for approval and felt a peculiar flutter in her lower tummy upon making eye contact with the unflinching woman.

Yumao nodded ever-so-slightly and Emma shook off that odd flutter as she made way for the pool. Walking slowly, small dimples formed on the outer sides of her bare butt with each step, Yumao’s eyes following the naked journalist intently. At the edge the fully nude girl gingerly stepped down onto a small set of stairs, the second step dipping her tiny toes into warm water. Feeling the soft caress of the pool Emma closed her eyes, Yumao could watch all she liked for all she cared, it was the most relaxed she’d felt in weeks. Moving further into the pool the water rose up her thighs, every inch washing away the weeks and months of hard travel.

“Mmm…” Emma cooed softly as she moved toward the middle of the large pool, the water lapping gently under her collarbone. She spread her arms out and lifted one foot, only just standing on the tips of her toes as she floated without a care. Scarcely a moment later two young women strolled in through the far door, both of them entirely naked.

Yumao gestured one open palm toward the nude girls. “Luli and Wei.” The pair of them started down the steps into the water, each one carrying a small white cloth, the tiniest hint of a smirk at the corner of each girl’s lips. “They will help you wash.”

“Help me…? Oh-oh no, that’s okay.” Feeling decidedly a good bit more uncomfortable than she had a second before Emma put one hand up, waving it in a polite decline.

As Luli and Wei slinked their slender bodies into the water small ripples spread across the surface. Once touching down on the pool floor one girl smoothly drifted left while the other eased to the right, their eyes locked on their guest like sly sharks. Emma could feel herself blushing again, her cheeks flushing hot as she shifted focus rapidly back and forth between the advancing girls. That strange flutter reared itself again, lower this time, so low in fact it could barely be considered in the area of her tummy anymore. Slowly starting to back away Emma swallowed, the thought of Luli and Wei putting their hands on her shapely body doing nothing to calm the flutter between her thighs.

“You must be very clean for Ui.” Yumao said as the slow pursuit continued throughout the pool. “Ui will see no dirty guest.”

“I-I-I’ll get clean!” Emma stammered, surprised at how effortlessly fast the new arrivals were cutting through the water. “I swear, I don’t need help, really!” Luli and Wei were so close she had to turn her head back and forth to look between them. “I-I’m serious, really, no help necessary!”

Wei, or Luli, whoever it was on her right moved up to Emma’s side. With barely a couple of feet between them the redhead turned, her hands raised and palms open. Emma smiled, doing her best to stay polite as she stepped back, Wei coming toward her with the little cloth in one hand. Deep down the frustrating flutter took a turn for the worse as it upgraded to a titillating tingling sensation, the whole scenario causing the frizzy haired girl no end of confusion. With the gap closing quickly between her and Wei, Emma tried to push backward a little faster, only to feel a sudden brush against one side.

“Eeii!” Tensing upright the surprised girl snapped her elbows down by her sides and shot a look back behind her. Luli, smiling eagerly, waved her small washcloth just above the surface. “S-seriously, seriously!” Emma turned between the two girls, both index fingers raised at the pair. Until that quick touch it somehow hadn’t occurred to the hopelessly sensitive journalist that having the two girls touch her might tickle, and the realization dropped on her like a ten-ton weight.

“Deeii!” Emma squealed again when Wei sneakily swept a corner of her cloth just above the flinching girl’s hip. “Yumao!” She looked to the older woman standing at the pool’s edge, her expression unmoved by the shameful lack of composure before her. “Yumao tell-tell them no, tell them not to!” A familiar panic was speeding up the redhead’s heartbeat, there was no way she could get through being washed by these two nubile girls without losing her mind.

“They only want to wash you.” Yumao said plainly. “Stay still, let them do their job.”

“I can’t! I cahan’t!” Jumping from a gentle stroke across her back the buxom girl dashed forward, her hefty breasts breaching the surface before splashing back down. “Really, please, I’m telling yoohoohooeehehe!” Both girls poked their cloths into Emma’s sides making her squirm and wriggle like a buffoon.

“What is wrong with you?” Yumao frowned. “Are you drunk?”

“No, no I’m just-“ Emma spun about, she couldn’t bring herself to say the word. After everything she’d gone through, the things she’d seen and the things that had been done to her, it was a fact she kept well buried. Seeing there was no immediate way to outrun Luli and Wei, Emma puffed her freckled cheeks out with a deep breath and dived under the water.

Other than the gentle sweeping of her own limbs, silence hit the nude girl’s ears. Never the athlete, Emma wasn’t a strong a swimmer, still she only needed a little distance. Enough of a gap between her and the cloth-wielding girls to think straight, enough to explain why she needed no assistance, or at least explain without really explaining. Damn that tingling between her thighs, Emma thought as she pushed on, her legs spread as her arms thrust forward to a point and pushed back. Something touched the back of her thigh and Emma swam faster. Another touch poked her right butt cheek far sooner than she expected and small bubbles escaped her pursed lips.

“Mm!” Emma jerked her hips when something brushed along the front of her right thigh, almost instantly followed by a soft stroke against the left of her abdomen. “Mm! Mmm!” Her muffled whine grew louder under the water, a reaction she couldn’t stop as the random prodding escalated to speedy pokes up both her sides. “Eiieeeheehee!” Emma burst from the water, arms flailing as her involuntary grin let out the last of her air in a spasm of high pitch giggles.

“You are drunk.” Yumao was still frowning.

“Eeehaha! Eeeinoho!” Emma twisted and turned, her big bosoms jiggling as she bounced around between the two perky girls. “I’m not drunk!” She squealed through panicked laughter, Wei and Luli pressing in close as they fondled her lower torso. “Ahaha! Stop! Stopstopahaah! I’m ticklish! I’m tiheeheeheeno!”

Crushingly the confession, hard as it was to make, fell on deaf ears. Maybe Luli and Wei simply didn’t understand, though in her splashing fervor Emma suspected Yumao probably got the message. There was no diving away now, the bosomy girl couldn’t have taken a deep breath for all the money in the world. Pokey washcloth corners and rogue fingertips were everywhere around her, darting along her lower ribs and trailing around her tummy. Emma’s soaked hair whipped across her reddened face, her glistening boobs bouncing wildly as she slapped at the water.

Grabbing at the younger girls’ swiftly moving hands was proving to be an almost impossible task. Emma had never been much good at defending herself from tickling on dry land, some might even say terrible. Uncoordinated as she was in her fitfully giggling state the water made fighting back painfully worse, any offending wrist or finger she did manage to snag easily slipped free a split second later. Caught between Luli and Wei and their four arms and twenty fingers poor Emma was rapidly turning from world-weary traveler to giggling moron. Every bit of determination, anger and guilt, all of it chased away and it only took a few light pokes to send her mind reeling.

“You silly girl.” Yumao shook her head, her disdain going unnoticed by the frantic redhead in the pool. “This is no place for foolish games.”

“Please! Eheehaha!” Emma gasped, spinning helpless from Luli to Wei and back again as the girls pinched her abdomen and stroked their cloths across her hypersensitive skin. “Not-ahahano! Notagame! Eeiehestop!”

To match her blushing cheeks the pleading girl’s forehead was rosy red too, all of it a result of what Emma hoped was nothing more than disastrous indignity. Trapped there between those slyly smiling younger women, the squirming redhead was trying and failing to ignore a growing warmth between her thighs. Tickling, of all things in the world, Emma dreaded it with the deepest of anxieties. To be tickled was to lose all control, her studious mind and horrifically sensitive body, it stripped her of all she was and turned her into a mindlessly laughing twit, a side of her she never wanted to know. It was about the worst torment Emma could imagine, until the witch Jai Lin had shown her otherwise.

Under Jai Lin’s devastatingly skilled fingers Emma was wrenched into a world of suffering beyond any she thought herself capable of surviving. Six months ago almost to the day Jai Lin had turned the freckled girl’s body into a playground of nightmares, made her scream and laugh and cry and beg for mercy that would never come. It was by no contest the most degrading and hellish experience of Emma’s life. And, to the young journalist’s infinite remorse and confusion, it had also been the most dreadfully erotic.

Before that day the thought of getting aroused from being tickled would have been absurd to the extreme, but she had lived it. Against every ounce of willpower Emma had been pushed to the edge of ecstasy and beyond, her own body used against her in torturous seduction. Jai Lin had done something to her that day, awakened or created a terrible thing that once let loose could not be caged. Every time Emma woke up soaked in sweat and wet between her thighs from another nightmare she would curse Jai Lin’s name. As Wei and Luli’s quick fingers pinched at her naked body Emma found once again reason to curse the witch.

“Ohplease! Ehehee! Ohpleasestopahaha!” Emma’s normally frizzy hair whipped in straightened water-heavy locks, her pink nipples noticeably swollen as she splashed. “Make them stop!” She starred wide-eyed to the stoic Yumao, her voice cracking with high-pitched laughter. “Mahayaheehe! Makethemstahahap!”

“No English.” Yumao said with what might have been the barest hint of a smile.

Though she wasn’t able to wipe the contorting grin from her face, Emma couldn’t imagine what there was to smile about. Her face twisted wildly from furrowed brows and wide-mouthed misery to a look of desperate surprise and bimbo-like giddiness. Behind it all was an ever-growing frustration, the anger Emma felt from being powerless and forced to laugh no matter how hard she tried to suppress it. Why anyone would want to cause those awful feelings in another human being she couldn’t understand, though it was clear Luli and Wei must have found some appeal as their nimble fingertips found the squishy sides of Emma’s breasts.

“Eeiiieheeheenoho!” Crisscrossing her arms to cover herself the busty girl knocked their hands away, only for five fingers to dive down each side and pinch playfully at her ribs. “Yihaha! Ohnopleahahaha!”

With a howl Emma leapt forward, more fingers finding her tummy and sending her recoiling backward. Luli’s nails –or maybe they were Wei’s- danced up one butt cheek and made her squeal, the hectically giggling girl almost leaping halfway out the water. Falling back with a large splash into the waiting hands of her attackers Emma would have sooner leapt into a pool of piranhas. In the fraction of a moment before their fingers were on her again Emma noticed the washcloths, both discarded and floating aimlessly away. Evidently the pretense of being bathed had been dropped entirely, a fact reinforced by Wei and Luli’s twenty combined fingers rushing straight toward her naked body.

“EIIEHEE!” Emma wailed, throwing herself about madly as the two girls clawed at her from either side. She wished at the very least they had trapped her while clothed, then perhaps the alarm bells of being so atrociously vulnerable wouldn’t have been blaring quite so loud. Perhaps the quivering between her thighs might not have been so intense either, or her stiffened nipples maybe not so rigidly aroused.

In her feverish state some part of Emma’s whirling mind thought maybe being fondled by Wei and Luli wouldn’t have been altogether terrible, if it weren’t for the tickling. They were very pretty, their toned bodies pressing and brushing against her, their flirty little smiles making her heart skip. Then again it might have all been Jai Lin’s wickedness confusing her, it wasn’t like Emma ever had an intimate interest in girls before that demoness had her way with her. As one of Wei’s teasing fingertips whisked across the redhead’s puffy areole a terrible idea occurred to Emma. Maybe it no longer mattered who was doing the tickling, but that the tickling itself was the very thing sending her libido into orbit.

“I cahaha! I can’t!” Emma squawked, her fruitless efforts to protect herself quickly becoming even more pitiful. Frolicking fingers seemed to be everywhere at once, poking her belly and wiggling across her ribs. For all her reaching and squirming, for all the spinning around desperately to catch hands that were already somewhere else by the time she got there, none of it mattered. Luli and Wei had Emma at their mercy and the increasingly delirious girl was losing her ability to reason, all the while her unruly levels of lust had long since spiraled out of control.

Emma wanted to sink, to drop to the pool floor and stay there. If nothing else the sweet embrace of the water might give her some brief respite from the nonstop onslaught of fiendish fingers. Letting her kicking legs out from under her the bewildered girl started to drop, only for Luli and Wei to press in against her from either side. Keeping Emma afloat the two girls squished themselves up to her sides, their arms hugging around her midsection and fingertips crawling around her back and heaving stomach. Caught between them, the helpless girl’s legs flailed uselessly, her curvaceous body shaking as she laughed and plead.

Before Emma could even begin to think of a way out she felt a diabolical caress against her left ear. With a shrill yelp the surprised girl snapped one shoulder up to cover that side of her head, only for a similarly cruel sensation to accost her right earlobe. Shrugging both shoulders high like a poor impression of a turtle, Emma giggled loudly as Luli and Wei both nibbled at her ears, the two-sided tease driving her into wide-eyed lunacy. She tried rocking forward but with arms wrapped around her there was nowhere to go, and jerking backward held no more success. With hot breath against her upper neck the poor girl shook her head, shrieking wordlessly when the very tips of Luli and Wei’s tongues slipped around the backs of her ears.

“EIIEEHEEHEE!” Emma’s legs were kicking out in front of her, her entire spasming body held up by the wicked pair of attackers. Fingers explored down her trembling thighs and around her midriff, the crazed girl’s face beet red and her eyes almost permanently aghast. With every crippling stroke across her defenseless skin Emma found it more and more difficult to create words, those few she did manage broken and cracked by laughter. “EEEHEENAH! PLEEEHEEASE! PLEHEEHEEASE!”

Ignoring their catch, Wei and Luli each let the hands they had around Emma’s front wander higher. Pinching and playing over her supple ribs, their sharp little nails soon found the undersides of her bouncing breasts. In unison the two girls let their fingers dance around, gradually moving up the outer sides where they poked and prodded. By the time the playful pair found the sprinkling of freckles across the top of Emma’s chest she was livid with laughter, thrashing like someone had dropped a high voltage wire in the pool. As their five fingers atop each bosom shifted downward toward her achingly swelled nipples their other hands did not sit idle. Hugging Emma around her back, Wei and Luli each kept a hand at her lower ribs, their fingertips constantly drilling into the soft spots between.

Sizzling hot to the point Emma feared the water might boil around her, the helplessly amorous girl squealed with wordless agony as fingertips feathered across her nipples. Her weakly slapping hands reached up to stop them but every time she did Luli and Wei would claw viciously at her ribs with their other hands. At the sides of her head the devious girls continued to nibble Emma’s preposterously ticklish ears, their darting tongue-tips licking around her upper neck. Mindless with laughter the manic girl couldn’t tell what was worse, the tickling or how distressingly horny she was.

“You are supposed to be getting clean!” Yumao snapped when the triple-pronged tickle attack abruptly stopped. “Even from here I can see you are filthier than when you arrived!”

“Uhh…uhh…” Emma wheezed, a single tear trickling down one of her fiery hot cheeks. Soaking locks of hair matted to her face and neck, her sides and abdomen were pink where the girls’ fingers had run wild and free. Were it not for Luli and Wei holding her at the elbows Emma would have sunk like a tickle-addled stone.

“Bring her to me.” Yumao said sternly.

“N…nuh…no…” Emma writhed weakly as she felt hands press against her back, the two girls guiding her toward the side of the pool. Even the gentle touch Luli and Wei’s hands against her skin made the redhead’s stomach tighten with arousal, their firm grips around her forearms turning her on even more. Looking up at Yumao, Emma had no idea what the older woman had in mind for her but she knew it couldn’t be good. “P-please…” She stammered still trying to catch her breath and reassemble her fractured thoughts. “I…I just…want to talk…”

“Mm, so you said.” In one elegant motion Yumao kneeled down by the poolside. “You will talk to me now.”

“N-no…what are you doing?!” As the two girls lifted her arms out of the water Emma struggled, twisting her hips and putting her feet against the wall of the pool as they dragged her near. “Eii!” She squeaked when Luli poked a single fingertip just above her hip, the nude prisoner’s feet slipping from the wall. “I-I’ll talk! I’ll tell you anything you want to know!” Emma winced as her arms were stretched out of the pool, her big cushy breasts ballooning as they pressed against the edge.

Yumao took hold of the redhead’s slender wrists, her grip surprisingly strong as she pinned Emma’s hands to the floor. “Few enter the way you did. Who told you of this place?”

“I-“ Emma hesitated, a good journalist never gives up a confidential source, though given the consequences she was more than willing to break that particular rule.

“Tickle her.” Yumao said before Emma could spill the beans.

“No waiHEYHEHEE!” She bucked, tugging hard at her trapped arms as Wei and Luli each wriggled a single index finger into her defenseless underarms. Throwing her head back, Emma wailed with laughter, her shapely ass dancing beneath the water as her bare feet fought in slippery panic to push against the wall. “PLEASEI’LLTALK! EEEHEEHEE!”

“What do you want with Ui?” Yumao demanded when the two girls stopped, both of them looming close.

“Please! Please I just-“ Emma blubbered, the fear of being tickled again making her wince as she tried hurriedly to compose herself. Yumao simply nodded, and Luli and Wei set their fingers to work again. “EEEIIHEE!”

Clawing helplessly at the floor between Yumao’s knees, Emma kicked violently while teasing nails danced around her bare ass cheeks. As her hefty bosoms pressed and squished into the wall, water squirted up across the squealing girl’s freckled chest. Of all the places she had ever been tickled her shapely butt was one of the most sensitive, and as a result one of the most intolerably arousing. Part of Jai Lin’s curse, Emma was discovering in her fervor, the more painfully ticklish something was the more it seemed to turn her on. She had hoped over the months that such a thing would be restricted to her nightmares, yet now she was living one.

“I just…a second….just a second…to think!” Emma gasped, rubbing her thighs together without thought. Luli and Wei stood poised for more and the ever-present threat caused an unintentional giggle to bubble in the redhead’s heaving chest.

“No think, only talk.” Even Yumao’s stern tone had become a cause of titillation, Emma was a catastrophic mess of lewd torment.

From either side Luli and Wei pounced, their twenty fingers running amok. Nowhere was safe, rolling from side to side as best she could against the wall there was no move Emma could make that gave her any respite. Fingertips roamed her convulsing tummy and darted up her sides, ribs were pinched and underarms were burrowed into. At no point in the latest round of menace was there a singular second one of the girls wasn’t stroking Emma’s bouncing butt cheeks. Squealing herself into a frenzy the ravaged girl could feel her sanity slipping, the prospect of answering Yumao’s question going right along with it.

“You work for Jai Lin!” Yumao barked after a full minute, or maybe it was ten.

“No! No I-“

“Tickle her!”

“AAAHAHAAA!” Emma wailed, in part from Yumao’s crushing accusation. One of Wei’s deft fingertips drilled into her belly button. Luli moved behind and set about clawing with particular viciousness at Emma’s ribs. The thought she could be free if they’d only let her explain ricocheted madly around her mind.

Luli’s rib assault dug savagely deep, her sneaky digits jabbing frequently into the ballooning sides of Emma’s breasts. Where Wei kept that one finger drilling dutifully into the shrieking girl’s navel her other hand had even wickeder torments in mind. Stealthily Wei’s free hand dived down, scribbled across the redhead’s lower tummy and delved between her thighs. Five tiny fingertips danced through the short fiery hairs and Emma crossed her legs in a clumsy, flailing attempt to protect her excruciatingly sensitive pussy.

“Confess!” Yumao ordered.

Emma could barely see straight, let alone think. Tears started to blur her vision and the rapidly increasing danger of her libido erupting made everything worse. Breathless, the poor girl had to speak up, had to clear the air and-

“You come for Jai Lin!” When the older woman spoke Emma’s toes curled, each shrill command and accusation as terrifying as they were arousing. “How do you know about this place?!”

“I swear!” Emma wheezed. “I don’t- I-“

“Tickle her feet!”

“NO WAIT!” In unison Wei and Luli dropped beneath the surface, their eager hands immediately pawing at Emma’s ankles. “PLEASE PLEASE! You don’t understand!” She looked up to Yumao with wide, pleading eyes and found a pitiless stare in return. Kicking as she begged, Emma tugged and twisted while the girls under water wrestled her lower legs into their arms. “I don’t work for Jai Lin! I’ll swear on anything!” She stressed, her voice cracking at the thought of what Luli and Wei were intending to do.

“That is exactly what an agent of Jai Lin would say.” Yumao said in the same moment both Luli and Wei came up behind Emma, a struggling leg each wrapped under one arm.

“Noho! Nono!” Emma chocked back a sob, her naked body stretched back through the water as both her ankles were held in the crooks of the young women’s arms. “I’m not an agent! I’m not anything! I want to stop her!”

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t.” Yumao leaned in a little closer. “Soon we will know for certain.”

“NO AWNO PLEA-“ Emma shook, jerking madly at her legs, her bare butt cheeks bobbing up from under the water and glistening in the light. As nimble fingers wiggled softly across both her trapped soles the frenzied girl would have confessed to anything in the world. “-EEIIIGGHAHAHAHA!”

Thick tears streamed down Emma’s stretched cheeks as screaming laughter echoed around the lavish room. Arching her back hard, the hysterical girl splashed furiously in her captive state, the feeling of five tiny fingers racing around each bare foot driving her completely mad. Every tiny stroke propelled Emma’s fuming libido to new heights, her nipples swollen to the point of pain. From her marshmallowy soft heels Luli and Wei raced their devilish fingers downward, scouring their victim’s silky soles and raking cruelly across the tender balls of each foot.

“Tell the truth!” Yumao demanded, the words going unheard by her tickle-crazed prisoner. “Tell me! Tickle her harder!” Somehow Emma did manage to catch that last bit and the thought sent her careering straight to the very edge of inevitable climax.

Ever obedient, Wei and Luli followed Yumao’s command with devastating results. Skillful digits frolicked along the bottoms of Emma’s tiny toes. Bucking almost entirely out of the water, the wanton redhead let out a piercing screech, her toes spreading wide. Taking the opening as an invitation, the two cunning water-nymphs dug their fingers directly under Emma’s toes, wriggling mercilessly while she spasmed and splashed. Flexing her bouncing ass tight, thigh muscles squeezed and a storm of tingles crackled up the maddened girl’s spine. Emma’s shrill laughter was interrupted by hoarse moans as she braced for her nightmares to become reality, then the tickling stopped.

Yumao bent forward, her lips stroking against Emma’s ear as she spoke softly. “Why…are…you…here?”

“Pleeaheeheese!” Emma giggled, turning her head uselessly. The question meant nothing, she was beyond the point of no return and the only thing that mattered now was how horrendous the carnal display would be. “Y-you have to stopeehehee!”

“I have to do no such thing…”

“Nohoho!” Emma’s pussy throbbed, she could feel the distinct warmth of orgasm swelling between her thighs. “You don’t understaahahand!” They had to let her go, they had to. She wanted to run and curl up in a dark corner somewhere. “I’m-I’m gonna! Awhh!” A squeaky moan escaped Emma’s lips as she writhed, tugging weakly against all those hands holding her naked body against in place. “I’m gonna c-“

Fingers spidered up and down Emma’s upturned feet. The sudden excruciating shock let loose a thunderous orgasm, primal pleasure ravaging her struggling body. Emma’s scream was so loud even Yumao winced, though it didn’t slow Wei or Luli. Deft digits sped wildly around the thrashing redhead’s bare feet, her laughter locked in fierce battle with a cacophony of unhinged moans. Every cruel stroke across her soles was like tossing TNT onto a raging fire, the severity of Emma’s orgasm growing with every second. Her tiny toes curled tight, her soles wrinkling and receiving only more tickling for their trouble. Emma’s ass cheeks flexed hard and her thighs trembled, the explosive fit of torturous bliss causing her body to become outrageously more sensitive than just a few short moments before.

Luli and Wei continued tickling, merciless in their fiendish assault across Emma’s soles. That first orgasm rolled into a second and that one careened unforgivingly into a third, the snowball effect turning quickly into an avalanche of mind-bending delirium. Thick beads of sweat coated Emma’s bright red forehead, the soles of her painfully sensitive feet pink where fingers had run wild for minutes on end. By the time the two girls finally relented their diabolical game Emma was trembling, twitching mess of orgasmic jello.

Hands grabbed at her and lifted, the disheveled journalist cooing weakly as the three women dragged her out of the pool. They lay Emma on an open towel, it’s small fluffy fronds like feathers against her inhumanly sensitive skin. “I…don’t…” She said with what miniscule strength she could muster, her voice a mousy squeak between raspy breaths. “I don’t…work…for Jai Lin.”

Yumao sat on her knees and leaned down. “Okay.” She kissed Emma gently on the forehead. “I believe you.”

Chapter Three: The Lottlinn Meeting​

As the big-wigs shuffled in, all smirking and impressed with themselves, Hannah stood at the head of Harry Deveno Jr.’s enormous boardroom. To the right of her was a door, then a giant TV that could retract back into the wall. To the left, floor to ceiling windows with a view of San Francisco’s downtown core. A few feet ahead sat the obnoxiously long boardroom table, around it a dozen uncomfortable looking, obscenely expensive chairs. The executives and analysts and lawyers and whatever other stuffed-suit-men filed in from the far end of the room. Hannah did her best to look sure of herself, and ignore each fellow’s shameless gaze as they looked her up and down.

The last to enter was Harry’s closest advisor, John Quieter. A stern man in his late 60s, John had been Harold Senior’s top lawyer until the elder Deveno’s somewhat mysterious passing many years before. Junior had gone on to make Quieter the head of his corporate legal department. He sported a fine dark suit and bushy grey eyebrows. Tailing nervously behind the top legal mind of the Deveno Corporation was the new paralegal, Cindy Reid. Cindy had no business being at a meeting of this magnitude and everyone knew it, but what Harry Deveno Junior wants, Harry Deveno Junior gets.

Some assistant or secretary closed the door behind the last of the men to arrive. A few conversations took place among the suits as they took their seats, a couple were business related and one fellow whined about his wife. As best Hannah could tell most of them men either boasted about their golf game or made fun of someone else’s. Suitably, John Quieter took his position to the immediate right of the head of the table. Harry Deveno’s right hand man, as ever. Cindy Reid sat beside the old lawyer, her eyes fixed on the tabletop.

“Gentlemen…” Harry sauntered in from the door beside the TV. The large room fell silent and all eyes turned to the man who owned the building. “Not that I don’t like you all, but I’d sooner be out on my yacht.” The whole room laughed, a couple of the men much louder than was warranted. Even the anxious paralegal managed a halfhearted smile. Harry ran a hand through his well-kept hair and scratched the back of his head, his tone turning a good bit more serious. “You all know what we’re dealing with here. I want this deal to go through and I want it today. I’m told Gwendolyn is just about set up on her end, right?” He turned to Hannah and she nodded. “Good. We won’t be able to tame the dragon but let’s at least see if we can get it to behave for once.” The room laughed again.

A few minutes later Harry’s stepmother called. Gwendolyn Deveno had been Harold Senior’s fourth wife, much to his son’s chagrin. The list of things about Gwendolyn that angered Harry Jr. was long indeed, not the least of which was that they were practically the same age. Number one on the list however, was that the long time widow owned exactly fifty percent of the family business. No big decision could ever get made without both Harry and Gwendolyn agreeing on it, a feat so monumental it was a wonder they hadn’t gone bankrupt twenty years ago.

“Gwen.” Harry said, hardly managing to hide his disdain.

“Junior.” Gwendolyn smiled sweetly on the TV screen. She was a striking woman, a fact emphasized by the fact she sat with her feet up on a sun-lounger by some poolside. In what was no doubt a calculated look for a room full of leering men the bosomy blonde wore a loose fitting wrap, her hefty cleavage and long legs putting on quite a show. A pair of sandals sat idle beside her chair, her bare feet just off screen. Gwendolyn sat up slightly and pulled back the sunglasses from her face, blue eyes looking right into the camera. “I don’t know why you’re bothering with all this.” She said. “You know my decision.”

“Well-“ Harry feigned a welcoming demeanor. “-we hope to convince you otherwise.”

What followed was forty-five minutes of back and forth between Harry and his small army, and Gwendolyn who appeared to have no one beside herself. The topic of debate was the potential purchase of Lotlinn Shipping and Logistics, a much sought after Dutch company, which Harry believed could net them enormous profits. Gwendolyn thought otherwise, and without her signing off there would be no purchase and none of the giant stacks of money Harry was envisioning. While a lot of the conversation went over Hannah’s head, in her amateur estimation it seemed as though Harry and Co. were making a compelling case. In fact as far as the young P.A could tell it seemed the only reason Gwendolyn wasn’t agreeing to the deal was because she knew it would enrage her stepson.

“Look, I’m sorry gentlemen-“ Gwendolyn interrupted one of the analysts who was tapping enthusiastically on a graph. “-I can see you’ve all worked very hard on this, but I’m just not seeing it.”

“If my father were alive-“ Harry began, one fist clenched hard behind his back.

“Well, he’s not.” The unwavering woman cut him off. “He entrusted us to see the business right because he knew we’d be strongest when we agree. This Lottlin deal isn’t going ahead, Harry, and that’s the end of it.”

“I was going to say…” Harry said sharply. “If my father were alive I’m certain he would be able to change your mind.”

“And as I said, our dear Harold isn’t here. It’s a moot point, Junior.”

Gwendolyn looked like she was about to say something else but Harry talked first. In the second before he spoke, Hannah noticed her boss’s body language shift. His fist unclenched and his shoulders relaxed. An odd calm replaced his temper, which had looked like it was about to boil over just seconds before. “You remember how good he was at changing your mind, don’t you Gwen?” Harry’s tone turned mildly smug.

“We’re done here-“

“One moment,-“ Harry put up a single finger. “-hold on. Perhaps we should meet in person, don’t you think? Just you and I. It’s been a few years. I could convince you, the way my father used to.”

Gwendolyn scoffed. “Really Harry, if this is what it’s come to…don’t embarrass yourself.”

“Oh, I’m not embarrassed!” He shrugged, making quite a show of it as he wandered slowly toward the right hand side of the table. “In fact, I daresay if I were tell all these fine men here how my father used to go about changing your mind so effectively you’d be the one blushing, don’t you think?”

“Good bye, Harry.” Gwendolyn waved a dismissive hand to someone off screen. “Gentlemen.” And then the TV went blank.

“Hm.” Harry stared at the dark screen, a look of mild amusement across his face. He wandered behind John Quieter and came to a stop right behind the sheepish paralegal. “Not to worry. While my esteemed partner there might think negotiations have ended I promise you all, they are very much ongoing.“ Harry bought his hands up and gently placed a large palm over each of the young paralegal’s shoulders.

Cindy tensed up and Hannah caught herself cringing with sympathy. She recalled just a few short hours before when those very same hands had been crawling all over her. Cindy can’t have known about Harry’s unusual handsy games, Hannah thought, the pair hadn’t even met before that moment. Instinct maybe, Hannah thought, or being one of only two young women in a room full of older men. It was intimidating enough, to say nothing of having the man they all looked to single you out.

“You see gentlemen-“ Harry continued, his grip firm around the busty younger woman’s shoulders. “-my so called stepmother, Mrs. Deveno, happens to suffer from an extraordinary affliction not entirely uncommon among some people. My father in his wisdom was quite adept at using that affliction to his advantage.” Harry leaned down and put his lips uncomfortably close to Cindy’s ear. “Can you guess what the affliction is, Miss Reid?”

Cindy tilted her head away slowly, not wanting to look like she was recoiling too fast. “N-no?” She said shakily.

“Take notes gentlemen-“ Harry stood upright, his hands still cupped over the girl’s shoulders. “-for the next time your mistress is threatening to tell your wife-“ All the men laughed. “-I shall demonstrate how to change her mind!”

As Harry’s left hand slid down the paralegal’s bicep, Hannah cringed. She knew exactly what was about to happen to the poor girl but there wasn’t a thing in the world she could do about it. At least whenever Harry had decided to get handsy with her there hadn’t been an audience, Hannah thought. Cindy’s only hope was that she wasn’t half so sensitive as Hannah.

“Eii!” Cindy jerked sharply to her right as one of Mr. Deveno’s fingertips prodded gently into her upper ribcage. By the look on her face it seemed she’d have jumped clean out of her chair were it not for that large hand pressing down on her shoulder. In an instant Cindy’s cheeks blushed bright red, her fists clenched in front of her as she sat tense.

“Have you guessed the affliction now, Miss Reid?” Harry’s hand darted down behind the table and goosed quickly at Cindy’s side.

Her eyes shot wide and loud giggles poured from her full lips as she wriggled. Twisting awkwardly in her chair, Cindy clamped both hands down to defend against Mr. Deveno’s roaming fingers, his other hand easily holding her in place. As a pained expression contorted across her laughing face Cindy’s large bosoms bounced beneath her blouse, every pair of eyes in the room fixed squarely upon her. With her long hair flicking every which way it appeared there was little room for saving any dignity or composure, Cindy’s every ounce of effort put toward stopping the large man standing behind her.

For Hannah’s part it was all she could do not to run out of the room. The sense of second hand embarrassment she felt for the squealing paralegal came in just behind her own dreaded fear. As Cindy squeaked and struggled the atmosphere in the room was quickly shifting, the previously stuffy bunch of men gradually starting to look more like a frat party than a business meeting. They were sitting up, leaning closer, making no attempt to disguise their already transparent gazes. To say Hannah was uncomfortable would have been an understatement for the ages. She felt a trickle of nervous sweat run down the back of her neck as she took a half step backward, pressing her back into the wall in an impossible attempt to disappear right through it.

“Any luck, Miss Reid?” Harry teased and slid his other hand off the frazzled girl’s shoulder and down to other side.

“Eiieeha!” Cindy spun about as she was tickled from both sides, her back arching and her hands slapping loudly against the tabletop. “Ehahaha! M-Mister Devenohohaha!” The distressed girl shook, dancing clumsily in her seat and crashing back and forth between the table edge and her chair. “N-no more eeheehee!”

She couldn’t escape and the dozen men were leering in earnest, even John Quieter wasn’t being shy about watching the terrible show beside him. Hannah wanted to say something, to put a stop to this madness but she couldn’t imagine how Mr. Deveno would respond. Worse still, she dreaded how Mr. Deveno might treat her once they were alone. For all the humiliation and pity she felt for Cindy, Hannah simply couldn’t risk having everything come undone.

“See how she fights it?” Harry flashed his boisterous grin around the room. “Get yourselves a lady like Miss Reid here and she’ll fulfill your every desire! And if not-“ His wiggling fingers turned to crushing lobster claws and he dug in hard just above Cindy’s gyrating hips.

“EIIIHEE!” She sat up fast and threw her head back as she squealed loudly, collapsing back down again and grabbing at Harry’s hands. “Stop! Ahahaha! Stoppleeheeheese!”

Without thinking Hannah brushed her own side, her skin tingling with sympathy. One of the men, a sneering slick-haired executive, had one arm propped up on his elbow and was wiggling his fingers in the air in Cindy’s direction. Most of them were grinning as they watched her laugh and plead for the indignity to end, one had half his bottom lip between his teeth and an eyebrow raised. The analyst with the graph was busy nudging the guy next to him, the pair of them evidently thrilled by Cindy’s helpless suffering.

Harry took a big step backward, rolling the chair and Cindy away from the table. “And if she doesn’t do what you want right away boys, just keeping tickling until she does!”

He spun the chair a full 180 degrees and caught the arms, the hapless blonde flailing around as she came face to face with Mr. Deveno. With the table no longer obscuring her view Hannah could see Cindy wore sheer nylon stockings, a fact made clear as she was only wearing one shoe. The other heel, it seemed, had come off somewhere under the table during the struggle. Before Cindy could gather herself from the spiraling ride Harry had dropped to his knees right in front of her, his hands snapping out and clawing wildly at her cotton covered tummy.

“Nohoeeeieee!” She buckled over, her legs kicking spasmodically as she clutched at her tummy.

Two of the men on Hannah’s side of the table stood up for a better view, the others leaning left or right to see around the man opposite him. Thinking about it, Hannah started to wonder what might have happened if Mr. Deveno hadn’t seen Cindy wandering across the atrium floor that morning. It was plain as day the cunning older man had planned this display of power should negotiations not go his way. A way to release the tension, Hannah suspected, someone powerless for Harry to take his frustration out on. Someone who couldn’t do anything to stop him, unlike Gwendolyn Deveno. Hannah feared it may very well have been her laughing desperately had it not been for Cindy. Looking at the two standing men and the large bulges at the front of their pants, she feared things may still take a turn for the worst.

“Mister Deheheehe! Pleheese! Mistahaha!” Cindy squawked, her whole face bright red as she wriggled further and further toward the edge of her chair.

What happened exactly it was hard to say, to Hannah it looked like Cindy had tried to stand up, or maybe she just collapsed, either way the chair shot back out from behind her. As the back of the chair hit the table, more or less back where it had started, Cindy dropped like a hopelessly ticklish sack of potatoes. Floundering on the carpet in a pile of anguished giggles, the wide-eyed girl curled up one side as Mr. Deveno leaned right over her. Mercilessly he kept kneading at her sides, abdomen and ribs, Cindy’s squeaking pleas falling on the ears of an audience increasingly keen to hear more.

Within a few seconds of hitting the floor Cindy’s other heel was sent flying, her stocking-clad legs kicking aimlessly. Much to Hannah’s horror and the admiration of everyone else, all the fitful movement was causing the poor paralegal’s skirt to ride up. A few kicks later and what was already a very revealing piece of office attire had risen so high it revealed the very bottom of Cindy’s shapely butt right butt cheek. As she shook and squirmed the crease where her thick thighs met her bottom flexed. Falling further upward, the skirt showed off the lower curves of both creamy white cheeks and what was obviously a pair neon pink g-string panties.

“Get yourself a ticklish woman boys!” Harry squeezed one of Cindy’s knees and she screamed. “After a few minutes she’ll be putty in your hands!” He ran that same hand up her thigh and danced the fingers around the rim of her stocking. Cindy grabbed for his hand as she jerked her leg away, not noticing that the sly fellow’s other hand had started plucking at the bottom of her blouse. “Isn’t that right Miss Reid?” Mr. Deveno scurried five fingers up and under her shirt, his wicked touch stroking directly against Cindy’s skin.

“NOHOIIIEEE!” She thrashed and tried to roll away, stopped immediately when Harry’s other hand landed squarely into the small of her back.

“Tickle her boss!” One of the men cheered. “Get her good!” Called another, pumping his fist in the air.

Hannah couldn’t tell if she was trying not to move or just frozen with fear. The door Harry had entered through was just a couple of steps away and the way things were going a quick exit was becoming more tempting by the second. Up to that point all the men remained fixed on Cindy, but the last thing Hannah wanted was to move and catch their attention. She could picture it in a dreadful daydream; one of them turning with a perverse look in his eye, one or two more looking around to see what their buddy was after. Hannah doubted very much that Mr. Deveno would leap to her defense as numerous hands might grab and paw at her. The men on her side of the table were starting to move closer to the action and though it was a guilty thought Hannah couldn’t help but feel a slight relief as she remained still as a statue.

On the other side of the room Harry had allowed Cindy to roll on to her back, only for the big man to immediately straddle her hips. Pinning the much smaller girl in place, her legs kicking furiously out behind him, Mr. Deveno easily sent both hands onto the soft flesh of Cindy’s convulsing abdomen. With her skirt ridden up as it was several of the men behind Harry were treated to a full view of the cackling blonde’s panties, only obstructed at random by her quaking thighs. Though she grabbed and slapped at Mr. Deveno’s hands there was little Cindy could do as he pushed her blouse higher, her heaving ribs and terribly ticklish tummy all out in the open.

“ICAN’TBREAHTE!” Cindy wailed, curling herself up toward the man holding her in place before crashing back down in a mess of involuntary laughter. Held tight between Harry’s knees all the rolling and struggling got her nowhere fast, her nylon feet slipping uselessly across the carpet as she strained to buck him off.

The crowd had gathered around in a bustling, shuffling circle of horny testosterone. Over the tabletop and through the thin gaps between the men Hannah could see Cindy flailing, her top concern undoubtedly the ten fingers running amok across her midriff. They were like a pack of hungry dogs, none making a move of their own as their leader ate his share but all eager to get fed just the same. Hannah could feel that sweat trickling down her neck again, as much as she feared for herself she feared for Cindy almost as much. There wasn’t a man among them who might have had the moral fortitude to stop it, a fact Hannah suspected was very much by Harry’s design.

“Look closely gents!” Mr. Deveno reached back with one hand and pinched cruelly at Cindy’s knee, his other hand digging viciously into her ribs. “I want you all to pay very close attention!” He swung back around and clawed savagely up her sides, both hands shoving their way under the strained material of her shirt. Cindy howled in ticklish horror as Deveno’s fingers dove into her underarms, the bottom of her lacy pink bra showing along the undersides of her jiggling breasts. “Tonight, you all have a very special assignment!” He kept his hands there as Cindy’s biceps clamped around them, her laughter very nearly drowning out Harry’s words. “When you go home to your wives or your girlfriends or your ladies on the side-“ The men laughed and Cindy laughed though the reasons were very different indeed. “-I want to ask them for something! Something you know from experience they will not say yes to! Ask your wife to cook dinner at midnight! Ask your girlfriend for a threesome with her sister! Whatever it is, make sure she says ‘No!’”

Hannah could see where this was going and the thought sickened her. Over the three months as his personal assistant she’d got a keen sense of the man; stern and stubborn, demanding and fearsome. Morally, Hannah supposed, Harry Deveno wasn’t much worse than the rest of his ilk. A little more handsy than most, perhaps, a little unorthodox at best and a little perverse at worst. The tickling was strange she had to admit, but Hannah had mostly written it off as an excuse to feel her up from time to time. Now, seeing Cindy tormented in front of a full boardroom for minutes on end and hearing his latest demand, Hannah was starting to think she’d only seen the tip of Mr. Deveno’s depravity.

“And when your wife or your girlfriend or your mistress tells you ‘No!’-“ Harry’s voice boomed like he was rallying the troops for battle. “-what are you gonna do?!”

“Tickle her!” A few of the men yelled.

“I can’t hear you!” He drilled his fingers a little deeper into Cindy’s underarms causing her to shriek.

“TICKLE HER!” All the men roared, even John Quieter who was quite red in the face.

“And when you tickle her, are you going to stop?!”

“NO!”

“Are you going to let her go?!”

“NO!”

“Are you gonna tickle every inch of her until she gives you everything you want?!” Deveno had the men a fever pitch.

“YEAAAAAAH!” They jumped and shook their fists and yelled in each other’s faces and poor Cindy’s laughter could barely be heard among the clamor of it all.

Hannah thought of all the women that evening that would suffer at the hands of the men in that room and hoped some of them weren’t ticklish. She hoped each of the dozen men would find only disappointment later that day and not a one of them would get what they wanted. She hoped maybe one or two among them would ignore their boss’s orders and treat their wives well, but they were small hopes. There wasn’t a man among them who would disobey Harry Deveno. The chances of all twelve wives or girlfriends not being ticklish was hopeless, some would surely suffer tonight.

To the raucous cheering of the men and the anguished, laughing pleas of Cindy Reid, Hannah slowly moved toward the door. She pressed the handle down without taking her eyes off the crowd and opened a gap just big enough to slip through. A lot of women would be tickled tonight and Hannah was determined not to be one of them.

Chapter Four: The Dark History of Everything​

Emma was fed and given a bed for rest, which was frankly the least they could have done after what happened in the pool. Yumao woke her some hours later and gave Emma fresh clothes; loose fitting beige pants and a long-sleeve shirt and a pair of sinfully fluffy slippers. Before getting dressed she was left to shower, thankfully alone, and when all that was done with Yumao lead her to meet the apparently notorious Madam Ui.

In an enclosed space between buildings sat an idyllic garden. It was the kind of place Emma would have adored losing herself in a good book, small waterfalls lazily trickling away and wooden wind chimes gently clunking together in some far off corner. Yumao lead her down a couple of steps from the surrounding buildings and along a winding cobbled path, the sky overhead stark blue with mountain sky. Rounding a blooming magnolia tree rich in pink flowers, Yumao and Emma came to a wooden gazebo, the roof curved on all four sides and sweeping up at each corner.

“Ah…our uninvited guest.” Said a woman sitting poised elegantly inside the gazebo. She placed a dainty looking teacup down on an equally dainty looking table.

“Madam Ui...” Emma was barely able to hide her relief. Six months of searching and one god-awful aquatic torture session later, she had finally found her.

Much like Jai Lin, Madam Ui made an immediate impression. There was a properness about her, a grace that veiled something terrible just behind the eyes. She was fifty, maybe, by Emma’s estimation, and smaller than expected. Donned in all black, tight-fitting clothes, the sleek pants and long-sleeved top accentuated Ui’s well-toned figure. Dark hair hung stylishly around her shoulders, framing an expression that was equal parts welcoming and dangerous.

Emma bowed, as Yumao had showed her how to do not two minutes before, and as she did noticed Ui’s rather bulbous breasts beneath the thin material of her top. Wide hips above a slender waist too, Emma noted, and plump full lips. Why she was noticing these things the budding journalist had no idea, they were not features Emma would normally pick up on another woman. Not until six months ago, at least. Madam Ui reached for her tea again and her long, sharp nails made a gentle tinkling sound against the fine china cup which sent a tingle up Emma’s spine. Suddenly and through no conscious doing of her own, Emma was imagining herself being mercilessly tickled by the older woman. Naked, restrained, back arching, sweat dripping off her as those long nails ran wild across her skin and she cried for mercy.

“Please, sit.” Madam Ui gestured to a spot just to the other side of her small table. As Ui took a sip of her tea Emma shook the obscene thoughts from her unruly mind. “No one has called me ‘madam’ for many years.” Ui paused to take a sip of her tea while Emma sat. “In fact the last people who did are the very people you’re here to ask me about…is that right?”

Emma nodded solemnly. “Yes. I was hoping to ask you about a woman you might have known once…”

“Jai Lin.”

Emma nodded again. The name certainly carried a weight with it, even all the way out in the far reaches of the world.

Ui set her cup down and leaned back. She stared at her fiery haired guest for a moment, thinking what Emma couldn’t begin to guess. “I can tell you all about Jai Lin, but first…you must tell me why. Why you’re here, why you’re interested. Everything-“ She emphasized the word. “-that lead you to me. You can’t leave anything out. If I think you’re lying or trying to trick me…“ Ui gave Yumao a meaningful glance before looking back to Emma. “Do we understand each other?”

Oh, she understood all right. It wouldn’t be an easy tale to tell but there was no sense holding back now. Even if the threat of more time in Yumao’s pool wasn’t looming over her, Emma stood nothing to gain by being sheepish. They’d already seen her nude, already heard her scream and beg and laugh and cum her perverse little brains out. Whatever Ui knew about Jai Lin, whatever advantage it might give her in her quest for vengeance, was finally in Emma’s reach. All she had to do was talk at length about all the worst things that ever happened to her.

At some point during the telling of it all, Yumao slinked away. Alone with the woman formerly known as ‘Madam’ Ui, Emma talked for over an hour. Jason Whitmore was the obvious place to start, senior year of high school, under the bleachers where the handsome boy she thought was charming showed his true nature. Then later in the AV room, his failed attempt to bind Emma to a table and her subsequent escape that gave Jason a busted hand. The pride she spoke with of leaving Jason injured quickly disappeared when Emma reached the part about poor, tragic Wendy Starr.

Holding back tears Emma recalled listening to Wendy’s torture at the hands of Jason and the math teacher, Mr. Lucas. Ui’s eyes narrowed the tiniest amount at the mention of Mr. Lucas’ name, but Emma thought nothing of it in the moment. Feeling no less guilty after the confession, Emma skipped ahead to her time in New York and the hometown news article that compelled her to jump on a plane back home. She talked about Wendy and the girls from the mansion and how strange it was that the same girl who she’d failed to help back in high school was once again finding herself at the hands of people intent on tickling her.

Before Emma got to the part about sleuthing with Deena Tripp, Yumao returned with a light snack. Emma had some tea herself and took a deep breath as she readied to explain the really crazy stuff, which was saying something given everything that had already been said. Mr. Lucas’ house on the hill and the girl in white he tortured, another victim Emma did nothing to save. They followed the car with the girl in it after she was spent, Emma and Deena finding the secluded mansion far outside of town. More girls in white had chased them through the woods and dear Deena was caught in the kerfuffle, another sacrifice to Emma’s self-loathing incompetence. Not long thereafter Emma got herself arrested and looking back she wished she’d never stopped the car, held down the damn accelerator until she was back in New York.

The local sheriff and his deputies, corrupt and working for Jai Lin, Emma explained, took her to an abandoned building. There the last deputy revealed himself, none other than her personal high school nightmare Jason Whitmore. Much to his delight Jason tickled her and tickled her while his colleagues looked on, the deputies and sheriff alike all equally unfazed by the cackling, pleading girl bound before them. A phone call put a stop to the torment and Emma wished she could have said that was the end of it. Instead they bundled her half naked into a car and delivered her like a prize ham to the woman behind it all.

“She showed me a video…” Emma put her hand over her mouth. Maybe if she didn’t say it aloud it wouldn’t be true, maybe she could trick herself into thinking it was just another bad nightmare. “A live feed of somewhere else in the mansion. It was Deena and Wendy, they had them…they had them-“

“I can imagine.” Ui said without emotion, though Emma was grateful for the mercy to not relive it any further. “Jai Lin, she tickled you too then?”

Emma looked far away and whispered. “…Yes.”

“And yet, here you are.”

“I had help. There was another woman, she was Jai Lin’s assistant or…or something. Aleena. I don’t even want to think about what they did to her after I got away.”

“I remember Aleena.” It was Ui’s turn to look distant. “Jai Lin really kept her all these years? My god, the cruelty of that woman.“ She turned back to Emma. “I was…not kind in my youth, Emma. But Jai Lin, she and that bastard Samuel Lucas, they are of a different breed. They are not human.”

“Aleena told me about you. All I had was a name.”

“And here I am.” Ui got a thoughtful look about her. “I’ll tell you about Jai Lin and the man you thought was a math teacher, of all things. I’ll tell you all of it, my whole story, then you can figure out what to do with it.”

If it hadn’t been for her own story, Emma wouldn’t have believed a word of what followed. The Kanpekina School and the billionaire Harold Deveno Senior. The secret hideaway in Japan where Harold kept a harem of slave girls, each one handpicked from around the world for a short list of very specific, very ticklish traits. Ui hadn’t always been the Madam at Harold’s hideaway of course, she’d spent years suffering under the sadistic man’s wiggling fingers. Emma cringed at the idea of being held prisoner and tickled for so long, and to her eternal shame found she was not insignificantly turned on.

When the time came to talk about Jai Lin, Ui’s tone soured considerably. Perhaps, the former Madam admitted, she had been too harsh on the new girl, too eager to impress their master and prove she still held worth. “I don’t regret it, really.” Ui said at one point. “I only regret that I lost.”

It was a sobering comment, Emma thought. Over the few hours they sat there Ui was mostly quite pleasant to talk to, despite the topic of discussion. Polite, confident, intimidating in a confusingly attractive fashion. But then every so often the older woman would say something that bought Emma back to reality, back to recognizing exactly who Ui was and what she was capable of. With a snap of her fingers the mistress of the spa house could have had Emma stripped and bound, tickled out of her mind again for who knew how long. Based on how the rest of their conversation panned out, Emma realized, she was in very real danger of that happening.

Just when Emma was starting to think she’d heard all the most vile, wicked and evil ways a person could be made to suffer through tickling, Ui explained exactly how Jai Lin had gone about usurping the madam’s power. Aleena, the very same woman who’d helped Emma escape, had been the lover of one of Harold’s slaves, a girl named Hania. The girls, young at the time, sent secret messages to one another as they plotted Hania’s escape, a plot that was sadly discovered. Naturally Ui took to torturing Hania, but the girl held out, refusing to reveal how the messages were getting to the outside world.

“But...?” Emma said nervously, not sure she truly wanted the answer.

“Jai Lin, of course.” Ui tapped her nails across the tabletop and it sent a flutter through her guest’s lower tummy. “She swayed Samuel Lucas to her side. His men searched the town and found Aleena. That was Jai Lin’s trick you see, the thing she understood before anyone else; if you can’t attack the body, attack the heart.”

“Are you telling me…Jai Lin has had Hania and Aleena prisoner…all this time?”

“No.” Ui shook her head. “Just Aleena. They let Hania go.” A humorless smile crossed her lips. “It was a guard, incidentally, who’d been helping get the girls’ notes back and forth. No one ever saw him again.”

Emma sat, mouth half open, saying nothing. She’d had the thought before, more than once, that there was no end to the cruelty, no bottom level to this hell. Still the minds of people like Jai Lin and Mr. Lucas surprised her, still she found acts that were so reprehensible it was difficult to believe another human could concoct them. “They killed him…the guard?” Her voice squeaked and somehow murder still didn’t sound like Jai Lin’s worst sin.

“I can’t say for certain. If they did it wasn’t Samuel Lucas’ first, I can promise you that.”

“Deena…Wendy, they-“

“Oh, don’t worry.” Ui waved a dismissive hand. “They wouldn’t have hurt your friends. Driven them out of their minds, almost certainly. For all the evil in them I don’t believe Samuel Lucas or Jai Lin would ever hurt someone they could have more fun with alive.”

That sent a shudder up Emma’s spine.

“After that, I became a ghost in my own house. I lost all respect among the girls. Worse, I lose their fear. Then, a few years later, Harold’s heart gave out…”

Though Ui hadn’t known it at the time, she later found out that Harold Deveno Senior had set up an account in her name. Per Harold’s wishes, Ui only learned about the account after his passing. Unfortunately the total monetary value of the account was exactly zero dollars, with only two transactions on record. The first transaction was a deposit of several billion dollars, the second a withdrawal of the same amount. Ui’s reward for her years of suffering, gone before she even knew it existed.

“His son, Harry Junior told me all this, rather gleefully in fact.” Ui’s jaw tightened a little. “They left me there for him to find and when he did….he did what they always do.”

“I’m so sorry.”

Ui lifted her head, the despondent look on her face shifting to one of mild pride. “That was the last time. There hasn’t been a single person since who’s put their hands on me without my permission.”

“That explains the houses…the cars.” Emma frowned. “The police that work for them. All their money, it was meant for you.”

“Not according to Harry Junior it wasn’t. He was…perturbed, to put it mildly, that his father had left so much money to someone he considered nothing more than a plaything. I dare say he tried to track it down after he finally realized it wasn’t me who took it.”

“So Harold’s son, he has no idea that Jai Lin and Mr. Lucas are still out there?”

“I don’t know.” Ui’s lips perked up with a tiny smile. “After Harry was done with me I left and never looked back. I had nothing to my name. There were a lot of hard years, but eventually-“ She gestured around at the garden. “-I was able to build this place. I have a good life here and it belongs to me. I built it, it was all me. Jai Lin, Mr. Lucas, Harry, they can keep their money. Harold’s money.”

“You’re not upset? You don’t want to get back at them for everything they did to you?”

“Look…if I was to hear that Jai Lin’s world fell apart tomorrow, I won’t lie and tell you the news wouldn’t bring me joy-”

“-Then help me.” Emma’s voice was stern with determination. “Help me stop them, help their victims and people who will be their victims.”

“No.” Ui said plainly. “Jai Lin and Samuel Lucas were hardly much older than you are now when they ruined my life. I learned my lesson and you should too. They’ve had years of practice since, and are doubtlessly an even greater beast together than they were back then.”

Emma huffed loudly. “I can’t say I blame you.” She shook her head. “Harold Junior then, the son? If I go to him-“

“-You can’t do that either.” Ui cut her off. “Believe me when I tell you, Harry is worse than his father ever was in every way. If you go to him he may very well go after Jai Lin, but not before he’s chewed you up and spit you out a dozen times over. And he won’t do it because you annoy him or because he doesn’t like you, he’ll do it just to do it.”

“But you said he tried to find them before, didn’t you?”

“I said I didn’t know. He probably tried to find the money, wouldn’t you? Clearly if he did make any attempts they failed.”

“He’ll be interested to know where it is then. And a man like that, as bad as you say he is, he might be the best chance we have of putting a stop to Jai Lin for good.”

“Emma-“ Ui put one hand gently on Emma’s knee and looked her dead in the eye. “I know you want revenge. Believe me, I understand, but going to Harry Deveno –it is not a good idea.”

Trying to ignore the flustering feeling of Ui’s hand on her, Emma blinked tears of frustration from her eyes. “Who am I kidding?” She slumped back, defeated. “Even if I was going to talk to him I couldn’t afford to get there, wherever he is.” Her voice warbled with self-pity. “They just-they just do whatever they want and get away with it! Six months of running and searching and the nightmares, the god damn nightmares!” Emma’s volume was rising as her emotions took hold. “As if the tickling wasn’t bad enough! Jai Lin she-she gets in your head! I don’t even know what she did to me but I feel like I’m going crazy everyday thinking about it! And Wendy and Deena and all the others I just…I just…” Tears ran down her cheeks and her shoulders shook.

“Alright…alright…shh.” Ui rubbed Emma’s thigh and that didn’t help any. The older woman sighed. “I want my name to stay out of it. This place, my place, they must never find it, if that happens…you and I will no longer be friends.”

Emma looked up through tear-blurred eyes. “What are you saying?”

“The best I can offer is money. You can’t go to Harry Junior, you just can’t, but I can afford to back you for whatever else it is you want to do. I’ll fly you back to the States and then you use my money and only my money to stop Jai Lin.”

“Are-are you sure?”

“Not remotely, no.” Ui took her hand from Emma’s leg. “If you’re caught you’ll tell them where I am. Yumao, my girls, we’ll all be ruined. I am taking an extraordinary risk even just letting you walk out of here.”

“I won’t let you down.” Emma cleared her throat and wiped her cheeks dry.

“You had better not.” Ui stood up and walked slowly toward the steps. “Because if you fail everything you’ve been through so far will seem like a wonderful dream.”

Chapter Five: The Masseur​

Like most days in Harry Junior’s employ, Hannah’s work ended somewhere around 9pm. Some days ended later, very few finished earlier. Of course she’d known going in that her chosen career was never going to have normal working hours. Even so, thirteen hours around a man like Mr. Deveno took more of a toll than any job Hannah imagined doing growing up.

The street was still busy when she walked out into the courtyard, the Deveno Tower looming high behind her in the night sky. Eager to get home and collapse into bed, Hannah moved quickly by the enormous water fountain where a tall statue of Harold Deveno Senior stood proud. She made it almost halfway between the fountain and the street when her phone rang. Hannah scrunched her nose, she should just ignore it. Pretend she didn’t hear it, let it go to voicemail. Against her better judgment the tired P.A fished into her bag and pulled out her phone. Unsurprisingly, there was ‘Mr. Deveno’ displayed across the called I.D.

“I need you back up here.” Came his voice through the phone. “My office.” And with a click he was gone. No hello, no goodbye, no explanation and definitely no room to argue. If Hannah could have she’d have quit on the spot. Long, unpredictable hours and the random tickling, those two things alone were more than enough to walk away. Threats of more tickling hardly endeared her toward the job and after the madness of the Lottlinn meeting she knew those threats were not idle. Hanging her head, Hannah turned back toward the tower.

She set her bag down against the wall outside Harry’s office and stood upright. Aside from a security guard in the foyer Hannah hadn’t seen a single other person on her way back to the top floor. Likely there were a few lowly drones still plugging away in some cubicles somewhere. Certainly none of the bigwigs from the Lottlinn meeting stayed late, they were all off tormenting their wives and girlfriends. Hannah cringed at the thought as she took hold of the door handle and braced for whatever it was Mr. Deveno wanted now.

Inside, Harry sat on a chair in front of his desk, one leg propped up casually on the other. It wasn’t Harry that caught Hannah’s focus however, as her eyes shot immediately to the far left corner of the room. Sat cowering against the wall and the enormous window that overlooked the atrium was Cindy Reid, a black piece of cloth between her teeth. The cloth appeared to be pulled quite tight, tied firmly behind her head, though Hannah couldn’t see the knot. Dumbstruck, Hannah stood with the door half-shut as she surveyed the rest of the poor paralegal’s plight. Cindy’s arms were behind her back and it didn’t look like she held them there voluntarily. Her knees were up in front of her as she sat curled, her ankles bound together with a thin white thread just a little thicker than a shoelace. Other than the makeshift gag and bindings, the petrified blonde was entirely naked.

“Shut the door will you?” Mr. Deveno said irritably.

Without taking her eyes off Cindy, Hannah slowly let the door click shut behind her. “Mr. Deveno…” She managed to say, her voice little more than a whisper. “What uh…what’s happening here?”

“A demonstration, Miss Quist.” He clapped loudly, the sound snapping Hannah’s attention to him. “This is Izan.” Harry pointed a thumb at the opposite corner.

To Hannah’s surprise there stood a young man, or at least a man who looked young. Rookie mistake not checking all the corners, she thought sourly. He was tall, well dressed and on the wiry side, the man who might have been twenty or a youthful thirty. Tidy dark hair, quite handsome. Latino maybe, Hannah guessed, though it was difficult to tell, truthfully he could have been from a thousand different places. Izan stepped out of the corner and smiled in a strange way, his lips moved as they should have but his cheeks, his eyes, the rest of his face didn’t light up the way one’s expression normally would.

“Hello.” He said calmly, no accent immediately obvious in the one word.

Hannah’s eyes darted to Mr. Deveno, to Cindy, back to Izan. “Hi…?”

“Izan’s a freelancer-“ Harry folded his arms. “-comes highly recommended. If I like what I see today I’ll be keeping him on retainer for…various tasks.”

“Mr. Deveno I, uh…” Hannah couldn’t quite figure out where to begin, the two men were acting as if there wasn’t a naked woman bound in the corner. “I’m not sure I should be part of whatever this is.”

“Nonsense. If I’m going to be working with the man, you’ll be working with the man. You are still my assistant, aren’t you?”

Hannah wished very much the answer wasn’t “Yes but-“

“Delightful.” Mr. Deveno’s said definitively, like punctuating the end of the conversation. “Izan, if you would.”

“Yes sir.” Izan’s oddly emotionless eyes fixed on the gagged girl on the other side of the room. He strode toward Cindy with purpose and she trembled, pushing her bare feet against the carpet in what looked like an attempt to push herself through the wall.

Standing dumbly just inside the doorway, Hannah’s mind whirled with thoughts of what was about to happen. Bad as her day had been it seemed Cindy’s Reid’s was much worse by a measure Hannah couldn’t quite fathom. She’d always known the job would come with challenges but this one hit a little too close to home. Tied up, nude, absolutely vulnerable and exposed, Hannah could hardly imagine the terror Cindy must have felt. Hannah liked to think of herself as brave by most standards, though if she’d found her and Cindy’s roles reversed she knew that wouldn’t be true anymore. Still, something had to be done.

“Sir…?” Hannah approached Mr. Deveno gingerly, pausing to swallow hard. “Sir this…I don’t know what’s going on here but Miss Reid, she…well I’m going to need to know she’s consented before this goes any further.”

“Consented?” Harry chuckled. In the same moment Izan bent over and took hold of the binding around Cindy’s ankles, the helpless girl whimpering as her legs were pulled away from her.

“I don’t mean any disrespect, but I don’t think she’s enjoying this very much at all.”

“No, I shouldn’t say she is.” He didn’t take his eyes off the nude girl as she was dragged squirming away from the wall. “You on the other hand should count yourself lucky.”

With one hand between her ankles, Izan pulled Cindy out into the open floor of the large room. For the several feet she was dragged the shapely girl tugged and jerked, rolling in an effort to get free. When Izan stopped it was more or less in the same spot where Mr. Deveno had bullishly teased Hannah earlier in that same day. Izan set her feet down and just as Cindy started to twist herself over, the almost-robotic man dropped down and planted his knees either side of upper legs. Squeezing his thighs together, Izan straddled Cindy just below her hips and held her firmly in place.

“I can’t watch this.” Hannah muttered and turned for the door.

“You’ll watch.” Mr. Deveno’s tone stopped Hannah in her tracks. “If it weren’t for Miss Reid there it’d be you pinned down under Izan right now. That was my original plan, you know? Weeks in the making, this was. It was only your good fortune that we happened across her at the eleventh hour.”

Hannah pictured herself in Cindy’s place, powerless and exposed. Knowing she had come so close to being there made it all the worse. As Hannah turned back toward Mr. Deveno she was wishing, really wishing, she had ignored that phone call out on the street. She looked at her boss to gauge his demeanor but he didn’t look at her, his eyes were set squarely on Izan and Cindy. His jaw was tight and his eyes were narrowed. Deveno was always a fairly intense man to be around and it seemed far more so now, more than Hannah had ever seen before. Escaping the Lottlinn meeting was a triumph of stealth, or so she’d originally thought. It occurred to Hannah that perhaps she only made it out of that boardroom because Mr. Deveno allowed her to, and got the distinct impression that if she tried another daring disappearance now it wouldn’t go so well.

“Ahem.” Hannah cleared her throat and shuffled herself back and off to the side of Mr. Deveno. Out of his sight, at least, in case his attention did soon turn to her.

“Whenever you’re ready, Izan.” Harry leaned back into his chair and intertwined his fingers.

“Mmhm! Mmhm!” Cindy shook her head, her desperate protests muffling against the cloth in her mouth.

Izan held his right hand out to the side and his five fingers started wiggling with alarming speed. The sight of those quick digits and all of Cindy’s unprotected skin caused Hannah’s toes to curl inside her shoes. In a blur Izan whisked his fingertips up the bound girl’s side, a loud squeal breaking against the gag. Cindy spasmed and flinched sharply as far away as her dire position would let her. She started saying something no one could understand, though the tone of it was clear as day, all high-pitched and strained with fear. Izan did it again, five fingers racing in a split second up the side of Cindy’s midriff, her bound feet bouncing against the floor as she yelped.

Hannah closed her eyes and heard the sorrowful paralegal squeak again. Each time it happened Cindy would talk faster, dismal pleas morphed into unintelligible babble by the gag. She wouldn’t have faired any better, Hannah thought, she’d have been as big a mess as Cindy, if not more so. Tickling, she even hated the word let alone the act. Until a few moments ago the worst Hannah could have imagined was being chased around that same office by Harry. Before that it was her ex-boyfriend, a cheerful dog-handler who would occasionally wrap one of his arms around her ankles and tickle her feet while she wheezed and slapped him. The depravity of it, the unbelievable cruelty of tying someone up to tickle them shouldn’t have surprised Hannah, but it did.

“MMM!” Cindy squealed particularly loud and Hannah looked back. Izan was using both hands now, running five fingers up either side of the girl’s tummy. He’d stop for a few short seconds to let her beg, all wide-eyed and quivering as she awaited the next attack. When the ten digits scurried over her sensitive skin Cindy curled upward, her big bare breasts bouncing as she whined.

“You don’t like being tickled, do you Cindy?” Izan said in that same eerily plain way he’d greeted Hannah. There was an accent, South American maybe, but Hannah couldn’t pick exactly where.

“Mm mm!” Cindy shook her head without taking her eyes off the man sitting atop her.

“That’s good.” He held up one index finger and curled it into a slight hook. “Because this would be so boring otherwise.” Lowering his hand slowly, Izan started wiggling that single finger toward the center of Cindy’s tender tummy.

“Mmm! Mhm!” She stared at the encroaching finger, her eyes flashing over to Hannah with a look of sheer panic.

Hannah’s mouth opened as if to say something and her jaw moved, saying nothing. Cindy looked back to Izan’s hand, his finger just a few inches from her belly button. She stared terror-stricken to Hannah again and all the frozen P.A could muster was to silently mouth the words ‘I’m sorry’. Less than a second later Cindy screamed into her gag.

“MMMM! MMFFF!” She wailed, bucking mindlessly as Izan’s fingertip swirled deep inside her agonizingly sensitive navel.

In unison Cindy’s tied legs kicked, her bare feet flailing as they jumped up and down off the carpet. Throwing herself from side to side, her whole upper body tried to roll one way and then the other, never getting far enough. No matter how much Cindy struggled her tormentor’s finger was lodged tight, her uncontrolled laughter a sure sign of the turmoil within. As the seconds wore on Hannah couldn’t stop herself from gently covering her own belly button with one hand. Watching Cindy’s long blonde hair whip wildly about as she fought for the tickling to stop, it was easy for Hannah to picture her own hair whipping at her face as she would certainly do the same.

Much to Hannah’s ever-increasing dismay the navel assault didn’t end after a few quick, teasing seconds. Unlike when Izan would run his fingers up Cindy’s side and pause, his belly button finger-hook remained ongoing. Each passing second of squealing terror caused Hannah to feel exponentially more uncomfortable, Cindy’s cheeks blushing pink around her gag. She couldn’t stop it, there was absolutely nothing she could do. Powerless as Hannah felt when someone tickled her there was always at the very least some sense of hope that she could fight her way free. Tied up like that, not able to speak, to try and negotiate or talk her way out of it, not knowing when it might end, it must have been maddening.

When Izan stopped after what was almost a full minute, Mr. Deveno switched the way he had his legs crossed. Other than that the stoic man barely moved, his focus on the naked girl breathing heavily on his office floor. Cindy was trying to say something, muffled pleas no doubt, as she tried to catch her breath. Sadly catching her breath was going to have to wait as Izan held his hands over her, curling each one into the gnarled shape of a lobster claw. Cindy’s muted begging increased in volume, her petit frame squirming beneath the pitiless man above her.

“Ngh! Ngh! Nkff!” She shook with more vigor as Izan’s hands lowered toward her, his gradual descent clearly designed to heighten Cindy’s horrid anticipation.

A demonstration, Mr. Deveno had said before, yet seeing it in action Hannah found far more questions than answers. Whoever Izan was it was obvious this wasn’t his first time wrangling an unwilling victim. Finding it difficult to think straight as she watched Cindy brace for the inevitable, Hannah tried to recall what else was said. A freelancer, whatever that meant. And retainer, Deveno wanted to keep Izan around but to do what? Torture more paralegals? The self-titled Silver Fox would have no problem tickling any number of young women if that’s what he was after. In fact the list of things Harry Deveno Junior couldn’t do should he so desire must have been quite short indeed. Izan had to be there to do something Harry couldn’t, but what that was exactly Hannah had no clue.

“NNNFFF!” Cindy’s screech broke Hannah’s train of thought as Izan’s wicked claws dug viciously into the bound girl’s supple ribcage.

His fingertips bore into the soft spots between each rib. Cindy’s eyes were open so wide Hannah could see white all the way around her blue irises as she screamed with laughter. Plain faced, Izan worked the bosomy paralegal’s sides, his fingers wiggling as they stroked back and forth over her each rib. As her pinkened cheeks grew a darker shade Cindy rocked madly in the mysterious man’s hands, the bottoms of her large breasts slapping against the tops of his hands. While his fingers continued driving into her heaving ribcage, Izan crept his thumbs higher, burrowing beneath the fleshy undersides of Cindy’s breasts. Wiggling the tips of his thumbs, Izan prodded savagely at her hidden skin there, Cindy’s gagged laughter doubling in raucous volume.

Over a minute into the hellish display and Cindy’s cheeks were more red than pink, her forehead and neck both rosy too. Her nostrils flared and when it seemed like she might just about run out of air Izan let his hands scurry down to her sides. With his fingers wrapped around Cindy’s tummy Izan kept up the same level of intensity he’d used on her ribs, four fingers poking speedily into either side while his thumbs dug into the outer edges of her abdomen. Cindy’s laughter jolted into a more rapid, higher pitch panic as she flopped helplessly upon the carpet, her eyes fixed with what looked like a crazed sense of disbelief.

“NNNGH! NNF! NF!” Cindy arched her back, the top of her head rolling onto the floor when Izan’s hands spidered all the way up her sides. He slipped two fingers from each hand in between her biceps and underarms, his other digits drilling into the ballooning sides of her jiggling bosoms. She thrashed left then right, her arms flexing hard against the bindings behind her back.

If Hannah thought she’d been uncomfortable a few minutes before she was bordering on nauseas now. The suppressed sounds of ticklish anguish bellowing from Cindy caused a knot in the pit of Hannah’s stomach. She could handle a lot of things, the anxiety of her teen years rarely ever rearing up in adulthood, but it was returning with full force in that office. Watching the naked paralegal’s underarms get assaulted, Hannah suddenly became very conscious of her own hollows. A nervous sweat, cold against her underarms, was starting to show through the P.A’s blouse. Willing herself to calm down, Hannah couldn’t help but imagine Izan’s fingers running unimpeded under her arms, a thought that continued to tighten the knot in her tummy.

Izan lifted himself slightly, loosening the vice-grip of his legs. An opportunity to wriggle away perhaps, not that Cindy would have gotten far. Instead the wheezing girl didn’t even seem to realize she wasn’t being tickled anymore, still twitching and letting out half-moaned laughter. Taking hold of one of her shoulders, Izan easily forced Cindy to roll over, sitting back down across the backs of her thighs the second she fell face down. It was then she tried to worm away, thrusting her bare ass into the air, but Izan squeezed his legs around her’s and the attempt was thwarted before it began. Straddling her thick thighs, Cindy’s shapely butt protruded up between Izan’s knees and he started wiggling his fingers once again.

“MEEEFFHH!” Cindy squealed, her bound hands reaching down blindly with open palms when Izan scribbled five digits across her right butt cheek.

Easily sliding around her feeble efforts to protect herself, Izan danced his fingertips along the underside of Cindy’s ass. Both cheeks tightened as the fiendish fingers ran along the crease where buttock met thigh. Deep dimples caved in on the outer sides of Cindy’s bottom, her squealing laughter growing more hectic by the second. As the tickling sped dangerously close to her crack Cindy’s fingers spread wide, desperately trying to cover as much of her hopelessly sensitive behind as possible. Predictably, heartbreakingly, the frenzied girl’s defenses amounted to all but pointless as Izan frolicked his fingertips up into the right side dimple.

Cindy threw herself right, her big boobs squishing and ballooning beneath her as she rolled. Before falling fully back on to her stomach, Izan’s other hand joined the fray, five equally merciless fingers running wild across her left cheek. Bouncing her hips, Cindy screamed into her gag, a torrent of insuppressible laughter following immediately after. Accosted by ten fingers roaming around her behind, there was no way for the trapped girl to fight off both at once. Shooting her tightly tied hands one way left the other direction wide open for attack, and Izan took every opening offered to him. Once or twice he even stroked quickly across Cindy’s open palms causing her arms to recoil upward and leaving the entirety of her peach-shaped butt without a shred of cover.

What the state of Cindy’s mind must have been after so much tickling, Hannah could only guess. There had been a time a while back when Hannah had stepped out of the shower and her dog-handler ex quickly ran a couple of fingers across her bare butt. She must have leapt six feet across the bathroom before turning to see a cheeky grin plastered across his face, fingers still wiggling away. When he lunged forward she’d run, speeding naked and soaked into the bedroom where he’d caught her by the bedside. Again he’d stroked her butt and again Hannah just about shot through the roof, scrambling up onto the bed to escape him. Fortunately what followed was a tumbling, slippery and satisfying event that left their duvet quite messy indeed, but Hannah never forgot how explosively ticklish those brief strokes across her rear end had been. Watching Cindy endure long minutes of having her ass tickled, it was unsettling to think what might have happened had the post-shower event gone another way.

“NEEEIIHHPH!” Cindy screeched as Izan’s fingers wiggled along the undersides of her cheeks, his hands zooming toward one another where they almost met in the middle. Again he would do it, and again, each time Cindy’s thighs would squeeze tight and her cheeks would clench. He tickled her palms and her hands shot away, his fingers swiftly feathering up between her butt cheeks, all the while she spasmed violently.

If Izan was going to stop he showed no intentions of it. For that matter he didn’t seem to show much of anything. Hannah liked to think she was pretty good at reading people, it was a useful skill in her line of work, but Izan was a like a book without words. He switched techniques from light strokes to devilish pinching and his expression remained the same, as nonchalant as someone waiting for a bus. It had to be worse, Hannah thought, being tickled by someone more akin to machine than human, no telling what they might be feeling, or if they felt anything at all. Certainly Izan had no pity, that much was devastatingly clear.

Cindy’s entire face was just starting to turn beet red when Izan’s hands grabbed at her sides. With the speed of a viper he abandoned her well-tickled butt and launched an all out tickle-assault directly onto her midriff. Roaring laughter shook Cindy’s curvaceous frame, her entire upperbody twisting and straining to break away. Behind Izan, Cindy’s lower legs slammed up and down, her upturned feet kicking against the carpet together. With her bound hands she would try to grab either one of his hands, never quite reaching far enough to do much more than graze his wrists. Izan’s fingers explored higher, well beyond Cindy’s grasp as his fingertips poked playfully into the sides of her milky white bosoms.

A light sheen of sweat was starting to glisten across Cindy’s back when Mr. Deveno looked back over one shoulder. “Thoughts?” He said, glaring back at Hannah.

She let out a shuddering breath, hoping the sound of her fear was drowned out by Cindy’s torment. “He’s…effective.” Was the nicest thing Hannah could think to say, though she hardly meant it as a positive.

“He is, isn’t he?” Mr. Deveno turned back to watch the sadistic demonstration. “And from what I hear of his work, the best is yet to come.”

Hannah closed her eyes again, of course it was only going to get worse. If Cindy remained sane after this nightmare was over she’d have been shocked. The distraught girl may already have lost her mind, it barely seemed possible for a person that unbearably ticklish to maintain any mental stability. Certainly Hannah didn’t think she could have kept herself together for more than a couple of minutes, not while stark naked and inescapably bound. When she opened her eyes Hannah’s jaw tensed, Izan had hooked his index fingers under Cindy’s shoulders and was wriggling them mercilessly into the tight gaps between her biceps and underarms.

“MMMF! MMF! MFFMFFMFF!” Distressed laughter tore from Cindy’s voluptuous body. Every part of her was reduced to a toy to be used for the amusement of Harry and his peculiar guest. Her obvious anguish was nothing to them at best and a delight at worst, Cindy’s inhumane suffering all part of their terrifying fun.

Izan leaned back, shrill giggles bursting from Cindy as he danced five fingers down the full length of both her sides. Twisting to reach one arm behind himself, he grabbed a hold of the binding around her ankles. As Izan pulled Cindy’s lower legs up toward him, his other hand spidered up onto her ass and ran quickly back and forth across the undersides of her cheeks. Hannah could see Cindy’s leg muscles trembling with strain to put her feet back on the floor but she was in a such a fit of laughter from the butt tickling there was no hope. As her bare feet were pulled closer to Izan her knees spread apart. Just as Cindy’s heels were about to touch his back Izan shifted his weight onto one knee. With well-practiced swiftness he lifted his other leg and shot it back down between his captive’s quivering thighs, planting his knee solidly between her’s, straddling the back of one thigh.

“Oh god.” Hannah whispered to herself, covering her mouth with one hand as she realized Izan’s next intended target.

Keeping hold of the binding with one hand, Izan’s free hand frolicked over Cindy’s butt crack. Squealing loudly and bouncing wildly on the carpet, her trapped hands batted weakly against her tormentor’s fingers. Drained from the endless assault, Cindy’s ability to fend him off appeared even more useless than just a few minutes before. More or less with free reign over her ticklish backside, Izan’s nefariously light touch ran up and down, teasing from the tip of her tailbone to the outer most edge of her taint. After a minute of that madness the light coating of sweat across Cindy’s skin was turning to visible droplets, hot beads drizzling down her sides and forehead.

Thought difficult to see through all the crazed movement and flailing hair, Hannah could have sworn she saw tears begin to well in Cindy’s eyes. Couldn’t blame her, Hannah would have been crying too, especially when Izan’s relentlessly wiggling digits dived down between Cindy’s thighs. With Izan kneeling between her legs there was no way for Cindy to close the gap, giving him open access to stroke devilishly all over her atrociously sensitive taint. Cindy’s back arched and her fingers spread wide, her legs kicking helplessly in place as she shrieked with laughter. Sure enough thick tears started streaming down her beet red cheeks, every part of the poor girl fighting mindlessly against the invasive torture.

Hannah found she was squeezing her thighs together out of a deep sense of empathy. She could almost feel Izan’s fingertips prodding between her own legs and the sense of it horrified her. How ferociously Cindy fought, all her thrashing and pained cries, all her willpower amounting to nothing as it was callously tickled away. What exactly Izan did next was difficult to tell but the sound his victim made wasn’t like anything Hannah had ever heard from another human being before. It was a piercing, animalistic wallow that sent Cindy berserk, her naked body seizing violently as Izan’s fingers did whatever terrible thing they were doing down there.

She must have had the endurance of an Olympian, Hannah thought. How Cindy’s lungs managed to keep up was a mystery unto itself, the intensity with which she laughed made it sound like she would pass out at any second. Falling unconscious would have been a great mercy no doubt, and Hannah started wishing the luckless paralegal could at least find that way to escape. Slick sweat shone across Cindy’s back, the sides of her squishing boobs glistening as beads trickled down across into the creases of milky white skin. Her shapely ass was similarly painted, steaming sweat making her buns glossy as they bounced and flexed. Long strands of hair were starting to stick to Cindy’s upper back, her neck just as dark a shade of red that coloured the agonized expression across her face.

“Uhff…uhh…uffhh…” Cindy whimpered between gasps when at long last when Izan removed his hand from between her thighs. His fingers were strangely wet, and even from where Hannah stood they appeared much too soaked for it to be sweat. Before getting a better look, Izan was grabbing at Cindy’s body.

Pulling his leg free from between the heavily panting girl, Izan clutched at Cindy’s sides and squeezed rapidly. Instantly bursting with girlish laughter, Cindy rocked from side to side and with a little assistance from her tickling assailant was rolled onto her right. Spasming in a twisted version of the fetal position she continued to laugh uproariously as Izan kneeled next to her and his open hand came clawing down directly onto the center of her exposed midriff. Bucking crazily on her side it was clear Cindy was doing everything she could to roll facedown again. Thought she’d faired very poorly indeed on her stomach it seemed the tummy tickling undid any shred of logic, all that mattered was making it stop.

Rolling backward wasn’t an option for Cindy either as Izan’s knees were directly behind her. After a few seconds to establish the new hell she was in, her personal demon bought his other hand into the mix, his fingers crawling up her spine and into the nape of her neck. Cindy snapped her head to one side and by the time she’d bought her shoulder up for protection Izan’s wickedly wiggling digits were already moving elsewhere. Over the side of her jiggling breast, he lightly ran his fingertips down around Cindy’s puffy pink areole and it was then Hannah noticed how alarming erect the bound girl’s nipples were.

Struck by disbelief Hannah didn’t it think it even remotely possible but a quick glance down to Cindy’s inner thighs sure made her question reality. Certainly she understood that the human body could have all manner of outlandish reactions to stimuli, nonetheless seeing the sordid amount of wetness spread across the paralegal’s pussy defied even the most outrageous possibilities. As Izan’s nimble fingers swept across Cindy’s stiffened nipple the look on her face seemed to confirm Hannah’s bizarre suspicion. Among the lunacy of laughter from having her tummy kneaded, Cindy’s eyes rolled back and her jaw dropped. Her gagged mouth formed an uncomfortable O-shape before she broke into fits of helpless laughter once more. It was a blink-and-miss-it moment and for a few seconds Hannah doubted her own eyes. Only when it happened again did it finally dawn on her that Cindy was alarmingly, feverishly turned on.

For the briefest of seconds Hannah wondered if she’d been taken for a fool, if Cindy had been a willing participant this entire time. After all, how could anyone under such circumstances become so obliviously aroused without wanting to, there was no way. Again the cringing P.A found her assumptions challenged as she watched Cindy’s face contort between fleeting seconds of lust and excruciating torment. Her muffled pleas had become rarer the more her torture had gone on but to Hannah’s ear Cindy’s desperation certainly sounded genuine. If she were acting it was a hell of a show, next stop Broadway for that girl because faking a look of terror like that in one’s eyes was worthy of the stage. No, Cindy was no volunteer yet somehow Izan had still managed to force her into a perverse response. Perhaps that was the one thing Mr. Deveno couldn’t do that Izan could, even with his vast fortune that level of power over a person was priceless.

“Mmmphh! Mmmphph!” Cindy wept, breathing heavily after several prolonged minutes. Izan’s fingers had flickered back and forth between each of her large breasts, feathering across her rock hard nipples and driving her utterly mad in the process.

When Izan finally took his hand from her midriff Cindy’s tummy was a light shade of pink. A pained expression furrowed her brow as he rolled her onto her back, and it was there Hannah noticed the frazzled prisoner was lewdly grinding her hips. Cindy winced and gasped and more tears fell down her furiously red cheeks, her thighs quivering as she undoubtedly feared whatever heinous act would come next. Izan turned, facing away from Cindy’s head and swung one leg over her hips, straddling the girl. As he started inching forward Cindy lurched up with sounds of protest, her eyes bugging out more than Hannah had seen yet. She shook her head ‘no’, her eyes boring daggers into Izan’s back as he crept further down her legs.

“EASEFF! EASEFF NFF!” Cindy cried, sobbing as she tried to worm away, her hips rolling and legs tugging violently. It was the most coherent thing to come through the nude girl’s gag all evening, though Hannah couldn’t quite make it out until she looked to where Izan was heading. As he slid down Cindy’s shins, his legs squeezing tight around her’s, Hannah noticed the girl’s bare feet crossing back and forth over one another. It was then Hannah understood Cindy’s words perfectly, and why if she had been in the same position she too would have been screaming ‘please no’.

Locking his knees either side of Cindy’s ankles, Izan used his straddling-position to keep a vice grip around her lower legs. Completely vulnerable save for the meager protection they could afford each other, Cindy’s tiny bare feet trembled nervously in their captive squeeze. Behind him, the alarmed girl was throwing herself back and forth, clawing at the floor with her bound hands and bellowing distorted begging into her gag. She sat up, bouncing on her bare ass as she tried to pull away, looking forlornly at Mr. Deveno and Hannah. Someone, anyone, do something, her eyes plead. No one moved. Deveno didn’t care, or he did but in the entirely wrong way. Izan showed no more mercy than he had from the beginning. And Hannah, Hannah couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to. Her feet were frozen to the floor, as she was suddenly very conscious of all that stood between them and tickling fingers were a pair of thin socks and sensible flats. Far, far more protection than Cindy had.

“EAAASSEEFF!” Cindy wailed, her stifled voice cracking with terror.

Izan’s response was to hold his hands out either side of himself, a move made purely so his despondent victim had a full view as his fingers began to wiggle. Cindy glared at Hannah again with those big, desperately urgent eyes. Hannah shook her head the tiniest amount and furrowed her brows apologetically. She could only hope Cindy understood why leaping into a daring rescue wasn’t a good idea, or why running for the door would most likely end with both of them being tortured. With that in mind, Hannah wasn’t the least bit convinced she would escape the evening unscathed even if she did obey Mr. Deveno’s every command.

Moving his right hand out of Cindy’s view, Izan extended his index finger. With that single fingertip he drew a winding line across the carpet leading up to the whining girl’s soles. As Izan’s first touch caressed the back of Cindy’s heel all her thrashing halted, her whole body tensing from head to toe. Barely grazing the silky soft skin, his fingertip traced slowly up the outer side of her pink heel, her other foot struggling to lean far enough over to stop the sensation. Cindy whined loudly, a prolonged high pitch cry that vibrated her upper body. Izan continued on at his painstaking pace, dragging the lone fingertip around the front of her heel and stopping directly above it. She breathed rapid, panicked breaths, flinching and twitching as the finger held still. Making her wait was a torture unto itself.

“NNHHFF! NFFH! NNNNHHHFF!” Spasming out of control, Cindy exploded into deranged laughter the instant Izan’s finger began moving. With a tiny movement he moved his fingertip gently from side to side. Izan’s miniscule stroking hardly looked enough to bother a fly, yet Cindy was thrown into immediate pandemonium.

After those first few hysteric seconds Izan introduced his other index finger, landing the frighteningly adept tip just above her other heel. Like lightning an almost deafening screech tore through Cindy’s laughter, both her feet crisscrossing hurriedly over each other. No matter how much she wanted it to end there was no way for either of her hyperticklish soles to reach that exact spot, a fact Hannah strongly suspected Izan was well aware of. As her toes curled tight and Cindy’s forlorn howling grew more frantic it occurred to Hannah she had never seen anyone laugh quite like that. So loud, so joyless, it was almost a stretch to even call it laughter anymore. But laugh Cindy did, a muffled riot of senseless squealing that would have sounded more at home in a psych-ward than a corporate office.

Two more fingers found their way onto Cindy’s tender heels, Izan’s middle digits wiggling away. Soaked in sweat, her big naked bosoms bounced as she rolled helplessly around behind him. Hair stuck to her anguished face as Cindy grew more berserk by the second, a look in her eyes that said Cindy Reid was no longer home. Maybe she was way back in there, buried deep, but as far as Hannah could see it looked like the poor girl had been reduced to nothing more than an object of pure, unbridled ticklishness.

Just when Hannah thought Cindy had surely reached some sort of limit and might actually pass out, Izan entered his thumbs into the mix. Scratching lightly at her wrinkling arches made her jolt violently, screeching laughter renewing the strength of her hectic struggles. Sadly for Cindy her ambitious feet couldn’t fight Izan’s thumb-tips off either, his deft movements never allowing her even a split second of rest. As the six-digit torment went on Izan’s expression never once changed, his apparent indifference a fact Hannah found more unnerving than any amount of baby-talk or childish taunting could have. Equally horrifying were Izan’s remaining fingers, the four waiting tools of ticklish destruction that were being purposely held back for their time to shine.

“AUUHHH-” Cindy arched her back and her chest rose as she started to draw an especially large gasp of air. Well before she’d filled her lungs Izan scribbled all ten fingertips wildly around both her creamy soft soles. “EEEEIII! MMFFF!” Her tiny toes spread wide as her entire torso bounced six inches off the floor before flopping back down.

Cackling mindlessly, Cindy’s petit feet flicked back and forth, no amount of crisscrossing would do them any good now. Up her taut arches and onto the tender balls of her feet, Izan’s merciless fingers left nowhere unscathed. When not spidering all over Cindy’s soles, Izan would swipe a digit under her toes and she’d instantly curl them tight. A quick flurry of strokes down her instep would see her toes spread wide again, an opening the relentless man never let go to waste. For the sake of sadistic variety his techniques were frighteningly numerous. Izan never settled on one movement for long, even if he did bounce unpredictably back to previous inhumane methods. Fingertips drilled between each of Cindy’s toes, danced across the thin skin along the tops of her feet and skated wistful circles around her heels, all the while she fell further into madness.

While Hannah knew her and Cindy’s two situations were barely comparable, she couldn’t help but feel she too was being subjected to a certain kind of torture. Forced to stand and watch such wretched misery required it’s own form of endurance. Then there was the ever-present thought that had it not been for Cindy it would have been Hannah wallowing nude on the carpet, to say nothing of the looming threat that it could still happen. Like a preview to one’s own personal hell, she thought it might be better having known nothing if it was going to happen. Even if it didn’t, even if Hannah made it out of the tower untouched the memory of Cindy Reid’s ticklish destruction would surely give her nightmares for years to come.

Every second was more harrowing than the one before it, though how long Hannah had been standing there she couldn’t have said. Certainly however long it felt must have been a million, billion times worse for Cindy. By the time Izan started tapping his fingertips across the tips of her toes the ravaged girl was so disheveled she looked like she’d spent a few hours tumbling around inside a giant washing machine. Sweat practically poured off her, Cindy’s huge breasts gleaming in the office light. Her face was soaked along with most of her hair, much of which stuck to her glistening skin. Cindy’s arms were red from the shoulders down, a result of all the rolling, her neck and face many shades redder. The gag was soaked through and drool drained from one corner of her mouth and her plump bottom lip. All the while Cindy struggled valiantly, her reeling squeals cracking as she wheezed into longer and longer bouts of silent laughter.

When it seemed like the frazzled paralegal wasn’t going to come back from her latest descent into soundless suffering, Izan reached one hand back behind himself. While his left crawled down under Cindy’s toes, raked over the balls of her feet and started spidering back and forth across her arches, his right hand crept up her quivering thigh. Without looking back, Izan made a C-shape with his thumb and index finger and set the wicked claw to exploring the crease between Cindy’s upper leg and sopping wet pussy. Lurching up with a banshee’s shriek the volume of her laughter was renewed, her hips bucking so hard they’d have put the finest rodeo rider to shame.

Howling and huffing for gasps of air, Cindy continued to try and sit up and each time she did Izan’s clawing hand would whip out from her thigh and pinch wildly across her tummy. After her sixth or seventh attempt to get herself up Izan switched techniques, either for the sake of it or as some form of twisted punishment. With his left hand still running riot all over her bare feet the effortlessly evil man wiggled one fingertip deep into Cindy’s belly button. She fell back and screamed, throwing herself onto one side and then the other, no direction free from the demonic digit drilling into her painfully ticklish navel. Izan kept her in that state of rolling madness for what had to have been nearly five full minutes. When he finally removed the finger, he traced the tip directly down toward her throbbing, bald pussy.

Twisting his hand around, Izan slid the offending finger down between Cindy’s labia, another finger joining the descent in between her thighs. As her back arched sharply and her teary eyes burst open wider than they already were, a soul-shattering gasp forced air into Cindy’s lungs. Her jaw dropped as her voluptuous body tensed, shuddering violently in that contorted position. Though Cindy squeezed her thighs to the point it looked like she might break his hand, Izan continued to work his fingers apparently unhindered. Like a woman possessed, she thrashed harder than ever before, the laughter from her unending foot tickling constantly interrupted by deep guttural moans.

With one final damning look, Cindy froze for a split second to stare at Hannah directly. She lay with her top half on one side, her defenseless feet and helpless pussy still being unapologetically toyed with. Hair dangled in her face and her cheeks puffed exhaustively. Her nipples were so swollen they had to be sensitive beyond belief, and whether Hannah believed it or not she knew what about to happen. Cindy glared right at her but it wasn’t a look that plead for rescue, or even a look to ask for pity. If it meant anything at all, Hannah thought, it was the look of someone who knew they were truly lost.

“AUUUUFFF!” Cindy’s body snapped backward, her muscles and tendons all tensing as she moaned hoarsely. With Izan’s hand jammed between her quaking thighs the flood of her orgasm blew back. Thick drops sprayed messily across her bouncing hips and lower tummy, the deluge of forced carnality drenching Izan’s hand in the process.

Hannah just about fainted as she watched Cindy spasm and holler. Throughout the loud release Izan continued tickling the paralegal’s vulnerable soles. The idea of being put through two such starkly different and severe sensations at once nearly broke Hannah’s brain. Watching Cindy cum so forcefully and endure the fingers dancing around her feet was like staring at the night sky for too long, her mind simply couldn’t fathom it all. In something of a befuddled daze, Hannah only snapped out of it when Izan finally stood up.

“Well done.” Mr. Deveno got up from his chair, looking quite pleased indeed.

Izan closed the few steps between the two men, leaving Cindy a steaming hot mess on the carpet. She writhed weakly, lacking even the strength to roll herself over. As Mr. Deveno gave Izan a respectful nod, Cindy continued to twitch and moan, cooing huskily as the remnants of her orgasm kept her tiny toes curled. “I’m glad you like my work.” Izan said, though his deadpan expression didn’t seem to agree.

“One of the best I’ve ever seen-“ Harry grinned. “-and believe me, that’s saying something. You’re free to go, I’ll be in touch very soon with the details.”

Izan gave a single, quick nod of his own and turned for the door. Even though there was a couple of feet between them when he walked by Hannah felt a fearful skip of her heart having him get so close. She watched him closely as he stalked across the length of the room, not trusting for a moment that he wouldn’t turn back and come after her. Izan opened the handle with his dry hand and slinked out through the door, shutting it almost silently save for a barely audible click. For a hesitant moment Hannah felt like she should be relieved, only to realize that she had foolishly turned her back on Mr. Deveno. Spinning about quickly, she was no less panicked to see the billionaire was still standing exactly where he was a moment before.

“You can go too.” Mr. Deveno had one sleeve rolled up and was working on bringing up the other. “Don’t bother coming by the house in the morning, I’ll meet you here.”

Resisting the urge to flee immediately, Hannah turned her eyes to the bound, panting young woman in the middle of the floor. “I should...um-I should probably take her home or…?”

“Never mind that. Miss Reid’s evening is far from over.”

“But sir, she-“

“Unless you’d like to switch places?”

She should have said yes, that would have been the heroic thing to do. Sacrifice herself for an innocent, jump in the line of fire. That would have been brave, that would have been courageous. All the things Hannah hoped she’d be when faced with terrible danger. Or in this case terrible tickling, though as she saw it the two were one in the same.

“…I’ll see you in the morning, sir.” Hannah said sheepishly and began turning for the door.

Out the corner of her eye she saw Mr. Deveno start moving toward Cindy. Keeping the exit firmly in her line of sight, Hannah couldn’t bring herself to look back. Halfway there and she heard the paralegal’s muted whines begin and Deveno growling hungrily. The sounds of a shuffling struggle started right when Hannah grabbed the door handle and guilt struck her chest like cutting steel. Good god how she hated herself, the least, the absolute bare minimum she could do is take one look. One glance to punish herself for leaving Cindy in the hands of that monster, to see what horror she had thrust upon the shattered girl.

Stepping out the door and almost closing it behind her, Hannah peaked back through a thin sliver. Cindy was face down again with Mr. Deveno straddling the backs of her thighs, just as Izan had done much earlier. He raised his hands, all ten fingers wiggling as she squirmed and squeaked beneath him. Hannah closed the door shut tight just as her boss started to lower his hands. Hanging her head, she could hear the first of what would surely be many desperate giggles. She picked up her back and started walking away, Cindy’s laughter growing louder despite the increasing distance. Of all the tiring days in Mr. Deveno’s employ, this had surely been the longest.

Continued...
 
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Chapter Six: A Reunion, of Sorts​

Returning stateside took four separate flights but Emma didn’t care. She could sleep and wear clean clothes and afford decent meals and taxis. It was all Madam Ui’s money to spend as Emma saw fit, on the one condition she didn’t go anywhere near Harry Deveno Junior. A fair deal and one Emma swore agreement to, which is why she felt so guilty about catching a fifth flight from Los Angeles to San Francisco.

There was little point going back to New York, her apartment and job were long gone. Emma couldn’t go home, Jai Lin’s people would have snapped her up in a second. Through all the plane rides and nice hotels Emma had fully intended on holding up her end of the bargain with Ui. It was only when landing in L.A and finally having to make a decision about her next step that Emma concluded there was no other way. She didn’t like the last minute deception. Ui was quite likeable, despite her sins, and there was the added threat of betraying a woman who even Jai Lin had once feared. Still, as far as Emma saw it taking Jai Lin down was the most important thing. If achieving that meant a little more guilt added to her already heavy conscious then it was a price Emma was willing to pay.

Ultimately Ui’s money would only go so far. Without the direct involvement of the Madam herself Emma couldn’t think of any sensible to way to come at Jai Lin. The bottom line was Harry Deveno Jr. had a great deal of power and, even better, a great deal of motivation. She understood he was bad news, she had listened and listened well to Ui’s warnings, heard the horror stories of Deveno’s sadism in his youth. He was older now, Ui had cautioned her, and would be much worse. To Emma’s mind worse was exactly what she needed. Jai Lin and Mr. Lucas were monsters, and as far as she saw it there was no better way to fight such beasts than to have your own monster in your corner.

Deveno Tower was an ostentatious sight. Towering over San Francisco’s downtown the whole monolithic imposition wreaked of wealth. Out front a large courtyard stretched from the front doors to the street, the imposing architecture punctuated by a fountain at the center. Looming atop the fountain stood a stoic looking figure, a gold plaque on the fountain’s outer edge informing passersby that it was one Harold Deveno Senior. Under the man’s name read a list of grand characteristics and various grandiose achievements. Strangely, Emma thought as she walked by, the plaque mentioned nothing about Harold’s penchant for slave girls and sadistic torture.

Halfway along the side of the fountain and Emma walked in step with the morning crowd. Well-dressed office workers making their way into the tower’s maw for another busy day. For a fleeting moment she wondered what it would be like to have a regular job, assigned tasks and normal hours. A regular pay cheque, the kind of life that didn’t lead down rabbit holes of debauchery and merciless psychotics. Lost in thought, Emma almost bumped into the person in front of her, stopping short less than an inch away.

One section of the free-flowing crowd had halted, people awkwardly and begrudgingly muttering as they shuffled around something up ahead. Short as she was Emma couldn’t make out the obstruction until she was almost upon it. Someone working their way against the mass of people, a woman not much taller than her. She hadn’t meant to stare but the object of the crowd’s ire did look rather out of place. Her clothes were wrinkled and the buttons of her blouse were crooked, her stockings were torn. She carried her shoes, a pair of heels, and her blonde hair was a disheveled nest. Emma had seen similar sights in college, usually on her way to get to the library as the sun rose. A bedraggled sorority girl staggering back to her dorm after a hard night of partying. But this was no sorority girl and it didn’t look much like she had enjoyed the party.

“Cindy?” Emma stopped, turning back to follow the blonde.

The girl glanced back, one weary eye staring through her tangled locks. Emma’s jaw dropped a little, it was her. She’d almost blurted out the name before her memory had fully formed but the pieces were coming together rapidly now. Cindy Reid was her name, she’d been quite popular in high school. They hadn’t been friends, in fact Emma couldn’t ever remember saying two words to each other, but they’d shared a few classes. Of all the times and all the places to run into a old acquaintance from their hometown, this had to be one of the weirdest. Too weird, as it happened. Cindy turned away and started shoving faster through the crowd.

“Cindy, wait!” Emma slinked between a couple of people and side stepped another. In the sea of dark suits it was easy enough to spy Cindy’s white blouse. “Cindy!”

“Go away!” Cindy barked back, her voice hoarse.

Emma stretched to see over the oncoming people’s shoulders. Cindy had made it to where the crowd thinned out and she was walking so fast it was almost a jog. Breaking out of the hustle and bustle, Emma paused to scan the street. There she was, almost to the street. Where Cindy might go next there was no telling, she could leap into a cab or simply run through traffic and that was one risk Emma wasn’t willing to take. Lunging into a sprint, Emma locked the fleeing young woman in her sights.

“Cindy, stop!” She caught Cindy’s arm just as she was about to step off the curb.

“Get off!” Cindy whipped around, tugging at her arm and grabbing Emma’s wrist with her free hand.

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” Emma took a step back, glancing around to see a few curious side-eyes from partially interested pedestrians. “It’s me, Emma. Emma Clark, from high school, you remember?”

Cindy stared blankly, her back to the road with rush-hour traffic whizzing by. “I don’t care. Leave me alone.”

“Look I-I didn’t mean to chase you. I just….do you work in there or-“

“I’m not talking to you.”

“Please, please. I need your help.”

“If you follow me I’ll call the police.” Cindy said and turned toward the street.

“Wait-“ Emma grabbed her by the shoulder and stopped the blonde just short of being pancaked by a black panel-van that screeched up just inches from her nose. Before either of them could move the van’s side door slid quickly open and Luli and Wei reached out from the darkness. Cindy slipped right from Emma’s grasp as the two young women dragged Cindy flailing into their vehicle.

“You had better get in too.” Came a familiar voice from the front passenger side window as it rolled down. “Hurry up!” Barked Madam Ui.

If she’d had a second to think about it, Emma would have walked away. Barely back on home soil and her underhanded plan was already undone. Caught before even managing to carry out the first step. Walking away, that would have been the sensible, logical thing to do. Climbing into a dark van with the two women who’d tortured her, to say nothing of their domineering boss whom Emma betrayed, it wasn’t her most intelligent decision. Somehow though, when Madam Ui told her what to do Emma felt compelled to do it, so into the van she leapt.

“Naughty girl, Emma.” Ui said as Luli slammed the van door shut. Ui was giving Emma a piercing stare through the rear view mirror. Yumao was behind the wheel and poor Cindy Reid was struggling weakly, face down in the back with Wei and Luli holding atop her. “The one place I told you not to come, and here you are.”

“I know, I know but-“

“Never mind your excuses.” She said calmly as Yumao tore through traffic and ran a very hard yellow light. “Hopefully this sorry creature you were chasing has something useful for us.”

“I wasn’t chasing her I was-“

“Looks like Harry gave her a hell of a time.” Ui turned to look into the back of the van. “He’d have done the same to you if you’d gone up there, you know.”

Only then did Emma finally understand why Cindy looked the way she did. Why when everyone else was heading toward the tower, Cindy was staggering out of it. Perplexingly the puzzle somehow made both less and more sense. “We…we went to school together.” Emma said, thinking aloud. “Cindy…Mr. Lucas…he must have got to her but…” She turned to the wincing girl pinned to the van floor. “Cindy, what are you doing here?”

Cindy said nothing so Madam Ui spoke instead. “That is one almighty coincidence, Emma.”

Emma put herself on all fours and crawled closer to Cindy. “Cindy, why are you here? What happened to you? Was Mr. Lucas involved? Did he do something to you senior year?” The disgruntled girl avoided making eye contact as Emma barraged her with questions. “Please, any information would be helpful. Do you know the name Jai Lin?”

Her eyes darted directly to Emma, a look about her that said she was all too familiar with the name. “I don’t know anything.” Cindy said shakily before looking away again.

Ui turned back toward the front of the van. “We’ll see about that.”

Chapter Seven: The Price of Luxury
Why Gwendolyn Deveno worked as hard as she did was a question the statuesque billionaire asked herself at least once a week. There was no need for it, she could have paid people to do most of her tasks a million times over. Spent her days lounging around on tropical beaches, amusing herself in salacious affairs with young pop-stars or go for weeks at a time to some private getaway like her late husband used to do. Instead of all that Gwen had used up most of the last two decades in board meetings or involving herself with high level negotiations, setting up charities and taking on one large industrious project after another.

They’d called her a trophy wife when she and Harold first got married, and a gold digger when he’d died. Barely into her twenties at the time and billions of dollars left in her lap. Now in her early forties Gwen spent six days a week, ten months out of the year doing everything she could to prove them wrong. Why she’d ever cared what ‘they’ thought about her was a more recent question the widow had been asking herself. Staring out the towering windows of her giant conservatory and looking back at her life on Wednesday mornings, it was as much a part of the weekly routine as anything else now.

Gwen turned from the view of her enormous outdoor garden and sauntered slowly toward a dainty table where her morning coffee sat steaming. Never was she more comfortable than on a Wednesday, the one day of the week she felt somewhat close to free. Oh, she still took the odd phone call and made the occasional online meeting but for the most part Wednesdays were her day. No security team, no assistants, no need for showy attire. Fluffy white slippers and a soft towel were about the most Gwen committed to wearing on her day off. She always liked to make sure the towel was just a little too small for the job, tied so tight that it ballooned her hefty bosoms into squishy cleavage like she was wearing a corset. For all his professionalism her massage therapist Tom couldn’t help but steal glances, and it always gave Gwen quite the lascivious little thrill.

In the middle of the grand conservatory sat her massage table, making Gwen the centerpiece of the beautiful room whenever she lay there. Toward the back wall were the stairs, made from brilliant white marble and running up to double doors. Gwen loved descending that staircase, seeing her jungle-like garden out back and the collection of rare tropical plants that lined the walls of the room. High above the glass ceiling was supported by ornately designed gold metalwork, the whole place designed to be spectacular no matter which direction one might look. Funnily enough Gwen tended to always take her massages laying face down. It was a fact that amused her greatly, as her only view became the dark floor tiles rather than the display of opulence all around her.

Precisely on time Gwen heard one of the doors above click open. She picked up her coffee and took in its satisfying aroma, looking up the stairs just in time to watch her masseur close the door behind him. He was dressed as usual, dark trousers and lace up shoes, a light blue polo shirt with the massage agency’s logo embroidered tastefully on the left of the chest. As he turned toward Gwen her brow furrowed slightly, it seemed the uniform was the only thing familiar about him.

“Where’s Tom?” She squinted a little at the unknown man descending her staircase. He had an unusual manner about him, not quite off-putting, perhaps even attractive in a curious way, yet uncommon just the same.

“Unwell I’m afraid.” He had the hint of an accent, perhaps from somewhere in South America.

Where exactly he was from was hard to say at a glance, or how old he was. Twenty maybe, or a youthful thirty, Gwen couldn’t tell. Tall and lean with muscle, tidy dark hair. She certainly had no complaints about how the unannounced change in personnel looked, it was more the irregular shift in her routine that she found irksome. As he got to the bottom of the stairs an odd smile spread across his face, his lips moving as they should have but his cheeks and eyes didn’t quite light up the way one’s expression normally would.

“And you are?” Gwen set her coffee down and made a point of looking ever-so-slightly down her nose at the man.

“Matias, Mrs. Deveno.” He put a small black satchel down beside the massage table. “I apologize for the late change, but I assure you I am every bit as skilled as our friend Thomas. The agency would not have sent me otherwise.”

“Hm.” Incredulous though she was, Gwen did take enough pity on Matias for the awkward position he’d been put in to stop glaring at him quite so snootily. “Very well.” She padded her slippers across the tile toward him. “But I’ll be having some stern words with your bosses later today for this dreadful lapse in communication. Very professional on their part.”

With an agreeable nod, Matias gestured one welcoming hand to the massage table. Just as Tom always would, the new masseur made a point of picking a spot on the floor and keeping his eyes there while she climbed up. Standing on her knees, Gwen faced the head of the table and loosened her towel. It was an ungainly task, laying down while keeping the towel spread outward in either hand, and saving her the embarrassment of watching was one of two key reasons the masseur always looked away. The other reason, and arguably the more important one, was if he were to glance over at the moment just before Gwen laid down he’d have got a direct view right up between her voluptuous thighs.

“All set?” Matias reached down to his satchel as Gwendolyn set her face into the cushioned headrest.

“Mm.” She muttered, her focus more on making sure she was sufficiently covered. She pushed the towel down in a bunch around her lower back, her long hair splayed out across her mostly bare back. Underneath, Gwen’s large milky white breasts swelled out from either side. The towel draped over her curvaceous behind, the bottom edge of it running over the backs of her thighs.

“Would you like me to remove your slippers?” Matias stood up from his bag.

“No.” Gwen shifted her upturned feet a little. “They stay on.”

“No foot massage? I’m very good.”

“No one touches my feet.” She said with a definitive finality to the conversation, and it was true. Not a single soul had put their hands on Gwendolyn’s feet in over twenty years. She did her own pedicures, and even that was a monumental challenge each time.

“Fair enough.” Matias tapped gently on the underside of her wrist. “Arms up.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Put your arms above your head, if you don’t mind.” He walked alongside her, stopping beside the headrest. She could see the tips of his shoes on the tile below.

“Is that necessary?”

“For my best work, yes it is.” He spoke softly, a calm confidence in his voice. “I appreciate this is probably not what you are used to, but I have trained all over the world. My focus is always on maximizing my client’s relaxation. Follow my lead and I guarantee you by the time we are done here you will feel like you have melted.”

“Anything less than perfection, Matias-“ Gwen raised her right arm, resting her wrist on the headrest just above the top of her head. “-and Tom’s absence today won’t be the only thing I speak to your bosses about.”

“Very good, Mrs. Deveno.” If Matias was at all shaken his voice didn’t show it. She set her left hand up above her head and crossed it over her right. “This is a technique I learned in the luxury spa houses of Turkey.” He placed one hand atop her wrists without a hint of pressure. “There they believe an increased sense of vulnerability helps to massively enhance a client’s reception to touch.” Matias’ hand pushed down firmly on Gwen’s wrists, holding them squarely in place.

“What are you-“ She raised her head, just in time to see the unconventional massage therapist start to twirl a thin white thread around her wrists. “Hey!” Gwen tugged at her arms as Matias used his free hand to spin the thread through the headrest and back up over her hands. “What-what the hell do you think you’re doing?” She pulled at her arms again but they were pinned tight.

“Relax, please, Mrs. Deveno.”

“I will not! Let me go, stop it!” She pushed up, her fleshy cleavage mashing beneath her as she made fists with her hands. “Are you out of your mind?!”

“It’s nothing to worry about.” Matias spoke as if he wasn’t wrapping the white binding tighter around the irritated woman’s wrists. “As I said, this is very popular in Turkey. Many masseurs around the world are adopting these techniques.”

“I don’t care what’s popular in Turkey or Timbuktu or anywhere else.” Gwen glared up him. “I will not be tied up, now let me go.”

“You will be okay.” He pulled the long end of the thread, twirled it nimbly around itself in a flurry of loops and let it drop in a neatly tied knot.

Struck by disbelief at the man’s utter disregard toward her demands, Gwen craned her neck to watch as Matias slowly walked down toward the foot of the table. Moving himself directly behind her, Gwen watched out the corner of one eye as he reached into his trouser pocket and retrieved another length of the same white thread. Completely perplexed as to what he might be planning to do with that she continued staring back over one shoulder, widening her eyes sharply when he grabbed her left ankle.

“No!” Gwen snapped, jerking her leg and feeling a jolt of surprise when it didn’t immediately break free. “Absolutely not!” She barked, making sure the venom in her voice couldn’t be misunderstood for anything else. She pulled sharply on her leg again and even though Matias only held it with one hand he was still able to maneuver her foot toward the corner of the table. “Do you hear me?! We’re done here, you can forget this job! You are fired, now let me out of this before I sue you into oblivion!”

As he pinned her ankle over the corner and let her foot dangle off the edge, Gwen continued her tirade of threats. Just as he’d done with her wrists, the unyielding masseur used his free hand to begin spinning another wicked web around her ankle. Threading and looping the binding under the table and around the wooden leg, Matias didn’t hesitate for a moment as Gwen promised to destroy him, ruin his employer, see he and the employer both go bankrupt, and have him thrown in prison. When her left ankle was securely tied to the table he pulled yet another thread from his pants pocket. This time Gwen was a bit more wily, whipping her right leg away and avoiding Matias’ grasp. Sadly her escape attempt lasted all of two tries as he snagged her ankle on the third. Almost effortlessly, Matias pulled and pinned Gwen’s ankle, putting it directly opposite her other leg.

“You are done! Done!” Gwen’s cheeks were a little flushed from continually pulling against the bonds.

“Please calm down.” Matias strolled up the right side of the table once her right leg was bound, and stopped to stand beside his struggling client. “Just take a few deep breaths and I promise you will soon feel a deep ecstasy.”

“So much as put a finger on me and I promise you’ll soon be feeling my foot in your groin!”

“Allow me to help you relax…”

“Ah!” Gwen jerked to her left when Matias brushed a single finger across her right side. “Don’t touch me!”

He’d barely dragged his fingertip an inch but the effect was more than a little alarming. Restrained in place, the instinct to bring her arms down was denied and it sent a flood of anxiousness through Gwen’s core. Matias’ words about vulnerability echoed in her mind as the fear of what his true intentions might be swirled in her thoughts. He’d tied the knots well and she wasn’t getting out of them through brute force, which left Gwen entirely at the man’s mercy. Of all the times for her security team to take a day off, though she strongly suspected the timing was no accident.

“What do you want, hm?” Gwen stretched to look back over her shoulder at him, her arms tense as she continued to pry them free. “Look, it is abundantly obvious you’re not here for my massage so I can only imagine you want money. Just tell me how much and let’s get this over with.”

“If only life were so simple.” He started to move his hand toward her defenseless side.

“No, nnno!” Gwen shifted her hips, moving as far from his hand as her trapped position would allow. “Touch me again and prison will be the least of your worries!” His hand stopped and Matias looked at her like he’d never worried about anything and wasn’t about to start now. “I’ll write a cheque or transfer or cash, anything you want! Name your price!”

“I’m not here for money.” He said softly and started slowly wiggling five fingers just inches from her delicate skin.

“Wh-what are you doing?!” Pulling harder at her forcibly bound limbs, Gwen’s voice went a little higher than she’d have liked. “No! Don’t do that!” She watched wide-eyed as the gradually approaching digits inched closer. “Enough! Enough, stop! Don’t you dare!”

With barely an inch left between her supple flesh and Matias’ nearing fingers, Gwen tensed herself rigid. Her mind raced with questions why her Wednesday morning had taken such a drastic turn for the worse and no answers were coming. Panic rattled her thought process, unable to think straight as the dreadful anticipation of those calmly threatening fingertips took hold. Of all the things Gwen imagined Matias might have done to her while tied up this was not among them, but it was easily the most distressing.

“Nohoho!” She spasmed the instant his fingers grazed against the side of her midriff, hardly touching her. “I’m serious!” Gwen growled with her eyes fixed on his fingers, still wiggling severely close to her. “Just tell me what you want! Okay? Okay? You win!”

“I win?”

“Yes! You’re in charge, you got me! Name it, anything you want!”

“That was easy.”

“Well-“ Gwen spoke through heavy, stressed breaths. “-you have me at a considerable disadvantage. I have no position to bargain from.” She kept talking, as long as she was talking it meant Matias’ wasn’t putting his wiggling digits on her. “You have all the power here. All of it.”

“Mm…” He tilted his head thoughtfully to one side. “I am not so convinced you would give anything. Not yet.”

“Nono! I would! I mean it, I swear to you!” And she did mean it, truly and wholeheartedly Gwen would have given him every dollar she had if it meant not being tickled again.

“Okay, you say you’re serious…” Matias held up his other hand and made a point of showing her those five fingers, which started dancing in the air as well. “Then you will still be serious when I am done.”

“No! Nono!” Gwen squirmed as he reached one hand over her bare back. With wiggling fingers hovering on either side her stomach tensed hard, trying as best she could to shrink down or somehow disappear through the massage table. “Help!” She stared out toward her garden, wide eyes searching desperately around the greenery for someone, anyone to hear her plea. Of course it was Wednesday, and none of her gardeners worked Wednesdays. “Help me! He’s crazzzeeehehehehe!”

Throwing her head back, a stream of girlish giggles burst out of her. Gwen’s shapely hips wriggled wildly as she tried to dodge away from one of Matias’ hands, then immediately dart away from the other. Unable to avoid the five fingertips speedily stroking her sides, Gwen kicked her dangling slippers uselessly as her knees jabbed rapidly into the cushiony tabletop. Pulling her arms with far greater force than before proved no more successful, her hands resorting to curling over the headrest and clawing at the firmly bound thread keeping her in place. After the first few seconds of chaos Matias’ fingers crept a little higher, feathering maddeningly just under her bottom ribs.

“Stop it! Eeehehehe!” Gwen squealed, shaking her head, long blonde locks following messily along. Instead of doing as he was told, Matias crawled his fingers lower down the sides of her tummy until they were doing their devilish dance just above her hips at the edge of the towel. “I’ll bury you!” She squeaked, dropping her forehead against the headrest and closing her eyes tight. “Eiehehe! Eiiiehehehe!”

Though she couldn’t quite understand why she was being forced into a state of ticklish turmoil, Gwen did know it must have had something to do with her late husband. A jealous lover’s long overdue revenge perhaps, Harold had left more than his fair of those in his wake back in the day. How that might have worked Gwen had no idea, Matias seemed much too young to be anything more than a child when Harold was still above ground. Not that it particularly mattered in the moment, nothing mattered beyond the inescapable feeling of those ten fiendish fingers scribbling up and down her sides.

“If you keep moving around your towel’s going to slip off.” Matias’ light strokes turned to a series of gentle prods that tapped up and around Gwen’s heaving ribs.

Completely topless, she already felt horridly bare and the thought of becoming further exposed sent Gwen’s nerve endings into a frenzy of hypersensitive awareness. One of the many cruel ironies of being excruciatingly ticklish, a lesson she’d learned the hard way in her youth; It wasn’t enough to explode with laughter when faced against someone’s teasing touch, but in fate’s truly sadistic fashion Gwen somehow felt even more susceptible against every poke and prod the more defenseless she became. No one had taught her quite so many lessons about how terrible tickling could truly be as Harold had, and certainly no one had taught them as effectively.

As she felt Matias wiggle a few fingertips into the soft spots between her ribs Gwen gasped, deeper belly laughter mixing with her higher pitch giggles. What she intended to come out as snarling, angry demands instead distorted into squeaking pleas, the fury of her orders all but stripped away by involuntary giddiness. There had only ever been one other person in Gwen’s life bold enough to ignore her when told to stop tickling and, as if to pile on her rapidly increasingly dismay, those memories were playing through her mind’s eye with a vengeance now.

She’d been nineteen when Harold first approached her, he was the picture of charm and kindness. A handsome older billionaire with a heart of gold, only the gold had been painted on and what demons lay hidden beneath Gwen didn’t discover until it was much too late. Maybe she could have seen the signs, Harold did tend to tickle her more than most men she’d known. As it turned out all those rib-squeezing, tummy poking wrestling matches that seemed like boisterous flirting were nothing more than a minor preview of the horrors to come. She’d wheeze and cough and slap at him and after a few minutes he’d stop, always with a hungry gleam in his eye. Not until their honeymoon did Gwen learn the extent of Harold’s true and terrible desires. Alone on his yacht in the open ocean he’d tied her up, which was fun and exciting, but for her the fun had ended there. And so went their brief and abruptly-ended marriage, Harold with his ropes and complete lack of pity, Gwen stuck with a man who loved nothing more than to torture her every chance he got.

While Matias’ fingers spread out and he clawed quickly at her ribcage Gwen laughed loudly, her cheeks blushing pink. Try as she might to push them away the memories of her marriage wouldn’t subside, the masseur’s every tickling touch a jolting reminder of Harold’s various torments. They’d been other men over the years, a playful goose of the ribs here, an accidental stroke in the wrong spot there, she’d shut them all down quickly. Few lovers since Harold ever insisted on tickling Gwen after she’d told them to stop and the small amount that had quickly regretted it. Of course none of those men had ever tied her up and even if they had done the security team was never far away.

“Okay! Okay! Ehehe!” Gwen shook angrily, her back muscles flexing as she squirmed. “You maheyeehaha! You made your pohoint!”

“Oh yes?” Matias took his clawing hands and jumped them straight down to her sides. “And what point is that?”

“Ahahaha!” Fingers poked deep into the outer edges of her midriff and the maniac masseur’s thumbs drilled into her back. Gwen wormed wildly in place, unable to stop the laughter spilling out of her. “Stop it! Ahaha! Ohnohostop! Eeiihahaha!”

Her fingers spread wide, the effort of clawing at her bonds wasted as Matias fingers squeezed rapidly into her flesh. Between every quick intake of air and bubbling bout of laughter Gwen squawked her demands, stop, get off, let me go. Each one of her sharp calls for compliance received only more poking and stroking in reply. By the one-minute mark she’d already been tickled more than she had in the last twenty years and it was a crushing thought to find her curvaceous body hadn’t become any less ticklish since then. Perhaps Gwen had simply forgotten what it felt like to be so powerless, or maybe Matias’ objectionable skills were better than Harold’s, whatever it was she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was even more sensitive now than she had been in her younger years.

“Not there! Eheihaha! Notthere!” Gwen rolled as five fingers ran over her ribs and started frolicking around the squishy outer sides of her large bosoms. “Ahaha! Ahaha!” Her expression twisted between exasperated rage and befuddled laughter, mouth open wide as she rocked from side to side.

Matias’ deft fingers switched wildly between infuriatingly gentle strokes and small pokes, often combining the two in a maddening mix. Throwing herself from side to side continuously made one of her large breasts balloon beneath her while the other was almost exposed completely. To protect her left side Gwen rolled right and Matias’ immediately spidered five fingertips under her, reaching dangerously close to her barely hidden nipple. In a squealing panic she shot left, the masseur repeating the same unavoidable attack on her other side. Locked in a dance of agonizing death-rolls the helpless woman could see no way out, a predicament made all the more troubling as his speedy digits kept sweeping severely close to her vulnerable underarms.

“Tell mehehehe!” Gwen squealed and it took considerable effort to manage even that. “Tellmewhatyouwant! Ahahahaha!”

“You won’t give it to me.”

“Ehehahaha! I will!” She gasped, quite a bit pinker in the cheeks when Matias finally stopped. “I will! I’ll give you anything! I’ll buy you an island!”

“I don’t want an island. You’re not ready yet.”

“I-I am!” Stammering as she caught her breath, Gwen watched anxiously over her shoulder as Matias placed both his hands flat on the table beside her. “I’ll prove it! Just tell me how to prove it!”

Straightening his arms, the enigmatic man raised one knee up onto the massage table. “You can’t.” He shifted his weight, pulling his other leg up off the ground, all the while Gwen looked on with an ever-deepening sense of horror. “I will know when you are ready.”

“N-no! You don’t have to do this!” She pulled desperately at her bonds as Matias swung one leg over the small of her back. Kneeling either side of her, he sat down just above Gwen’s tailbone and pinned her hips firmly against the table. “I swear to GOD! I swear on my LIFE!” She yelled, the tendons in her neck stretching as she able to put a significant amount of stress in her tone without the giggling undermining it all.

“I believe you believe it.” Matias wiggled two fingers into the nape of Gwen’s neck and she quickly tucked her face against her shoulder with a squeak. “In this moment you will do anything.”

“Yehes! Eiiestooop!” Two fingers wormed their way down the other side of her neck and she threw her head to that side, her expression contorting awkwardly.

“The problem is-“ He ran a wavering fingertip down Gwen’s spine and she squirmed as goosebumps prickled up her arms. “-what I need you to do, you cannot do from this table.”

“S-so let me up!”

“If I do that now you will call the police.”

“No! I won’t! I won’t I sweeaiieehehehe!” Matias drilled a single fingertip in between two of her ribs and kept it wriggling there. No amount of rolling could chase the offending digit off, she couldn’t turn that far over.

“I will let you up when I am certain you will do as you’re told.” He poked the fingertip deep, shifting it back and forth in a hopelessly tender spot that sent Gwen giggling madly. “Until then…” Ten fingers shot up both sides and ran freely into each of her outstretched underarms.

“AAHAHAHA! AAH! NOHOHAHA!” Spasming so hard the massage table creaked, screaming laughter cackled out of her gaping mouth. Gwen’s eyes burst open in abject shock, the sensation of Matias’ inescapable touch dancing around her silky smooth hollows driving her into an instant mania.

Gwendolyn hated being tickled, she always had. Even before meeting Harold she knew on a primal level that tickling was something she never wanted anything to do with. Touched anywhere in that particular way, with that particular intent, Gwen would lose all control, her body instantly repelling away from the assault. How much she wanted to keep her cool was irrelevant, no amount of mental fortitude could keep her from giggling, laughing and trying to run for the hills. And it was her whole body too, there was no inch of her buxom frame that was free from being so sensitive. Painful a fact as that was, Gwen found it even more tragic that some areas of her delicate skin were multiple levels above being just plain old terribly ticklish. Some areas, such as her underarms, veered into the nightmarish realm of the hyperticklish.

Whenever Gwen looked downward she could see Matias’ fingers doing their cruel tango just above either side of her squishing cleavage. The sight of her devastatingly sensitive skin being touched was one she’d have preferred never to have seen, yet clenching her eyes shut tight didn’t make things any better. Bucking as forcibly as she could got her nowhere with the masseur’s weight on her back. Other than endlessly kicking her slippers all Gwen could do was feebly twist her torso a few inches side to side, not a microsecond’s rest from the relentlessly skating fingertips.

Laughing harder by the second, Gwen’s stretched cheeks quickly turned from solid pink to emergency red. Her eyes sprang open at random, the world blurred as she shook her head violently. Two syllable words were impossible amongst the screeching and even the single syllable demands rarely came out uninterrupted. As one minute dragged into another Gwen’s sense of time disappeared, each second stretching into a ticklish ordeal that was more torturous than the one before it. Matias’ underarm onslaught had quickly made his initial side-assault look like childish teasing by comparison. Though lost in the riotous clamor of her own laughter it was still terrifyingly clear that the sadistic masseur was every bit as merciless as her late husband.

“No more!” Gwen wheezed breathily in a break that lasted exactly two seconds. Five fingers pinched down along her ribs and the laughter bubbled out of her before she’d caught a breath. “Nahaha! Nomorhorhor! Naiehehehe!”

With his hands lobster-clawing against her slender sides, Matias shuffled himself backward. As he slid further down the table, straddling Gwen’s bouncing butt as he went, the athletically built man’s own well-toned ass pushed her towel back with him. Lifting one leg and then the other, he positioned himself snuggly between her rapidly kicking knees, the fluffy towel now halfway down her plump, peach-shaped ass. Apparently not one to leave a job half done, Matias took the towel in one hand while continuing to tickle her side with the other and pulled it quickly away. Tossing the towel aside, Gwen was left entirely nude, save for her much needed slippers.

“Please nohaheiehehe!” Feeling her bare behind in the open air the newly naked woman let her pride sail away. There was no more point in continuing to bark demands at the man, even the orders she could snap at him without laughing didn’t seem to intimidate. Trying to squeeze obedience out of someone while tied up and nude fell beyond the borders of absurd, Gwen thought as she continued to squeak. Begging was her only sensible recourse now. “Eeehiehehe! Pleahehehe! Pleasestopeieie!”

“I’m not going to stop, Mrs. Deveno.” Matias danced his fingers around to the small of her back. It didn’t tickle quite so much there, but she was in such a fitful state of ticklishness she kept giggling anyway, her curvy ass cheeks flexing as she squirmed. “I’m going to tickle you from top to bottom.”

True to his word Matias pounced all ten fingers clawing at her bare butt. “IIIEEHAHA! AHNO!” Gwen shrieked, arching her back and gyrating her hips feverishly from side to side.

With one hand spread over each firm cheek the fiendish masseur dug his fingertips into her bafflingly ticklish buns. High-pitched, squealing laughter tore out of Gwen as she fought against the ropes, the pained expression on her face contorting to one of helpless puzzlement. Of all the places for someone to tickle her, the ass had always been one of the most unusual. Luckily only one other person had ever figured out how dreadfully ticklish Gwen’s behind was, unluckily that one person had been her late husband. As Matias’ rapid squeezing worked lower and pinched savagely around the undersides of her cheeks the memories hit her hard.

Harold had tickled her ass in more hellishly creative ways in their time together than she could possibly remember. Their honeymoon had been one of the worst, the morning after that first harrowing night. By the time she’d woken up Harold was already out on the deck, sunbathing contently in a gentle sea breeze. He’d got carried away, that was all, Gwen convinced herself as she’d wandered nervously over to him, he’d been caught up in the excitement of their new marriage. It was good for couples to try new things and spice things up, see what works and what doesn’t. Being tied spread eagled to a bed and having your body used like a hyperticklish amusement park hadn’t worked for Gwen, and she told him as much.

Oh, how Harold had apologized. He’d had no idea, he said while hugging her and kissing her cheek, he thought she was okay with it. Sure Gwen had spent the evening screaming for him to stop, crying and pleading until her voice ran hoarse, but she was laughing all the while. Laughing meant she must have liked it, Harold insisted as he’d guided her back to the master bedroom, but he understood now that he was mistaken. As the kissing grew heavier and she kissed him back they’d rolled onto the bed together, the young woman letting her imposing lover lead the dance as always. On to her stomach she went, Harold swiftly loosening her stringy bikini top, she moaning joyfully beneath him. When he’d pulled her hands behind her back she rather enjoyed it, only questioning his intent too late when the bikini top was used to bind her wrists together. Still, Gwen had believed her husband’s apparent regret, at least until he used a thin length of nylon rope to bind her ankles.

When Matias switched from squeezing to flickering his fingertips across her bouncing buns, Gwen remembered what Harold did next like it had just happened. Lifting her bound feet toward the ceiling he’d taken the slack end of rope and looped it through a small metal ring on the ceiling. Trapped on her back, legs in the air, the new bride dangled with little more than her upper back touching the bed. She’d begged him to show mercy, apologized for complaining, swore she’d never whine about being tickled ever again. As Gwen fretted on her husband’s bed his response was to silently peel her g-string bikini bottoms off, sliding them up to hang loose around her trembling knees. That was when Harold grabbed at her defenseless ass, the poor girl instantly flopping atop the bed in squealing torment, twisting and turning and having no escape from his punishment. Oh, how Gwen had apologized.

“NEEIHEEHEHEE! PLEHEEHEE!” Gwen squeezed her cheeks together tight as Matias’ fingertips fluttered up and down her crack. His fingers wiggled down between her thighs and she shrieked, her hips bouncing against the tabletop like a jackhammer.

Hectic, crazed laughter filled the conservatory. Spiking abruptly, Gwen’s squealing pleas went higher in pitch when five fingers ran down the back of her right thigh. Kicking violently what little she could, there was no way to predict where Matias’ roaming digits would fondle her next. While one hand persistently danced up and down the center of her ass cheeks, the other set of fingertips explored every sensitive inch along the backs and insides of her legs. Behind the knees, up the insides of her thighs, Gwen shook breathlessly each time Matias stroked within an inch of her smooth shaven pussy. He’d sweep quickly away every time she’d freeze and throw her into raucous hysterics all over again.

“EYIEE!” She yelped when without pause the masseur took both her fleshy buns in hand and caressed his palms brutishly across her skin.

Matias slid his hands around Gwen’s wiggling hips and with a forceful tug lifted her midsection off the table. She fought back, squirming weakly from all the exertion and unable to close the couple of inches between herself and the cushioned top. He leaned forward, pulling her close, her bare butt pressing into what felt like a surprisingly muscular set of abs. Wheezing, gasping and blubbering senselessly, Gwen felt certain the strapping young man was about to take full advantage of his position. Instead, in a move she almost certainly should have guessed, Matias dug his fingers into the soft spots just inside her hipbones.

“AIIEENONO!” Bucking fiercely yet still failing to close the gap, Gwen found herself trapped between her tormentor’s chiseled lower stomach and his ceaselessly savage fingers.

Holding her firm, Matias drilled four fingers into the outer edges of her lower tummy while his thumbs prodded repeatedly into the upper sides of her squished ass cheeks. Straining to throw him off her, Gwen screamed with an almighty effort, her eyes clenched shut, face beet red and smile lines deep, mouth open wide in an anguished howl. Her eyes burst open again, her hips barely having shifted despite all the willpower exhausted on the attempt and she continued to laugh madly. Lost in her own personal nightmare, powerless to do anything outside of Matias’ control, she could only careen further towards the outer edges of her sanity as he slid one hand higher up her convulsing stomach.

Fingertips fluttered up Gwen’s abdomen, stopping only to frolic around her belly button like pixies around a mushroom. With an impish carelessness those five fingers swirled and spun, stroking in close to the rim of her navel and flicking away again, a move repeated over and over that kept her screeching. As the combination of hip and tummy torture wore on Gwen’s bare back and sides, her bulbous breasts and heaving stomach all began to gleam with a coating of hot sweat. Droplets ran down her forehead, rolling over her furiously frowning brows and down her aching cheeks. Even at his most sadistic Harold would stop here and there, pause to tease her or take a breath himself, but Matias was something else. He didn’t break, didn’t hesitate, he moved from one preposterously ticklish part of her to the next in stoic, terrifying silence.

“NEEEIIIEHEEE!” Gwen wailed, throwing her head around in sporadic lunacy when one of the masseur’s devilish fingertips spiraled into her belly button. As he spun the finger against every hypersensitive side at once and stroked deep within, her squealing words sounded more like a yowling dog than pleas for mercy. “GETITOUT! EIEHEEIE! OUTAHAHAAA!”

Certain the relentless pace would drive her off the deep end, Gwen imagined that losing her mind might be preferable to enduring another second of Matias’ tickling while still partway sane. Nonetheless, the sweat-soaked and trapped billionaire didn’t feel very levelheaded, especially as she felt her hips drop suddenly and fingers spider quickly up her sides. From shrieking laughter straight back to girlish giggles, Gwen wriggled and writhed, panting desperately. Up and down the edges of her midriff, Matias’ kept her squeaking mindlessly, her shapely ass dancing to his wicked tune. She buried her head in the headrest, closing her eyes with a helpless grin, only throwing her head back to squeal when he pinched at the bottom of her ribs.

“Pleaheehee! Stahaha!” Spasming fitfully, Gwen could hardly finish a word before insuppressible mirth cut her off. As her sides gradually turned to a heavily massaged pink hue she racked her tickle-addled mind for something, anything to say that might stop him, if only for a few precious seconds. “Moneiehehee!” Got her nowhere, just as it had before. “I’ll suhahaeiehehe!” She sputtered, jerking violently when Matias clawed at her sides. “I’ll suck yieehehehehe!” She tried again, descending into miserable giggles when his digits danced around the ballooning sides of her fleshy bosoms. “Anythiheheing! Anythiiiingahaha!” Was the last in a long string of desperate, half comprehensionable deals that had all failed to illicit any response from the man.

A single, tiny tear trickled down the side of Gwen’s face and for that she received five fingers scribbling into both of her underarms. Roaring with laughter, it was a few atrocious seconds into having her hollows ravaged again that it became clear Matias was a far more fearsome tickler than Harold had ever been. The passage of time might have clouded her mind but she didn’t think so, whoever he was, wherever he was from, the younger of the two men had a perpetual energy driving him. There was no doubt in her mind that the masseur’s talent for the tickling touch far exceeded that of her late husband’s and the combination of skill and endless energy made Matias much more terrifying. Never would Gwen have thought she’d have preferred to be at Harold’s mercy than someone else’s, but as she felt those ten fingers clawing viciously into her ribs she found a dreadful kind of nostalgia accompany her abhorrent old memories.

Vision blurred by watery eyes, Gwen’s head dropped limply into the headrest. Her back raised and lowered quickly with much needed breaths and her hands hung without moving. Feeling Matias’ weight lift off of her she realized that for the first time in an immeasurable amount of time she wasn’t being tickled anymore, yet there was no relief. Hearing his shoes land upon the tile with cat-like softness could only mean that he was maneuvering for some new round of ticklish horrors, there was no kindness in the break. Gasping as deep and hungrily as she could, Gwen knew she was going to need every molecule of breath for whatever cruelty he would make her suffer next.

“N-no…” Her voice cracked with a sob when she felt one of Matias’ fingers flick gently across the side of one upturned slipper. “Y-you can’t…you can’t, please…” She choked back another sob and wiggled her feet nervously.

“Top to bottom, Mrs. Deveno.” He tapped the back of the same slipper and her foot jerked away, though it hardly moved far. “Did you think that meant something else?”

“Please!” Gwen gasped, putting every ounce of trembling, desperate panic in her voice and hoping somewhere, somehow deep inside the man behind her was even the most miniscule sense of pity. Matias tapped the sole of her slipper. “PLEASE NO! You-you can believe me! You can believe me now! You don’t have to do this!” Her voice strained, squeaking and hoarse.

“I believe you believe it.”

“Oh noooo! Nonono!” She felt Matias pinch the backs of both slippers and she wriggled her feet in every direction, any direction, trying to find some way to get them free of his grip. “No! Pleasepleaseplease!”

With painstakingly slow movements, the masseur pulled each slipper back from Gwen’s heels. Curling her toes inside their protective shell she tried to grasp at the fluffy interiors, all the while they were gradually moved further and further away. Feeling open air across her pale, marshmallowy soft heels made her heart pound inside her ears, the fear of Matias’ intent squeezing at her insides. Her high, silky arches felt the brush of exposure next. When the last fluffy frond slipped from between Gwen’s slender toes the slippers were plucked away, and with them any hope she might have had left. Despite knowing her fate was sealed the bare foot billionaire couldn’t stop herself from continuing to beg profusely.

“I’ll do anything! ANYTHING!” Gwen yelled, blubbering and shaking as tears began rolling down her cheeks.

Matias crouched down beside the massage table and opened his satchel. “I am certain you would. I imagine it has been quite some time since anyone has tickled your feet, yes?”

The words hit her like lightning and all Gwen could do was take fast, sharp breaths and squirm helplessly at her restraints. It had, in fact, been a very long time indeed since anyone beside herself had gone anywhere near her feet. Delicate as porcelain sculptures, precisely pampered by her own hand, Gwen’s feet were the one excruciatingly ticklish place on her whole body she could reliably prevent from being even accidentally stroked. A year into her marriage she’d finally built up the courage to leave Harold and stormed out of one of his mansions in very dramatic fashion. Less than a week later he’d tracked her down and, knowing full well how horridly afraid his young wife was of having her feet touched, strapped her down and tickled them in every diabolical way he could think of. Punishment for running, and a stark reminder what awaited her if she ever decided to flee again.

Gwen remember then, as her toes wriggled in terror, that Harold was now the second most frightening tickler she’d ever met. “N-n-now look-look…” She stuttered, her faculties failing her as the sheer dread of her situation took hold. Stretching back to look over her shoulder, eyes wide and brows quivering, Gwen’s bottom lip trembled as she watched Matias stand up with two long black feathers swirling between his fingers. “Don’t…” One last fruitless effort to sound commanding came out instead as a mess of panicked sobs. “D-d-don’t….don’tdon’tdon’t….”

As Matias stepped up to the far end of the table, a feather in each hand, Gwen could feel the bottoms of her feet begin to tingle. In her weeping state it was all she could do to not start giggling, her nose wrinkling and lips twisting even though nothing had touched her. Using every ounce of willpower she had to hold back her laughter, the rest of Gwen’s body was squirming and struggling without her say-so. It was as if her own physical form was arguing with her, screaming at her to not let the feathers near it. However, against the protests of both her physical and mental self, Matias drew one feather up in the air like a paint brush and spun it slowly a few inches from her right sole.

“AIIEE!” Gwen jolted violently when the finely pointed tip skimmed briefly across the center of her bare foot. So light was the stroke she wasn’t even entirely convinced the feather had touched her at all, yet either way it was a shocking reminder of how disgracefully ticklish her dainty feet really were. Though Gwen knew they were sensitive beyond reason it was possible time had muted the memories a little, Matias’ tiny reminder serving to renew her fears immensely.

“When I let you go-“ Matias swept the other feather tip across her left heel causing her to shriek and spasm. “-you’re going to do exactly as I say.”

“Yes! Yes! I-EEIIE!” He flickered the right-hand feather again, this time along the balls of her foot.

“And once you’re free-“ Another swipe.

“EEINO!”

“-if you should have thoughts about not doing as you’re told-”

“AHA!”

“-I want you to remember-“

“AIEHEE!”

“-everything that’s about to happen.”

“NO PLEASE!” Gwen’s toes stretched back, the tendons along the top of her feet protruding as she tensed madly against her bonds. “You don’t have to! I get it! I get it!”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Matias swirled both feathers around her stretched arches. “By the time I’m done you definitely will.”

“AIIIIIEEEEEEHEHAHAHA!” Her toes curled, wrinkling her soles as she howled. The twin feathers whisked menacingly up to the edges of her heels and brushed passed the bottoms of her toes, spinning and twirling all along their unpredictable pathways.

Had Gwen been offered a trillion dollars to replicate the sounds coming out of her and had a million years to try she would never have been successful. The cackling, screaming cacophony of shrill laughter that bellowed from within could only ever have come from the most unbearable of ticklish terrors. Her mind cracked in an instant, Gwendolyn Deveno the elegant and distinguished CEO was gone, all that remained was a blithering shell in her place. No coherent thoughts formed in her mind, even back in the darkest deepest recesses where ideas first spark to life. All that existed in the world was tickling and the undeniable, unavoidable desire to get away from it.

Beads of sweat drizzled across her pinkened ass cheeks as she thrashed, her elbows flapping wildly in endless effort to break free. As the feathers worked their dark magic Gwen would randomly screech so loud her high-pitch tested the integrity of every window in the conservatory. Her head whirled around, long hair flailing in the frenzied chaos, eyes wide in an expression of permanent shock. At the other end of the table where the severely pointed tips roamed, her upturned feet flapped helplessly, not a single thing to defend them against the innumerable teasing strokes.

From heel to toe Matias’ cruel feathers traced in wistful lines, each new direction no less random than that of a master artist’s brush. Every slide down her insteps or skate up the outer-sides of her arches was done with precise and devastating intent. The result of his skillful strokes was explosive hysteria, breathless laughter that forced it’s way out of Gwen like a tsunami through a straw. Not lacking for variety in his work, Matias darted one feather down between his cackling prisoner’s toes and she fell briefly silent save for the sounds of her berserk struggling. When Gwen curled her toes around the feather and it slipped free she roared openly with laughter once again, the massage table creaking and straining below her.

Apparently pleased with the relatively quiet results of his latest inspired move, Matias sent both feathers diving down between her toes. As the thousands of fronds sawed downward across blindingly sensitive skin, Gwen’s screams turned to straining squeaks, her mouth open wide as she continued to spasm. Trapped in silent agony, no amount of kicking or toe curling could get the feathers away. Only the occasional raspy gasp joined the sounds of her hips rapidly thudding the tabletop, and the wooden joints below rattling from constant movement. All the while Matias remained almost perfectly still, only his hands shifting quickly as he effortless drove Mrs. Deveno out of her mind.

“NYEEEHAHAHA!” Gwen bellowed loudly when the feathers dragged up the full length of both her soles. Using the sides of each quill Matias raked the countless tiny fronds up and down, sliding along under her toes then vibrating up along her high arches until stroking over each tender heel. It was a cursed miracle that her ravaged body still maintained enough energy to laugh, yet every time it felt like she would pass out Gwen’s lungs would force back great gaping gasps and send her wailing anew.

Sweat drained off her as the feathery nightmare wore on, thick droplets winding off her back and down the sides of her huge, squishing bosoms. Hot drops slid along Gwen’s voluptuous creases, dripping onto the tabletop as she rolled in the slippery mess. Her curvaceous butt shined like two well-polished orbs, bouncing furiously as her hips bucked and jerked side to side. Both thighs ached though she paid them no mind, her leg muscles working overtime as they kicked perpetually against the cushiony surface. At the bottom of the table was the cause of all Gwen’s mighty struggling, the two evil looking feathers which were now alternating between fine-tipped flickering and brushing roughly across her wrinkling arches.

Blasting down through every level of hell at terminal velocity and finding no bottom, Gwen felt she couldn’t possibly suffer more. Right around the time the last fractured shards of her mind were about to turn to dust, Matias flicked his wrists and sent his quills swaying harmlessly down toward the ground. In an instant of time so brief she didn’t even register it, the feeling of feathers on her hyperticklish feet was replaced with ten devilish fingertips. Spreading her slender toes wide, Gwen arched her back hard and let out a banshee’s cry, the deft teasing across her bare soles sending a new torrent of tears streaming down her deeply reddened cheeks.

Lightly scratching around her distressingly soft heels, Matias circled his fingers down her silky arches with all the grace of a highly trained ballet dancer. Once upon the quite pronounced balls of Gwen’s flailing feet he turned to quick tapping, playing her like a bawling piano with such nimble ability it would have put Beethoven to shame. From there it was a series of gentle pinches up the outer sides of each foot, the symphony far from finished when his digits went on to spider around the tops of her feet. As her laughter began to dip into brief bouts of harrowing silence, Matias used one hand to pull back the toes of her right foot and stretch the sole taut. Unable to move her foot even a fraction of an inch, Gwen’s volume returned full force when the masseur used his free hand to wiggle five fingertips all over her forcibly frozen foot. Not to leave a single note left unplayed, her left foot received the same sadistic treatment some while later.

Throughout the long, long remainder of her ordeal Gwen continued to slip into silent laughter and every time she did Matias had some savagely atrocious technique for making her scream again. He dug his fingertips under her toes and wiggled them there for what felt like forever. Untiring digits wiggled between each of her toes, spreading them by force whenever she’d strain her feet into desperate little fists, which was every time. Short though his nails were Matias put them to calamitous use, raking down her arches and slowly up again, the screeching laughter making Gwen’s voice crack. At some point he might have bought the feathers back, swirling one around her left foot while the right sole got tickled by his fingers, but eventually she just couldn’t tell. The stretches of soundless, tortured laughter grew longer and her crazed thrashing slowed though her feet continued to struggle with no less vigor. By the time it was over she was a mumbling, quivering puddle of her former self.

“Mrs. Deveno?” Matias’ voice sounded a mile away.

Gwen felt fingers threading through the sweat-stuck hair around the back of her head. A dream maybe, whether she was conscious or asleep was uncertain. Somewhere between the two states, it felt like. The fingers tightened their grip and though it didn’t hurt she let out a barely audible gasp when her head was lifted backward, pulling her from the headrest. Opening her eyes halfway, Gwen’s mouth hung open as she looked around, searching for the unknown person holding her up. She had no energy to hold herself up, nor do much of anything else. Matias’ face appeared right beside her.

“The Lottlinn deal, Mrs. Deveno.” He spoke soft and smooth. “When you’ve recovered. Taken a shower, got some sleep. Tomorrow morning, start of business.”

“…h-harry…?” She muttered shakily, a small string of drool dangling from her plump bottom lip.

“Your business partner, yes.” Matias moved closer, putting his lips just close enough to Gwen’s ear that when he spoke the hot breath tickled her. “He would like very much for you to go ahead with the purchase.”

“Ee…eehee…” Gwen flinched but he held her firmly in place, lips brushing the outer edges of her ear.

“You’re going to be a good girl, Gwendolyn.” He nibbled gently at her earlobe and she shuddered. “You’re going to do as your told. I got to you once, I can get to you again. Your security team, your bodyguards, they mean nothing to men like me. Do we understand each other?”

“Y-yehehes…”

Matias lowered her slowly back into the headrest and within seconds she drifted off into a twitching, giggly sleep. When Gwen woke hours later and mustered up enough energy to peel herself off the tabletop the ropes were gone. The satchel too, and Matias along with them. Her wrists and ankles were red with rings and her sides ached, muscles in her legs, arms and stomach all feeling like she’d run ten marathons. Sitting nude on the edge of her massage table, the discarded towel still in a heap on the floor, Gwen pushed a strand of hair out of her face and turned slowly to look out at her garden. My god, she thought working the dull ache in her jaw, it really is time for a vacation.

Chapter Eight: The Secrets of Cindy Reid

Like some villain from a cheap TV show, Madam Ui’s base of operations turned out to be an abandoned warehouse, of all things. Of course it wasn’t really a base and there were no operations as such, but Emma did like to muse about how she might one day write it all down. Given her part in it, she supposed, if the aspiring author were to eventually put every detail in print she would have to do it from a non-extradition country. There was no way she wasn’t complicit now, from a little light trespassing to full blown kidnapping, Emma’s crimes had graduated to the federal level. Then there was the torture, though to her way of thinking it wasn’t the first time she’d been complicit in that.

In a small, dusty office attached to the main workshop Emma sat fidgeting in a squeaky old chair. She kept her back to the hazy window and the door closed, purposely avoiding Cindy’s interrogation as much as she could. If she’d been able to go for a walk or at least sit outside she would have, but there was no way Madam Ui would allow it, not after the betrayal. Emma couldn’t be trusted anymore and with Luli, Wei and Yumao all poised to follow Ui’s every demand there was no sense trying to run. Running would mean being caught and being caught would mean ending up in much the same position as poor Cindy now found herself. Things going the way they were, Emma knew even without running she may still have to face the madam’s wrath.

Muffled only by the grimy old office window, the sound of Cindy’s distressed laughter made it difficult not to think about being punished by Madam Ui. Emma wondered if they’d tie her down, if Luli and Wei might do the work or if Ui herself would lead the retribution when it came time. To her eternal shame the thoughts of being trussed up and tormented were making Emma squirm awkwardly in her chair, Cindy’s cries doing nothing to calm the redhead’s libido. Fidgeting to try and distract herself, she stared at a pile of discarded papers strewn across the desktop, desperate to think of something, anything besides long nails stroking across her vulnerable, freckled flesh.

“Unenthused though I am to consider it-“ Madam Ui swung open the office door and the sound of Cindy’s distraught squeals skyrocketed in clarity. “-it might just be possible I’ve lost a step or two over the years.” She shut the door behind her and the tortured laughs were suppressed again.

“Not um…not getting anywhere?” Emma shook her head and blinked, shooing away sordid thoughts and hoping her nipples weren’t poking too obviously through her shirt.

“She is a rock.” Ui leaned against the edge of the desk and frowned thoughtfully out the window. “There was a time I’d have broken a girl like her in minutes.”

“But there’s four of you out there?”

“True. My girls weren’t trained like I was though, I’ve kept them free of that world.” Ui paused to see Emma had one eyebrow raised. “…mostly.”

“I don’t think it matters. Cindy’s obviously…susceptible. I know I’d talk if I had four people doing…that…to me whether they were good at it or not.”

“Just say the word and we can make it happen.” Ui smirked. “Tickle, tickle, tickle! It’s just a word.”

Emma blushed and averted the older woman’s gaze. “My point is Cindy just spent the night with Harry Deveno….tickling her…” She forced herself to say it and felt her cheeks grow warm. “And now she’s here being put through it all over again, maybe even worse, and she still won’t talk?”

“If you’re suggesting she’s enjoying herself-“

“No. No I think we can all agree Cindy isn’t a fan of what you’re doing to her.”

Ui raised both eyebrows expectantly. “What then? Iron will?”

“The other day you told me about Aleena and her girlfriend-“

“Hania.”

“Hania, yes.” Emma plucked up the courage to look back at Madam Ui. “You said you tortured Hania and no matter what you did she wouldn’t give up the name of the man who was helping her. As much as she hated it, as much as she suffered she still wouldn’t tell you what you wanted to know.”

“You think Ms. Reid is protecting someone?”

“She has to be, doesn’t she? ‘If you can’t attack the body, attack the heart’, that’s what you said.”

Ui sighed. “I fail to see how that helps us. With Hania they were able to track down Aleena. Even if Cindy has someone we can exploit it could take days to get them here.”

“Can I talk to her?” Emma pushed herself up from the rickety chair. “Maybe I can reason with her, explain what it is we’re trying to do. If she’s a victim of Mr. Lucas’ like I think she is, she’ll want to see him taken down too, right?”

“Be my guest.” Ui gestured to the door and Emma took the few steps passed to grab the handle.

“Eii!” She jumped, feeling a quick pinch squeeze at both her sides. Spinning around, Ui stood with a wry smile across her lips.

“Couldn’t resist.”

They had Cindy kneeling on a metallic workbench, the clutter of tools and dust bunnies all swept onto the floor. Her ankles were strapped across the backs, her bare feet upturned. From the rafters overhead hung a power cord, they’d tied another leather strap around it and cinched the strap tight around Cindy’s wrists. Her arms were stretched high above making her body trapped in a helpless L-shape. The last Emma had seen of the kidnapped girl she’d been fully clothed, something Madam Ui and her girls had made short work of throughout the interrogation. Now all she wore were a pair of neon pink panties and a frilly bra, her large milky breasts swelling over the flowery cups.

Cindy was thrashing madly, her hair whipping about as she howled. Behind her Luli and Wei had a foot each, the two girls running their twenty combined fingers relentlessly over her exposed soles. Yumao stood at the front, digging with claw shaped hands into Cindy’s sides. Emma stopped as she exited the office, caught off guard by the sight and the dramatic spike in her heinous arousal that it caused. Without thinking she bit her bottom lip, glaring at the scantily clad blonde with a confused cocktail of conflicting feelings. Guilt and pity, empathy and regret. Had those been the only feelings Emma had she may have been able to live with herself but there were others in the mix, curiosity and desire. She wondered what it would be like to have Cindy at her own fingertips, feeling the muscles tighten and the vibrations of laughter through her skin.

“Coming?” Ui strode by, then said something in Mandarin to her girls.

Snapping herself out of it and cursing Jai Lin’s name for making her this way, Emma followed on. Yumao, Luli and Wei all gave a friendly smile as they walked by in the opposite direction. Cindy hung limp, her hefty cleavage raising and falling with heavy breaths, long hair dangling around her reddened face. On closer inspection there was a light sheen of sweat coating the prisoner’s skin, but that wasn’t all. Coming up to stand by Ui it was hard to look anywhere else, especially upon noticing Cindy’s erect nipples prodding behind her bra. Struck by disbelief, Emma gazed wantonly down over her heaving midriff, eyes casting all the way to a distinctive damp patch across the front of her g-string panties. Whatever dark magic Jai Lin damned her victims with it seemed Cindy hadn’t escaped unscathed either.

“Cindy?” Emma didn’t have to try hard to sound sympathetic, she really did wish none of this cruelty was necessary. “Cindy it’s me, Emma.”

“You have five minutes.” Ui pivoted about on one heel and wandered off in the same direction as the others.

“Did you hear that?” Emma moved closer and craned her neck to try and catch Cindy’s eye. “Five minutes, then they’re coming back. I don’t want them to do that, I really don’t.”

“Let me…let me go.” She murmured between gasps.

Emma shook her head. “I can’t do that, I wish I could but I can’t. We need to know why you’re here, Cindy. We need to know what you were doing in Deveno’s building.”

“I told them.” Looking up just enough to make eye contact, she spoke breathily. “I work for him, that’s all.”

“That’s not all…”

“It is!”

“It can’t be. Mr. Lucas, Jai Lin, I know they got to you. You being here, working for that man of all people, it’s not a coincidence.”

“You’re here too!”

“I’m here to stop them, Cindy. Me, Ui and the others, we’re trying to bring it all down. To stop Jai Lin, to make sure no one has to go through the things we’ve been through ever again.”

Cindy scoffed. “You can’t stop them. They can’t be stopped.”

“Only because no one’s ever tried. But listen to me, I escaped. I got away because someone very close to them let me go. The amount of people who want to stop them is growing but we can’t do it without your help.”

“I’ll never tell you anything.”

“They have someone you love, don’t they?” Emma noticed Cindy’s eyes narrow significantly. “A friend or…your sister, maybe?”

“I don’t have a sister.”

“Whoever. They took my friends, you know that?” She nodded, eyebrows raised. “They took them but I’m still fighting. I’m fighting for them, to save them, to get back at Jai Lin and Mr. Lucas and all their monsters for everything they’ve done! They can’t get to you anymore, Cindy, but you can sure as hell get to them.”

Silence fell. Emma had raised her voice a little more than she’d intended but the passion of her cause got the better of her. Cindy frowned and her eyes darted about as if lost in thought. The little speech must have had some effect, though which way she might land on the decision was anyone’s guess.

“My mom…” She whimpered after forty seconds or so. “They got her…years ago.”

“They have your mom? In their mansion?”

“No, no.” Cindy’s lip quivered as she struggled to find the bravery for what needed to be said.

“It’s okay, here-“ Emma started shambling up on to the workbench. She reached up and began fiddling with the strap bound around the girl’s wrists.

“We were still in high school.” She continued while her hands were freed. “I wasn’t doing well and Mr. Lucas he…” Cindy grit her teeth. “He encouraged me.”

As Emma helped pull the strap loose she felt a knot in her stomach. There was no need to ask for further elaboration, she could imagine quite well what kind of terrible encouragement Mr. Lucas dished out. While Cindy sat back on her calves, Emma slid off the bench and turned back to undo the binding around her legs.

“I improved, I really did, because I was terrified. No more parties, no more boys.” She rubbed at her wrists as she continued her tale of woe. “When it came time to pick a college he came to me again. Told me where to go, what to study. My mom she…she wasn’t really involved. Kind of just did her own thing. I guess Mr. Lucas didn’t like that so he encouraged her too.”

“They took your mom…did they let her go?”

“After, yeah. They did whatever they did to her and I didn’t know at first why she’d changed so suddenly. One day she was day drinking and-ah-“ Cindy sighed with relief as her legs came free and she turned to sit on the edge of the bench. “-and fucking the pool boy. Next day, out of nowhere, she’s Mom of The Year. I didn’t know what they’d done at the time, but then I graduated college and you-know-who shows up again. He tells me I’m going to work for Harry Deveno. He shows me a video…a video of-“

“It’s okay.” Emma felt the urge to put a comforting hand on Cindy’s knee but stopped herself. After all the unwanted hands the poor girl already had roaming over her body the last twenty-four hours it didn’t seem likely she’d want another one.

“They tortured her. Him and some girls, I don’t know. They told me my mom’s at home, safe and sound, but that could change again. If I didn’t get in with Deveno, and if I didn’t report back to them everything he was up to, they’d go after her a second time.”

“You were spying for them?”

“I guess so.” Cindy gave a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t really understand any of it. They made sure I got the job somehow, scared off the other candidates I guess, then it was up to me to get close to him. I thought it would take time but then yesterday…”

“I understand.” Emma stopped her there, it would only be cruel to make her relive it. Still, some part of her, some sick little perverted part of her wanted to hear the story.

“Deveno and that fucking assistant of his!” She hissed and slammed the bottom of her fist onto the workbench.

Madam Ui emerged from the office. “Assistant?”

“Stupid bitch.” Cindy turned to the older woman. “She just stood there and watched, both times! She could have done something, gone for help, called the cops, but all she did was stare while they tickled me to death!”

Emma felt the accusation in her gut, every word stabbing like it was aimed directly at her. Wendy Starr, the girl at Mr. Lucas’ house, Cindy herself, all victims she could have helped but instead sat by and did nothing. Or worse, sat by and got disgracefully turned on by the plight.

“This assistant…” Ui spoke with some menace in her voice as she glided up to the table. “What’s her name?”

Continued...
 
Chapter Nine: The Hardest Day​

Of all the days in Harry Deveno’s employ, this had surely been the easiest. Per usual Hannah had arrived to his estate bright and early, watched him workout and field a number of phone calls. From there they were driven to the office and the billionaire’s mood seemed about as irritable as any other day. Once they reached the top floor she’d started to wonder what today’s excuse for tickling her would be, and how best to avoid it. As fortune would have it one single e-mail changed Mr. Deveno’s mood and her chances of suffering at his hands.

Elated, Harry had leapt up from his desk, a look of joy across his face so bright it was strange to see. For such a normally stoic man it was odd to see him look especially cheerful, yet there was no great mystery to his mood; Gwendolyn Deveno had agreed to the Lottlinn deal. Meetings were cancelled, breakfast was planned and they even took the helicopter to the restaurant. After leaving a huge tip for the wait staff they took off again, Hannah quite content to be along for the ride for once. There was still work to do, plenty in fact, but in his uncharacteristic fit of charity Mr. Deveno told everyone it could wait until tomorrow. Go home, he’d said while clapping his hands together in a declaration of good will, today is a day to celebrate.

All in all Hannah was back home in less than six hours after getting to work. With the afternoon clear she honestly didn’t quite know what to do with herself. Ideas were shortcoming as she climbed the stoop of the artsy brownstone house that her employer paid for. A full Thursday afternoon free, no pressure of having to navigate Harry Deveno’s moods or dodge his wandering hands. Even better, much less chance of inadvertently being made part in some twisted torment of another employee. Just as she reached into her bag to find her keys a woman’s voice called from the bottom of the steps.

“Excuse me?”

Hannah turned from her door, keys jangling in hand and looked down to see a somewhat peculiar pairing of women. The girl who spoke was short, early twenties maybe. A curvy little thing with freckles across her nose and rather ample cleavage. She had a brilliant head of curly, fiery red hair and a polite unassuming way about her, dressed in runners, tight jeans and a yellow t-shirt. The other woman was something else altogether, not much taller but probably twice the other one’s age. She had a stern look across her face and was clad in all black, severely heeled boots, tight leggings and a long sleeved top that accentuated her voluptuous figure.

“Can I help you?” Hannah frowned curiously.

“I hope so! I’m Emma Clark, I’m a reporter for The Deep Look online newsp-“ The redhead began.

“Ah, I’ll stop you right there. If you want to ask questions you’ll need to make an appointment like everyone else.”

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry-“ The one called Emma came up the first step, one hand out in a stop-gesture. “We don’t mean to ambush you, it’s just we’re due on a plane back to New York in like, what?” She turned to her friend.

“An hour.” Said the nameless, sour-faced one.

“An hour! And our editor just called us and asked us to do up a whole character piece on Harry Deveno Junior while we’re here. He’s your boss, isn’t he?”

“He might be.” Hannah turned away to unlock the door, then looked back while still holding the key. “But like I said, I can’t just go giving unplanned, unsanctioned interviews or whatever it is you’re after. There are proper channels to go through for this sort of thing.”

“We know, we know, and I wouldn’t ask-“ Emma came up another step. “-but we’re desperate here, really, our editor’s just breathing down our necks about this.”

Hannah tapped her foot for a moment. The younger one looked up at her and it was hard not to feel sympathetic. She was like a puppy, all big eyes and innocence. Her partner had more of a jungle cat-like quality about her, which was probably why the redhead was doing all the talking. Heck, Hannah pursed her lips as she thought, it wasn’t like she was doing anything else and if their plane was in an hour they wouldn’t be sticking around long. “Alright.“ She said. “Off the record though. I don’t want my name in print.”

“Anything you like.” Emma nodded eagerly and hurried up the steps. “Hopefully this won’t take too long…”

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Following Deveno’s busty assistant into her home, Emma turned back to make sure Madam Ui was close behind. She was there alright, not two steps away on the stoop, her footsteps unnervingly silent. More nerve-wracking still was the small coil of thin white rope Ui was slipping out of her pants pocket. As if play-acting like a big time serious journalist hadn’t been anxiety-inducing enough already.

“What are you doing?!” Emma whispered hastily.

“Being prepared.” She brushed by, snapping one end of the rope tight between her hands.

“Wait!” Over Ui’s shoulder the assistant, Hannah, was occupied slipping out of her sensible office shoes. There was hardly time to act but Emma grabbed her accomplice’s elbow anyway. Ui glared back at her with a look that was half disbelief and half asking if perhaps putting hands on her without asking was worth the potential consequences. “Sorry, I just- we might not even need to do that.”

Hannah stood bare foot on the hardwood floor and turned back toward the whispering women in her doorway. “Everything okay?”

“Absolutely.” Ui did her best impression of a friendly smile as she nimbly slid the rope back into her pocket.

“Great.” Said the poor, unsuspecting girl. “Just take your shoes off and come on through, I’ll get us some water.”

Emma closed the door behind them while Ui leaned over to unzip her boots. Instead of bending over to remove her own shoes she stared dumbly down at the older woman’s thin black socks. Seeing Hannah in bare feet hadn’t helped as far as distractions went either, nor had the implication of Ui’s rope. This was serious business, there was no room for mistakes, yet so far Emma had gone from a fairly decent start to feeling like a guilty pervert less than a minute later. Head in the game Clark, she thought to herself and tried to shake off lewd thoughts of ropes and unprotected feet. Reaching down to her own shoes she recalled what Madam Ui had said in the van on the way over about the possibility of Hannah being ticklish; Of course she is, horribly so, Harry Deveno wouldn’t have it any other way.

By the time Emma caught up, Ui had already made herself at home of the sofa. It was a tidy place, a rug and coffee table, a couple of recliners. There was an old brick fireplace with nothing on the mantle. No decorations to speak of at all really, Emma noted as she took a seat in the recliner to left of the couch. Even the attached kitchen didn’t look particularly personalized, in fact the whole place looked not unlike a mock show-home one might see in a major department store.

Hannah plodded around from the kitchen with three glasses and Emma couldn’t resist the temptation to glance downward. Her feet pressed into the fluffy rug and a couple of the soft white fronds snuck up between her toes. “Ice okay?” She placed the glasses down on the coffee table and as she bent forward Emma got a full view of the hefty cleavage down her blouse. None of this was right, it was the kind of thinking meant for the people they were trying to stop.

“So, uh-” Emma tried to ignore thoughts of the buxom assistant giggling, trapped by Ui’s rope. Half stripped and pleading, the madam’s long nails crawling around her soles. Images of Cindy Reid bound in that workshop the day before teased at the edges of Emma’s mind, only fended off by Madam Ui cutting to the chase.

“How long have you been helping Harry Deveno torture members of his staff?”

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Hannah’s eyes went wide, she couldn’t help herself. She stared at the older of the two women for a second, two seconds, more. There had to be a joke in there, some prank or hint that it wasn’t a serious question. Nothing changed, that stony expression remained, lips slightly pursed and one eyebrow raised. Hannah looked to the other one, Emma, only to find she looked almost as surprised, mouth slightly open and eyes fixed on her companion.

“I uh…” She looked back to find the dark haired woman still looking as icy as a few seconds before.

“Tuesday night? The paralegal?”

Hannah’s heart was about to beat clean out of her chest. “I’m…not sure…” Part of her wanted to say something, it wasn’t as though she had any love for the man in question. Seeing Harry Deveno publicly embarrassed would be undeniably satisfying, but it wouldn’t be enough. He’d deny it, keep doing what he was doing, and maybe even take out his frustrations on his personal assistant. Couldn’t have that.

“Are you saying you weren’t there?” The icy woman’s questions were coming thick and fast in a most disarming fashion, she would have made a heck of an interrogator. “Harry Deveno’s office, Cindy Reid? A man named Izan? What do you know about him? How many other girls have you helped your boss torture?”

“None! I mean, I haven’t!” Hannah tripped over herself trying to regain some semblance of composure. She turned to the softer of her two guests. “I thought you weren’t going to ambush me, what happened to that?”

Emma took on a serious tone, though hardly intimidating. “Ui might skip the tactful lead up to the hardballs-“ She side-eyed her partner. “-but it is a fair question. It’s really very important that we understand your level of involvement with Mr. Deveno’s…out of work activities.”

“She’s not going to tell us.” The one called Ui sneered.

“You said this was a character piece.” Hannah stood up. “I thought you meant some fluff-profile, not an assassination. If you want to know what Mr. Deveno does outside of the office you’ll have to ask him. Now I think you should both leave, you don’t want to miss that plane.”

“I told you.” Ui leaned slightly to one side and reached into her pocket.

Emma slid forward until she was perched on the edge of the recliner, reached out and grabbed her partner’s wrist. “Look, this is just…we don’t need to-“

“Help me with her!” The older one slipped her hand free and stood up in one quick, rather alarming motion.

As Ui darted toward her Hannah threw her hands up defensively, took a clumsy step in retreat and tripped backward into her chair. Before she could sit forward and recover herself there was a blur of black-clad limbs and in a flash the startling poke of fingers digging into her sides. “Eiieeeha!” Hannah squealed and grabbed at the crazed woman’s wrists. She tried to kick upward but there was already weight sitting squarely on her knees, and hands clawing into the thin cotton of her blouse. “Eehahaha! Get off me! Noho! Stohaop it!”

“Get the rope!” Ui barked back over her shoulder.

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Emma was mesmerized. All she could see across the coffee table was Ui’s back, her arms working hurriedly. Just under the older woman’s well-toned butt was Hannah’s skirt, it had ridden up just enough to catch flashes of a pair of white cotton panties between her thick thighs. Her bare legs were kicking at the knee, feet flailing to the tune of sporadic giggles and high-pitched protest. Ui might have been a bit out of practice but she seemed to be fairing well enough keeping the younger woman in place. Of course if Hannah were anything like her, Emma thought, all her defenses fell apart the second she was tickled.

“Emma!” Ui’s voice snapped like a whip. “The rope!”

“Oh!” She leapt up, blinking like she’d just woken up and started shuffling as quickly as she could around the coffee table. What exactly Emma was planning to do she had no idea. Whatever it was, between Ui’s demands and her own unruly libido it was probably something she’d feel awful about later.

No doubt panicked from hearing something about rope twice, Hannah found enough willpower to turn her pitiful defense into a shockingly effective offense. “Eeeheehee! Off me! You crazy cow!” She growled and squeezed furiously at Ui’s sides.

“Yeeeiihahaha!” Ui sprang up, slapping her hands down as she bounced back off the chair and bumped right into Emma.

“Oof!” Emma stumbled back, narrowly avoiding having her nose hit. Recovering quick, she looked passed Ui to see Hannah was up and backing toward the kitchen.

“Get out!” She pointed down the hall toward the front door. “Get the hell out or I’ll-“

Evidently undeterred, Ui started pacing quickly toward Hannah with her hands clawing in the air. “Cootchy cootchy coo!” She purred through a Cheshire Cat’s grin and it sent Emma’s bratty libido whirling.

“Back off!” Hannah’s voice wavered like she was trying to sound commanding but the worry outweighed it. Walking backward slowly, she held both open palms up. “I’m serious! You touch me again you’ll be in a world of trouble! You have no idea!”

“Emma…” Ui continued stalking forward, stepping slowly off to the right as she advanced on her prey. “I can’t take her alone…”

“We-we can’t.” Good sense finally finding her, Emma followed hesitantly. “We were just supposed to talk to her!”

“We do it my way or she’ll tell Harry, then what do you think happ-” Before she could finish Hannah made a break for it, darting away from the kitchen and toward an open door. “Damn it!”

“Wait!” Emma reached out but Ui was gone almost as fast as the fleeing assistant.

“Get out of my house!” Hannah’s voice echoed back through the rooms as her pursuers tore after her.

Through a small laundry room and around a corner, the three women stampeded down another narrow hallway. From the back of the pack Emma watched as Hannah took hold of the end of a banister and used it to spin herself around toward a flight of stairs. As her footsteps pounded up the stairs and passed Emma’s head, Ui pulled the same move and bounded up after her. By the time Emma spun back and faced up the stairs Hannah had already dashed around a corner at the top, Ui hot on her heels as she did the same. Halfway up the stairs and one of them made a loud squeal, though it was difficult to tell who it came from.

Dashing around the corner at the top of the stairs, Emma followed the sound of laughter and gasping demands. With a sharp pivot she darted into the doorframe of the master bedroom, equal parts distressed and titillated to find that Ui had the upper hand. Hannah was on her knees, bare feet kicking madly in the short distance between the carpet and her curvaceous behind. Curled over her own lap, an open mouth grin across her face, the flustered P.A slapped at Ui’s hands as they goosed her sides. Ui leaned over the buxom girl expressionless, easily pinching and clawing at her ribs and stomach.

Somewhat slack-jawed, Emma stood as her conflicting feelings battled it out across her mind and body. She hated the thought of becoming like them, like Jai Lin and her gang of sadists, hated the idea she’d been twisted into something perverse by that witch. All that hate yet still her excitement grew with every involuntary noise out of Hannah’s plump lips, every jerking motion and kick for freedom. Emma wished the struggling blonde would find her strength, jump up and escape, put an end to this mad situation. It was a terrible thing, one the former journalist knew well, to be unable to get up, to get away while someone toyed with you so freely. So cruelly.

“Emma!” Ui barked.

Hannah was scrambling across her bedroom floor, giggling madly on all fours as Ui gave chase. “Aha! Aheehee! You’re crazy!” She rounded the foot of the bed and scurried toward the bedside table, the older woman’s fingers pinching playfully at her bouncing butt.

A decision had to be made because indecisiveness was getting them nowhere. Ui was right, they had come too far. If they stopped now, if they left, Harry Deveno would find out and Emma had no intention of ending up like poor Cindy Reid. Even if she wanted to leave Ui would be near impossible to stop. As she stepped into the room and closed the door behind her, Emma could only hope that it was good reason and logic dictating her next move and not her raging sense of arousal.

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In the bedside table was where Hannah kept her telescopic baton. One good blow to the older woman’s knees would soon stop this lunacy. As she lunged for the top drawer, Ui’s nails skittered over her hips and the outnumbered P.A had to use every ounce of concentration not to reach back and fend her off. With one arm propping her up she grabbed the small drawer handle with her free hand and gave a valiant tug. Fighting back laughter Hannah arched her back as fingers dug between her lower ribs, the drawer full of hope sliding open. Just as the gap became wide enough to fit her hand in the bewildered young woman felt a pair of hands grip around her right ankle.

“Ah!” Hannah squawked as she was yanked backward, the drawer handle slipping free of her grasp. Another pair of hands snatched up her left leg and with a clumsy thump she fell flat on her stomach. Kicking madly, Hannah rolled herself between the bedside and wall, alarmed to see the redhead had joined the fray. “Get off me!” To her surprise and immediate regret the two women did just that. Dropping her ankles, Ui and Emma both pounced down on top of her, their twenty collective fingers running wild across her convulsing tummy.

With Ui on her right beside the bed and Emma pressed against the wall to the left, Hannah burst into helpless laughter. Squished between them in the narrow gap as they kneeled either side of her, the spasming blonde couldn’t hope to grab at more than two of the four attacking hands at a time. Her bare legs kicked and her butt bounced, head shaking as her long hair flew about, all of it as uncoordinated and useless as her pitifully girlish squeals. Panic set in thick and fast, the unique kind of frenzied fear that only came with being tickled against one’s will.

“Eeihaha! Get-stop-dohohon’t! Aheehaha!” Hannah slapped and rolled in the little space she was allowed, her large bosoms bouncing with her chaotic movements.

“Not so fun when you’re on the receiving end, is it?” Ui was kneading either side of the trapped girl’s tummy. Hannah couldn’t have made much sense of the question if she’d been able to fully focus on it, as it was she barely heard a word over her own explosive giggling. “Or maybe you do enjoy it, hmm? Maybe we’re doing you a big favor! What do you think Emma?”

“I…” The redhead didn’t seem quite so sure of herself. Though her small hands explored Hannah’s heaving ribs and the effect was quite maddening, there was a hesitance to her. She didn’t move as fast or as vigorously as the older woman, didn’t poke or squeeze as deeply. A little frown sat upon her face, her eyes wide and she bit one side of her bottom lip in a nervous fashion.

“How long have you been working for Deveno?” Ui drilled her thumbs into the tender spots just inside Hannah’s hipbones. With a strained wheeze the P.A sprung halfway off the floor, clutched bunglingly below her beltline and flopped backward less than a second later.

“Aheeahahaha! I don’t ahaha!” She tried to speak, tried to think straight, the forty wiggling fingers making both next to impossible.

“How much do you know about Cindy Reid?” The older woman’s questions snapped one after the other. “What did she tell you when you interrogated her?”

If Hannah had any answers there was no time to offer them up, especially not through her humiliating storm of laughter. Feeling her cheeks turn hot she knew her face had turned rosy pink, though one quick glance at Emma proved she still wasn’t blushing as much as the younger of her attackers. After nearly a full minute of turbulent struggling under the duo’s hands Hannah had enough foresight to see her suffering wasn’t about to end in the next moment or two. Mustering up what power she could, the determined girl threw one arm back in a desperate effort to grab her drawer once again. Courageous though the attempt was, Hannah’s instincts got the better of her when one of Ui’s devilish fingers dug directly into her sternum. Snapping her arm back down to protect herself there seemed to be no way out of this abhorrent debacle.

“Stop! Ahahaha! I cahaha!”

“Tell us everything!”

“I can’t breathe! Aheeheiihee!”

“Why did your boss torture Cindy Reid?!”

“I dohahaha! Idon’tknowaheehee!” Hannah could guess, though the truth was she really didn’t know the exact reasons behind Harry Junior’s depravity. “He’s rich! Ehahaha! Stop! He-he does whateverahaha!”

“Not good enough!” Ui slid her hands down the length of Hannah’s tummy and started hurriedly untucking her blouse.

“Nohohoho!” She fought, fumbling to keep her shirt behind her skirt. It was no use, the petit redhead was goosing Hannah’s sides at the same time and beating back the two-pronged attack was a hopeless cause. “Nodon’tdon’t! Eeehehahaha!”

Ui’s ten fingers skittered up under the wrinkled blouse. With a loud, high pitch gasp Hannah clawed at her terribly tender midriff, the feeling of the older woman’s nails directly on her skin making her buck wildly. As she pushed and grabbed and laughed demands for an end to it, there wasn’t much to be done about the other pair of curious hands crawling across her body. Through the thin cotton Emma’s fingertips stroked across Hannah’s ribs and poked gingerly into the painfully sensitive spots between each one. With her mouth hanging open slightly the redhead looked surprised at the effect her awkward fondling was having. In fact, had Hannah been able to examine the freckle-faced girl’s expression a little more intently she might have noticed that Emma almost looked afraid.

Without much competition Hannah knew she was veering into what was very soon to be the worst tickling of her life. Even in their cruelest moments both Harry Deveno and her ex-boyfriend had only ever been a one man show. Now, over two minutes into being relentlessly teased by two people at once, Hannah’s sense of helplessness and vulnerability was elevated more than ever before. Without drastic action there was no telling what state she might find herself in should another minute pass. With the baton out of reach there was a dire need to get creative. Fighting with one hand as she rolled and wriggled, the voluptuous P.A used her free hand to claw at the floor, under the bed, at the box spring, at anything that could be grabbed and swung. In the end all Hannah managed to do was grab a fistful of her duvet cover, and with a couple of cackling grunts yanked the entire blanket off the sheet and down on top of herself.

What exactly the plan was would forever remain a mystery, nonetheless the sudden arrival of a thick duvet cover into the tiny space between the bed and the wall created enough confusion for the tickling to stop. As Ui and Emma had to contend with the blanket, each busy trying to rid themselves of the obtrusive piece of bed-wear, Hannah took her chance and squirmed back toward her bedside table. Not wanting to risk getting caught again she opted for escape instead of the baton, clawing herself up onto the stripped bed sheet. Springing onto all fours she turned sharply and made a mad dash toward the foot of the mattress, her bedroom door and exit to salvation locked in sight.

“Ah-ah!” Ui darted into view, hands poised like claws as she stood between the door and the end of the bed.

Hannah froze and recoiled back an inch. She could try to for the window, two stories high or not it was the only option left. Before she could decide her next move there was a new feeling of added weight on the bed. Turning her head instantly the bare foot girl’s eyes shot wide at the sight of Emma pouncing down upon her. Hannah twisted her upperbody to mount a defense that came much too late as the tiny redhead’s ten pinching fingers found her sides and tummy. With a squeal the two young women rolled across the silky sheet, a mess of arms and legs and flailing hair.

“Nggheehehe!” Hannah struggled, landing on her back near the bedside. Emma was atop her, slightly lower with her face almost smooshed right into the blonde’s large bosoms. Shoving at the top of that head of curly hair, Hannah wriggled madly as five fingers dug into the soft flesh just above her bouncing hips on either side. Unable to push the little gremlin away or throw her off the best bet was to fight fire with fire.

“Ahahaha!” Emma jolted sharply when Hannah reached over the back of her shoulders and burrowed a few hooking fingers down in between her upper arms and soft ribcage.

With their kicking legs intertwined, Hannah’s bare heels slipping against the bed sheet, both women lay locked in a giggling mess of dueling tickles. Emma squirmed from side to side, her laughter mostly muffled as her face remained pressed into the P.A’s hefty chest. Were it only she and the redhead taking each other on Hannah would have felt pretty confident about coming out the victor, as it was the older woman’s presence was keenly felt. Why Ui had intervened yet was curious, though there was the worrying possibility she was simply enjoying the show.

“That’s enough.” Ui said after a few more seconds of poking, prodding battle. Leaning over the foot of the bed, she took hold of Hannah’s right wrist with both hands and began pulling her arm upward.

“No! Eheahaha! Nnnno!” Hannah strained to pull her arm back as it was pulled passed her face. Using her one free hand she grabbed at the older woman’s hands, trying furiously to pry the vice-like grip off her. Naturally the effort to free herself meant sacrificing the offense she had launched on Emma. No longer being tickled herself, the plucky journalist was able to double down on her attack, lobster clawing fiendishly at Hannah’s convulsing sides. “Eiiihaha! Letmegohohoho! Aeeiiehahaha!”

“We will-nff-just as soon…as…you-“ Turning her back to the bed, Ui coiled one arm around the blonde’s forearm and held the stretched limb out straight. “-talk!”

“I don’t know anything!”

“Now now…” There was feeling of something tightening around her wrist as Ui spoke. “Everyone knows something.”

Hannah was busy using her free hand to slap at Emma’s shoulder but the strange sensation around her wrist compelled her to look up. Throwing her head back she saw the tail end of a thin piece of white rope twirling about beside Ui’s tensed arm. The image of Cindy Reid bound nude on her boss’ office floor flashed through Hannah’s thoughts. She recalled the stark feeling of dread at the idea of being tied up, helpless and completely unable to fight back. There was no world in which the hyperticklish P.A could let that happen, and no secret she wouldn’t spill if it did.

Giving up on dueling with Emma, Hannah whipped her left arm up to try and grab at Ui, only to be stopped midflight. Looking down hurriedly she found the redhead was now sitting upright, her tiny hands clutched around Hannah’s wrist. Straddling one thick thigh, Emma easily pinned the struggling girl’s hand down beside her head. Leaning over her and extending one arm straight she could use her combined weight and superior position to keep Hannah’s wrist pinned with just one hand.

“I-I swear!” The blushing girl shifted her wide hips and did her best to not let the fear show in her voice. “You two have no idea the kind of trouble you’re getting in! I’m serious, if you-AIIE! EIIHEE!”

Squealing laughter betrayed the seriousness of Hannah’s threat when Emma used her free hand to dance five fingertips across her outstretched underarm. Barely covered by the short sleeve of the blouse it was no trouble at all for the redhead to freely spider all over. In erratic motion Emma’s dainty digits slid around every inch of Hannah’s taut hollow, sneaking down to her upper ribs and even grazing against the side of her jiggling breast. It was a hellish preview of what being utterly defenseless might be like and the effect was far more terrifying than she had imagined. More horrendous still was Ui taking advantage of the moment as she maneuvered Hannah’s right hand to meet with her left.

“NO! NOHO!” Hannah balked as she glanced up to see the older woman weaving the length of rope around both wrists. Prior to that moment the curvy P.A thought she had a pretty good sense of what it felt like to be vulnerable. As the rope tightened, and Emma’s fingers pinched along her lower ribs, Hannah felt all those times rolling around on Harry Deveno’s office floor were almost the definition of freedom. “Stop this! Ahaeheahaha!” Stop it!” She screamed as the bonds snagged firm, locking her wrists together and leaving about of foot of slack dangling in between.

“Get her shirt!” Ui barked and took two handfuls of the blonde’s top around the neckline. “Enough toying with her!”

Throwing her bonded hands down in front of herself Hannah tried to bat the sudden onslaught of hands off her. In a whirlwind of grabby, fondling fingers both Ui and Emma tore and tugged at the flimsy blouse, buttons popping as the two sides were yanked apart. Between all four hands pawing at her there wasn’t a half second that went by without at least one set of fingers tickling somewhere, a fit of squeaking giggles pouring out of her as she writhed. Feeling the open air against her skin as she was forcefully exposed that dreaded sense of ever deepening helplessness sent her heart racing.

A loud ripping sound saw Hannah’s right shoulder lose it’s sleeve, immediately followed by the last few buttons popping apart. As her blouse fell open the P.A’s overstuffed white bra bounced into view, the fleshy tops and sides of her large bosoms ballooning around the edges of each bulbous cup. With only one small sleeve remaining the two harpies split their efforts, Ui clawing at the thin piece of material while Emma’s ten fingers went to work on Hannah’s bare tummy. Bursting aloud with rapid giggling, her tied hands could hardly even catch one of the redhead’s offending assaults at a time. Even when she did manage to get a grip it would just as quickly slip away, her quivering tummy virtually defenseless against the prodding digits.

“Tickle her silly!” Ui gave another stern demand as she slid the now ruined blouse out from under their captive victim.

The order sunk into Hannah’s stomach like a block of ice, yet before she could muster any response their twenty fingers were upon her. Both Ui and Emma pinched at the blonde’s uncovered flesh, an incursion of dainty fingertips poking and stroking across her soft curves. Bucking feverishly, Hannah tried to roll sideways, throw herself clean off the bed and hopefully bring the redhead down with her. Barely getting off her back one of Ui’s hands caught her shoulder, which still left three hands free to tickle the scantily clad P.A. Shoved back down onto the bed sheet she kept one leg kicking, spasming wildly as the two intruders pinched her tummy, prodded her ribs and drilled menacingly into her squishy sides.

“Stop! Ahaehahaha! I ca-aeeeieehahaha!” Wheezing broken words Hannah tried to speak, torrents of laughter cutting her off as she struggled. Her large breasts shook in the confines of her straining bra, her face flushing redder by the second. Long strands of hair flicked across her face which tickled her lips and nose, hardly noticeable when put against the four hands crawling all over.

“You’d think she’d save herself the trouble, wouldn’t you?” Ui teased, slipping her skilled touch easily by Hannah’s bound hands and dancing her long nails across terribly sensitive skin. “Someone this ticklish usually just gives up, you must be hiding something juicy!”

“Please! Eeeiihahaha! I don’t knahahaha!” Hannah’s eyes went wide as someone’s fingertip slid lethally close to her belly button. Despite the temptation to confess everything, she had to remind herself the consequences. Everything she’d worked her whole life for would be lost. When it came out what drove her to give it all up Hannah would be ruined. Forced to talk from being tickled, she would be a laughing stock. Even so, as Ui’s fingers scribbled up her ribs the pleading P.A knew her resolve wouldn’t last forever.

“Ohh, manners! You hear that Emma?” The older woman cooed, a mischievous smirk across her face as she clawed up and down the buxom girl’s midriff. “We appreciate you being polite my dear but it’s answers we really need.”

“I’m trying! Ahahah! Stopstahahaha!”

“Not trying hard enough!”

“Pleeeheeheese! Ican’tstanditaahaha!”

“Manners are nice, answers are better!” Ui darted her hands back and sent five fingers skating impishly just under Hannah’s underarms. “But we’ll take laughter too!”

“Neeeeeheeheehee!” Arching her back the busty girl threw her shoulders backwards as much as her bondage would allow. It was a pair of spots she couldn’t hope to reach, nor stop herself from trying regardless. Meanwhile the more timid of the two attackers suddenly had open access to Hannah’s cushy tummy. Taking devious advantage the redhead plunged both hands squeezing all over the trapped girl’s abdomen, an act that had her squealing incoherently.

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Ui said something and what few words Hannah managed to gasp were broken by her laughter. Emma wasn’t listening. She hadn’t heard her companion’s teasing or most of whatever it was their comely prisoner was trying to say. Stop, don’t, please, the enthralled redhead’s libido drank those gems up like they were water in a desert. More than anything it was the laughter Emma took in, the squeaking yelps and strained guffaws, fitful shrieks and desperate giggles. Gasoline on an already raging fire.

Somewhere deep inside, buried under the monstrous weight of her lust, was a tiny voice telling her this was wrong. A voice that had once been strong and powerful, a stern moral guide that Emma knew was best listened to. Against the might of her desire however, it was reduced to a muted mite of a thing. She might have heard it better if Hannah’s laughter weren’t so thrilling or if that panicked look in the P.A’s eyes weren’t so hypnotic. Or maybe good would have won out had the blonde’s voluptuous thigh not been rubbing between Emma’s legs.

Grinding herself against the bound girl’s wriggling leg it was all Emma could do not to moan openly. She made no efforts to hide her arousal otherwise though, nipples poking through the yellow of her shirt clear as day. Covering them up would require a hand and there was no way the fervent former journalist was willing to give either of those up. Hannah’s flinching flesh was warm to the touch, rapidly flexing muscles felt eagerly through the palms of Emma’s hands. Each squeeze produced a hectic burst of movement and high pitched sound, the waves of laughter vibrating through her fingertips and down, down to the pulsing swell between her thighs.

What a mess it must have been down there. Emma could feel her panties were soaked through. She was a monster, it didn’t matter, she was everything she fought against but Hannah’s sides were turning a light shade of pink and heaven help her if she didn’t want to see them get pinker. Digging in deep the fiery haired girl lobster clawed the poor P.A’s heaving stomach, her bare flesh kneading blissfully as she screamed. Emma squeezed her thighs tight around Hannah’s upper leg. The last time she had been this turned on was at the merciless hands of Jai Lin, except now all the wicked power was her’s and there was no suffering. No suffering except Hannah’s delicious agony, and the inevitable all-consuming regret that would grip her once this was over.

“Emma! Are you listening?!” Ui tapped her rapidly on one shoulder. The older woman might have spoken before that but it took a mighty effort to hear her, let alone focus on what she was saying. “Help me spin her!”

“Oh…” Emma blinked dumbly as she slid her hands begrudgingly off the breathless blonde’s sides.

As much as she wanted to keep tormenting the blonde, Emma knew better than to disobey Madam Ui. Scooting backward in a hurry and following her partner’s lead, she hooked her arms under the Hannah’s knees. Ui took hold of the P.A’s wrists and together they turned the breathless girl around, Emma shuffling on her knees and Ui sidestepping around the bedside. Hannah wriggled weakly, the aftermath from several long minutes of nonstop tickling keeping her from squirming free. Before she could recover enough to realize Ui’s plan they had their buxom interviewee laid onto her pillow, Emma sat between her ankles with an excellent view up her skirt.

“Help me here!” Ui demanded, she had both hands around Hannah’s wrists but the panicked girl was starting to regain some strength.

“What are you-no! Nono!” Hannah tugged sharply at her arms as they were forced halfway over her head.

Emma scrambled forward and straddled the blonde’s hips. She grabbed an elbow in each hand and pushed upward. Hannah gritting her teeth and strained to keep her arms down, the two other women each pursing their lips as they fought in the opposite direction. The closer her hands got to the railed head of the bed the harder Hannah fought, her bouncing hips giving Emma a heart pumping ride.

“Please no! PLEASE NO!” The P.A’s wide eyes were glaring upward, her begging words all fearful and slight hoarse. Horrified, she watched as her hands were forced against the head of the bed. As they held her there Ui moved swiftly, taking the loose length of rope and winding it around one of the railings.

As Ui tied the pleading girl’s hands firmly above her head, Emma hoped no one noticed as she gently grind her hips. Watching Hannah’s biceps strain to pull her arms free and the look of dread across her face when she realized she couldn’t, it was sadistic bliss. When Ui stepped away and Emma was able to loosen her grip, she leaned back and looked over the trapped P.A with a carnal hunger. Hannah grimaced as she continued to twist her arms, struggling against the rope. Her bulbous cleavage jiggled as she writhed, every succulent stretch of exposed skin just waiting to be tormented. Emma swallowed hard, savoring the moment of unmatched excitement and absolute devilry.

“She’s all yours.” Ui whispered seductively.

Emma’s hands rose up like she wasn’t in control, yet she did nothing to stop them. Her fingers wiggled slow and Hannah looked up at her, brow furrowed with worry. Between the expression of hopelessness and smooth skin of her completely unprotected underarms the captured blonde was just begging to be tickled. Of course she was begging for the exact opposite, shaking her head as she realized Emma’s target and wriggling in earnest as she watched the redhead’s hands inch closer. Hannah could beg all she liked, in fact it was encouraged, there was no stopping her punishment.

“Tickle tickle!” Emma said, surprising even herself.

Hannah winced, tried to pull herself higher and close her exposed hollows. ““Y-you don’t have to do this! Please, we can talk! You d-“

“Do what?” An alluring sense of cruelty had swept over the freckle-faced girl. With a sinister smirk the likes of which had never crossed her lips, Emma raked five fingers down each of the trapped woman’s underarms. “Oh, you mean this?”

“NAEEEIIHEEHEE!” Hannah jerked ferociously to the right, then rolled sharply back left, the bed rocking beneath as she howled.

Cheek to cheek the spasming girl grinned, the look of disbelief and alarm in her eyes telling a very different tale from that insuppressible smile. Her long hair flicked all over and her arms shook violently against their bondage. Emma squeezed her thighs tight as she straddled and rode the wildly bucking P.A’s hips, all the while clawing at her horrifically sensitive flesh. Behind her Hannah’s legs kicked out of control, beating at the mattress, bare heels sliding and slipping across the sheet.

Almost entirely lost to her lustful demons, Emma ran her wiggling fingers over the buxom girl’s heaving ribs and down her sides. Fearful about what she was turning into and equally as excited about the results, the timid girl turned torturer felt a single cold bead of sweat slide down one side of her forehead. Hannah was beginning to perspire too, and as Emma slid one drilling finger into the cackling blonde’s belly button it was made all the easier by the light sheen of sweat glistening across her midriff.

“GETITOUT! AHAHAHAEEEII!” Hannah pounded furiously up and down, her shapely butt hammering against her mattress.

Tightening her lips to stifle a moan, Emma kept that one finger swirling deep into the P.A’s navel. That single digit would have been enough to keep Hannah in fits, but doing just enough wasn’t the name of the game. Taking her free hand, the increasingly savage girl spidered five fingers up the blonde’s side, over her bra strap and clawed mercilessly at her tender ribcage. The squished flesh at the side of Hannah’s bouncing breast brushed against the top of Emma’s thumb, an invitation if ever there was one. Keeping four fingers burrowing into her ribs, the less-than-subtle redhead stretched her thumb a little higher and prodded the tip cruelly into the ballooning boob.

“Here…” Ui leaned in from the bedside. Emma had practically forgotten the former madam was there. “Let me help.”

While Hannah continued to thrash about, her face turning from pink to red, Ui snaked a hand under her back. Too entranced to pay any real attention to her partner’s latest bit of mischief, Emma continued teasing the blonde’s hypersensitive belly button while her free hand alternated between goosing her ribs and darting in and out of her underarm. Quite distracted herself, Hannah continued to laugh helplessly as the unnoticed hand fidgeted about underneath her. Then, in one precisely timed bit of dual motion the bra sprang loose and Ui’s other hand flew in to grab at the front of it. With a quick tug upward she whisked the unclasped bit of underwear upward, shoulder straps following as it was pulled up and over Hannah’s elbows.

Enormous milky white bosoms spilled and jiggled into the open, right before Emma’s eager eyes. Large pink nipples shook, tempting nubbins surrounded by puffy areole that had to be devastatingly sensitive. Stopping her assault and pulling back, the shockingly ruthless redhead watched the topless P.A’s naked boobs rise and fall as she panted heavily. Emma was panting a little herself as she imagined wrapping her lips around those enticing nipples, sucking and tonguing them with no one to stop her. In the midst of her perverse imaginings came an uninvited memory, a time when her own atrociously ticklish nipples had been skillfully tortured. Cringing as she recalled the terrifying time, the fear and helplessness of it returned. Long nails skittering around her swollen nipples, more nails still dancing across her defenseless feet, powerless to do anything about it.

“I…I can’t do this.” Emma’s voice quaked and she recoiled back.

“Where are you-“ Ui began as the redhead climbed off of their bare breasted victim.

“I-I’m sorry, I just-“ Sliding off onto the floor and brushing by Ui, Emma hurried for the door to the ensuite bathroom. “We shouldn’t be here, this is wrong, wrong…I-I need a minute!”

Closing the door behind her with a bang, the guilt ridden girl planted her back against it and took a deep, shaky breath. Puffing her cheeks as she breathed out, Emma’s worrisome expression turned to a infuriated frown. Looking down at her erect nipples pointing against her bra and shirt, she hurriedly placed her palms atop them and swept downward over and over, hoping her vile arousal could be wiped away. There was no coming back from this, the line had well and truly been crossed. She was every bit as bad as Jai Lin now, an immoral harpy lead by whatever wicked whim happened to tempt her. Emma stood gasping, bordering on hyperventilating, her hands cupped over each breast.

“Hello…?” Ui rattled the door handle and pushed a little.

“We-we need to go.” Emma pushed back, keeping the door shut. “We have to let her go and get out of here.”

“Open this door.”

“No, no. Only if you agree we’re leaving!”

“Open…this…” Ui pushed, opening a small gap. “…doorrrr...” She growled, shoving hard, the door opening just enough for a space big enough to slip one arm through. Her clawed hand reached around and squeezed Emma just above her hip.

“Eiie!” Leaping instinctively away, the surprised redhead stumbled toward the sink as Ui burst in behind her.

“There now-“ Ui shut the door calmly without taking her eyes off Emma. “-are you done being silly? You know what happens if we let her free. You know what Harry will do.”

“I-I don’t care!” Emma turned with her curvy butt pressed against the top of the cabinetry. She put both hands over the edge of the countertop, only then noticing her nipples were no less swollen than a moment before.

“You don’t care?” The older woman took a step closer, one eye brow raised high. “You think tickling one girl will matter to you when Harry Deveno gets his hands on you? Why don’t you go ask your friend Cindy what she’d have done if she had the choice, hmm?”

“Cindy didn’t have a choice, but we do! And this is the wrong one.”

“Oh please. You want to stop Jai Lin? Sam Lucas?”

“Not like this.”

“You’re the one who went after Deveno despite-“

“I know! I know. And I’m sorry.” Emma squirmed a little as Ui stepped even closer. “I was wrong not to listen, and we’re both wrong now. But that doesn’t mean we can’t find a better w-“ The intimidating madam came within an inch, so close the temperature of the room seemed to rise dramatically. “Wh…what are you doing?”

“I…” Ui’s voice turned even huskier than usual as she slid one hand around the redhead’s right wrist and held it tight. “…am talking some sense into you.” She pressed up against Emma, lips caressing at her freckled cheeks, their ample bosoms squishing together.

“St…stop…” Emma quivered as she felt hot breath against her ear lobe. Ui’s other hand slid between them and began fondling at her belt.

“Stop?”

“D-don’t…” She grabbed at the older woman’s wrist, knees trembling.

“Don’t?”

“Please…” Emma fumbled at Ui’s fingers but her belt clinked open regardless. She pushed forward and Ui pushed back, nimble digits flicking open the button at the top of her jeans.

“Please?” Ui kissed gently at the redhead’s ear as she unzipped her fly. “All your favourite words.”

“Ah!” Slapping her hand back to the countertop, Emma gripped it tight. Fingers crept under the elastic of her pink panties and she rolled her head back, mouth agape. Further down the older woman’s fingers slid until they found a hot, soaking mess. One fingertip glided up between the redhead’s labia and with effortless tenderness stroked across her swollen clit. “Aw…awhgohod…”

“On the other side of that door…” Ui whispered in the moaning girl’s ear, her deft fingertip rubbing slowly up and down. “is a very, very ticklish girl.”

“Ahmm-ahh I-I-kn-ohhh…” Emma writhed between the sink and devious seductress, gripping the edge of the countertop like she was about to pull it from the wall.

“She is helpless…”

“Pl-pleasaahh…st-stooohhoo…”

“You have all the power…”

“Ah!”

“You can tickle her…”

“I ah-I cahohh…I cannnn’t…”

“…out of her mind.” Ui nipped at Emma’s ear. “And if you don’t….” She sped up the masterful handy work down in the warmth of the redhead’s panties. “You won’t have to worry about Harry Deveno…because I will take you back to that warehouse and my girls and I will tickle you until you pass out.”

“Oh! Ohh! OooOOoohh…” Her thighs shook like they were about to buckle under a great weight. Between the fingertip stroking her excruciatingly sensitive clit and the image of her own naked body under the merciless hands of four other women, Emma was about to melt.

“And the moment you wake up we will tickle you even more.” The older woman wasn’t done, her teeth and lips grazing around Emma’s ear. “Of course that may be…exactly…what you want.” She pulled her head back and they locked eyes.

Glassy eyed and verging on an orgasm that would surely see her collapse to the bathroom floor, the breathily moaning girl recalled the story of Hania. A heartbreaking tale, but that wasn’t the part which sprang to mind. In that moment with Ui’s hand down her pants, pussy pulsating and cheeks flushed red, Emma remembered one of the most depraved details from the madam’s retelling; Hania, bound from a ceiling with a dozen people watching on as two men tickled her feet, Sam Lucas tormented her from behind and Madam Ui herself worked the girl’s bare front. An unimaginable torture, one that was made worse when –according to Ui’s recounting of the ordeal- the then young Mr. Lucas had denied Hania her air, forcing her into unconsciousness before allowing her to breathe again. Each time Hania woke she did so into a world of tickling, her tormentors never ending her suffering even for the few seconds she slipped into darkness.

The thought of that poor girl’s unending hell should have made Emma sick. A year ago, six months ago, a day ago, it would have. Now, her mind whirling with salacious fantasies and driven by carnal debauchery, the lewdly thrusting redhead wished she could have been there. To see Hania drift into a fitful, twitching sleep and seconds later wake to realize the nightmare never ended. She imagined herself in that same scenario, men or women or whoever was cruel enough, it didn’t matter, all of them tickling her milky freckled flesh, fading in and out as she screamed with laughter. Emma started into Ui’s cunning gaze and felt a searing heat begin to spread throughout her loins.

“You want an end to this?” Ui slid her hand out from the redhead’s jeans and took a big step backward. “Get back out there and do as you’re told.”

“Ahh…ah…wh…?” Emma stayed tense, gasping with her jeans hung open and soaked panties displaying the shape of her throbbing pussy. “Pl…please…”

“Now.”

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The moment her bathroom door had closed Hannah started picking at the rope. Paying little attention to the muffled voices of her lunatic visitors, the half naked P.A rolled to one side and tried her darndest to undo the older one’s surprisingly intricate series of knots. A few seconds in, her fingers barely able to so much as reach, Hannah scooted up a little and set about biting.

“C’monnn…” She’d muttered to herself with rope between her teeth. A minute went by with no progress yet no less determination. In fact, for the few short minutes the two women were in the other room Hannah only paused her escape attempt once, right when she heard the younger one start to moan. Opting to ignore her perverse guests as whatever vulgarity they were up to grew louder, the buxom girl gnawed furiously at the biggest of the knots. As the passionate act on the other side of the door increased in energy so too did Hannah’s struggling, grunting and chomping and pulling at the damn rope, right up until the bathroom door swung open again.

Without letting the rope from between her teeth Hannah’s eyes shot sideways. Emma stormed into the room, her face much redder than before and an unnervingly wild look in her eyes. It look a second, maybe less, for the charging young woman to pace from the bathroom door to the bedside. In that tiny snippet of time Hannah gnashed at the rope, clenching her teeth and pulling madly, only letting go when her mouth opened against her will. Emma pounced, fingers poised into great claw shapes as she leapt upon the mattress and attacked with an animalistic savagery.

“AHAEHAhahaha!” Hannah rolled away from the unloosened rope and curled herself up, trying desperately to protect her ribs and stomach. “Nohohohae! Stohop! Staheehahaha!”

Any hint of hesitance the curly haired girl had previously shown was left behind, she was a whole different beast now. From reluctant to cautious to reluctant again, all of that had apparently been shredded away in the bathroom, much to Hannah’s squealing dismay. Kicking and bucking on her side, the trapped blonde shook as Emma’s tiny fingertips wiggled boisterously over her naked torso. Into her alarmingly ticklish underarms, down across her bare jiggling bosoms, fingers clawed at her tummy and drilled at her heaving ribs. One rogue digit spun into the spasming P.A’s navel and with a shriek she death-rolled onto her stomach. It was a move driven by pure defensive instinct and one she instantly regretted as the freckled menace jumped onto her back.

Feeling the redhead’s weight come down upon her lower spine Hannah bucked, pushing up with her knees and forcing them both a couple of well earned inches off the sheet. Another split second and she’d have thrown Emma clear, if only the wily journalist hadn’t wormed the tips of her index fingers directly into her pinkened sides. With a loud squeak the surprised blonde dropped down, her legs splaying out behind her. Not allowed so much as the chance to think about trying again, Hannah tore into a fit of wheezing giggles when she felt five fiendish fingers pinch their way up her torso.

“Naaaheeheehee!” Forehead pressed hard into the pillow, the facedown P.A kicked her lower legs, the tops of her upturned feet slamming repeatedly against the bed. Emma straddled the back of her bouncing hips, pinning Hannah in place. With her arms tied above her head the impish attacker had full, open access to every inch of ticklish flesh from the underarms on down.

“Cootchy cootchy coo ticklee girl!” Emma sang, digging her fingertips into the ballooning sides of Hannah’s squished breasts.

“NOHAHAH! Notthereiiee!”

“Oh, not where? Not here?”

“AIIEEEHAHAHA!” Hannah howled, sweat drizzling down her brow as she threw her head back.

Had she any wits about her the half-mad girl would never have openly admitted to an especially ticklish area. Of course screaming ‘not there’ to a tickler could only have one outcome, and a painfully obvious one at that. As Emma’s sneaky hands took full advantage of the self-confessed weak spot, prodding and pinching at the cushiony flesh, Hannah felt the anguish of both her hyperticklishness and instant regret. More worrying still was what other secrets she may soon spill, both about her own body and her work with Harry Deveno. How much longer the threat of ruining her entire life would win out over the dreaded tickling was rapidly becoming shorter, and that was without taking into account the older woman.

Caught in the throws of ticklish agony, the convulsing blonde had almost forgotten that Ui was watching on, smirking wryly all the while. Crazed as she was by the younger girl’s ruthless assault Hannah didn’t notice at all as the black-clad older woman slid herself up on to the mattress. Positioning herself at the foot of the bed, Ui kneeled stealthily behind her eager companion, their voluptuous victim’s bare feet kicking before her. Only when a single sharp fingernail flicked across her left sole did the bound girl realize Ui’s change in location.

“EEEHEE!” Hannah jerked her left leg as far out to the side as possible. Feeling her abysmally ticklish foot be touched was shocking, and a devastating way of being made to remember that there were two people intent of driving her mad. Another of Ui’s talons found her right foot and the left dashed to the rescue, covering one terribly sensitive sole with the other. More wiggling nails came in and Hannah split her legs. Kicking and squealing, the poor girl’s feet were chased up and down and side to side across her bed sheet, all the while still contending with the ten other fingers pinching and squeezing her upper body.

Though her legs were relatively free there was still no escaping Ui’s hot pursuit. No matter where Hannah’s dainty feet fled to the older woman’s dancing nails found them, feathering quickly across her impeccably smooth soles. Bending her knees hurriedly so her heels met her shaking butt, kicking her lower legs lightning fast, spreading her feet out to either side of the bed, wiggling nails stroked and grazed at every desperate turn. Pointless though it was the loudly laughing P.A repeatedly clamped her thighs together, crisscrossing one foot over the other in the futile hope it would offer some small defense.

Calamitous minutes wore on with no escape possible. Words were few and far between, broken, gasped and useless as they were. Sweat glistened on the blonde’s back and drizzled down the bulbous sides of her large breasts, her crushed pillow damp from the thick beads that drained down her beet red face. Breathless yet still somehow finding the air to scream with laughter, Hannah’s sides from violated underarms to bucking hips were a ravaged deep pink. So frazzled was the buxom P.A that when Emma’s tiny hands reached around and slid underneath her there was no telling any difference between tickling or anything else, every touch eliciting torrents of explosive laughter.

Thrusting furiously in the hope of shooing the redhead’s hands out from beneath her, Hannah squealed uncontrollably as she felt fingers rummaging around her waistline. Even if Emma’s fondling hadn’t tickled terribly with every explorative prod, Ui’s vicious claws were still terrorizing the comely blonde’s helplessly sensitive soles. It was because of the older woman’s incessant foot chasing that the frenzied P.A had no idea nimble hands were unzipping her sensible skirt, not until it was sent sailing across the room. Left in only her white cotton panties Hannah had never been so willing to give up every secret she had, no matter how dangerous.

“What do you think Madam Ui?” Emma straddled the backs of the bound blonde’s upper legs, her knees clamping tight around quivering thighs. The younger one’s voice even sounded different now, confident and commanding like she’d been possessed by some domineering demon. “Does our new friend have a ticklish tooshie?”

Hannah’s eyes shot wide and a shuddersome tingle raced up her spine. The brief memory of her ex-boyfriend teasing her butt returned in full force, along with the heart racing dread that came with it. With her legs squeezed together there was little place for the busty girl’s feet to go. Maybe she could nail Emma with a heel-kick if she were lucky, though in her horribly weakened state it was unlikely to do much of anything. Curling her toes, Hannah’s soles wrinkled as she took a few panicked breaths. Now was the time to talk, her life’s work be damned, it was talk now or be tickled into oblivion.

“Deveno’s a-“ The nearly naked girl began just as she felt a series of soft pinches race along the exposed lower part of her butt cheeks, right above the crease that met her thighs. “YEEEIHAHA!”

Spasming violently, the bewildered P.A’s curvaceous cheeks tensed, large dimples forming on the outer sides. She arched her back and tried ferociously to roll away, the two small spots of quivering flesh helpless against Emma’s touch. Two seconds into the alarming ass tickling and Hannah felt a flurry of feathery skrittching across her unprotected soles, the combined onslaught sending her laughter into orbit. Thrashing like some deranged lunatic, the only thing louder than the bed head slamming against the wall was the berserk blonde’s shrieking cries, a cacophony of bellowing torment.

Though her panties would have done little against the tickling sensations, the girl sitting atop Hannah’s thighs made sure to stick to the exposed areas of her behind. Quickly stroking fingertips raced back and forth from the sides of her legs all the way into her inner thighs. From that most strenuously protected area Emma’s cruel digits ran up along the edges of the leg openings, never once stepping over onto the cotton. Clearly a natural sadist, the fiery haired journalist then clawed pitilessly at the meaty outer sides of each cheek, causing Hannah to screech uncontrollably.

Pinned and bound the only remaining freedom the intruders allowed their buxom hostage to have was the ability to slap her lower legs up and down. Even that small privilege was soon taken away as Ui held both ankles down just long enough to plant one knee across the back of them. With both upturned feet trapped between her knees the older woman no longer needed to chase Hannah’s hyperticklish soles through the air. Using all ten fingers the ruthless harpy descended her destructive talons down between her thighs. From the marshmallowy soft balls to tender heels, Ui raked her nails across the wailing blonde’s bare feet.

“IIIIEEEYAHAHAHAAAA!” Hannah roared as both women tickled her senseless.

More than anything she wanted to talk, to tell Ui and Emma everything they wanted to know. Despairingly the mindless P.A couldn’t muster so much as a single coherent syllable, let alone the words to express her compliance. God, how Hannah wished she had told them what they wanted to know before being chased upstairs. Before they’d tied her down or stripped her almost naked. Certainly before they had found two spots so atrociously sensitive it was impossible to tell which was worse. Only when Emma started pulling the manic girl’s panties down did she realize the heights of her ticklishness had yet to be reached.

“Here…” Emma climbed off to one side as she slid the P.A’s last piece of clothing down her thighs, leaving her shapely ass completely bare.

Hannah wheezed, gasping for air while the two women shuffled around behind. She twitched and squirmed as her loose panties were slipped down passed her knees. Some small effort was made to keep her legs together, a weak and ultimately useless attempt. With a girlish squeak the now fully naked P.A felt her last shred of dignity drag over her feet, curling her toes in one final sad bid to grab at the cotton. With her panties gone hands grabbed at Hannah’s ankles, feeble struggling doing nothing as her legs were pried apart. Weight rested down upon the back of both thighs, Ui and Emma both straddling a leg each. In unison they pulled the voluptuous young woman’s ankles up toward them, bending her knees back until her heels nestled into their generous bosoms.

“I…hhh…I’m…hhh...I can-I’ll talk-“ Hannah panted, her worn voice trembling as she felt her two torturers crisscross their arms around the front of her ankles. “Please-hhh-a second…hhh…just a sec-“

They heard her, she knew they did, but neither of them cared. Now that their helpless victim was broken Emma and Ui could hear her secrets whenever they wanted. It wasn’t about that anymore, Hannah’s confession might have been the ultimate goal but using her as their plaything was clearly their current objective. With their fingers reaching up from under either side of each foot, their palms keeping her still, the two vicious vixens let their detrimental digits run wild.

“NEEEIIIYAAEEI! EEIIIHAHAHA!” The nude girl bucked, her upperbody thrashing turbulently while her legs were hugged firm. Long nails grazed along the tips of her toes and fingertips dug vigorously underneath each one. Hannah’s soles stretched and wrinkled randomly, her feet twitching desperately in their individual confinements.

Rolling forcefully as much as she could, the poor P.A put the rope around her wrists to it’s most stringent test yet. As unyielding as it had ever been the thin bondage gave no slack. Twisting at the hips in each direction briefly revealed Hannah’s sweat slicked breasts, the sheet beneath her soaked-through. Long strands of hair matted to her back, shoulders and neck, the cackling girl’s round cheeks stretched and aching from endless laughter. Her eyes were wide with shock almost permanently, save for sporadic moments where she would shut them tight and scream into her pillow. The muffled howls had no influence on her tormentor’s one way or another, their fiendish fingers exploring every inch of the ballistic blonde’s soles no matter what anguished noises tore out of her.

Being tickled by two people at once was a nightmare scenario Hannah had never considered. Had she ever given such a situation any thought the simple idea alone would have been horrifying enough. What the ferociously struggling prisoner certainly wouldn’t have given any thought to was that two ticklers meant two very different techniques, neither more or less unbearable than the other. Where Ui’s methods were more calculated and precise, Emma’s were clumsy and random, each devastating in it’s own way. Combined, the two approaches made for a far more excruciating experience than they would have on their own. It was perhaps because of the older woman’s more experienced style of torture that her freckled friend followed closely when things changed for the worse.

“REIIIIIGGHHEEE!” Hannah yanked harshly at the rope when Ui’s plump lips kissed softly across her heel, the bed head slamming back against the wall so hard it put small dents in the paint. A second later Emma copied her tutor and the high pitched sounds that exploded from the hysterical P.A were unlike anything she imagined herself capable of.

Mixed with the spidery strokes of their fingers, the merciless pair kissed gently along the middle of Hannah’s arches. Hyper aware of every teasing touch the delirious girl could even feel each woman’s hair as it dangled, brushing lightly against the sides of her feet and tips of her toes. Once Ui’s warm lips reached the tender balls of her chosen foot she slid her fingers forward, took a solid grip and bent Hannah’s toes back. Emma followed a second later which forced both the wailing blonde’s soles stretched taut. Unable to move either foot the tiniest little bit, every inch of scratched-pink skin was wide open as the two evil ticklers began nibbling hungrily.

Hannah’s mind detonated into a nuclear level of ticklishness she didn’t think any human capable of, let alone could survive. Between the feathery caress of the two women’s lips and the harsher dragging of their teeth the feverishly mad girl became unhinged. Her mind lost and whirling ever deeper into insanity, what few miniscule shards of coherent thought she had left were of no help at all. Her body, her mind, everything that made Hannah Quist who she really was belonged to Emma and Ui. There was no limit to how much they could make her suffer, no end to the raw and relentlessly alarming sensitivity at the end of each quivering nerve. As if to drive home that very point the wicked duo began flicking the tips of their tongues across Hannah’s soles, an act so disastrous that it shattered those last remaining fragments of her sanity.

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Nothing remained of the once sensible and bookish Emma Clark. Ravenous lust had shattered her sanity to fine dust, blown to the winds and not given a second thought. All that mattered now was the flood of arousal between her tightly squeezing thighs, the almost painful swell of her rigid nipples and the taste of desperately ticklish skin against her lips. She held tight and tickled and tickled, fingers working over one ravaged-red sole, the feeling of Hannah’s struggling foot against her breasts making Emma’s pussy throb with severe intensity.

As the shrieking blonde’s calf muscle flexed between the redhead’s thighs she grind against it lewdly, making cruel love to the unwilling sole. A quick glance over to Ui saw the stern woman’s own nipples protruding stiffly through her shirt, a small fact that made Emma’s eyes roll back with arousal. A decision was made then, not one of conscious choice but instead by the primal urges spurring her on; She let Hannah’s overly tickled foot break free and quickly spun about. As the brazen girl turned she saw Ui move too, swiftly pinning both their victim’s feet to the mattress and straddling her ankles. Emma crawled a little higher up the bed, while she stalked on all fours it was clear from the shrill spike in laughter that her partner’s nails had touched down upon their poor prisoner’s vulnerable feet.

Hannah’s hips were bucking with such speedy ferocity the slamming of the bed head against the wall sounded like gun fire. Where small indents had previously been in the paint there were now little cracks in the drywall, the result of mindless panic that had no care beyond her torment. Taking all the wailing laughter and those bouncing bare ass cheeks as invitation, Emma pounced. Like a starved raptor devouring it’s latest kill the ravenous huntress clawed at her shrieking prey’s ribs and gnawed at the side of her neck. Hannah squealed and pulled her shoulder up as best she could, a feeble effort against the teeth and tongue feeding hungrily on her terribly sensitive skin.

Relishing the salty taste of slick skin, Emma kept flickering her tongue into the nape of the P.A’s twitching neck, all the while her hands pinched mercilessly up and down her sides. With a flick of her leg the fiery haired journalist straddled the backs of Hannah’s thighs, a quick maneuver that resulted in the curvy girl’s butt pressing into her stomach. Laying against the naked girl’s back Emma rode gleefully, her carnal joy elevated immensely in the knowledge that every wild thrust and violent jerk was an effort to dismount her.

Holding on tight with her legs, the vengeful journalist darted her wiggling digits into the buxom girl’s quivering underarms. The feeling of such nerve-wracked and hyperaware skin against her fingertips made Emma’s inner thighs tense. She bit and nibbled and nipped at Hannah’s neck, shifting from one side to the other as the frazzled young woman did her best impression of a turtle pulling it’s head in. Knowing Ui was busy working over the P.A’s upturned soles all the while was a wondrously sadistic treat, a fact that fanned the redhead’s flame almost as much as her own abhorrent actions.

“You’re so ticklish…” Emma wrapped her lips around the thrashing blonde’s right ear, her voice throaty with sin. Through the roaring laughter there was no way to tell if her words could be heard, even that close, yet it thrilled her to think the teasing might land somewhere in Hannah’s whirling mind. “We’re going to tickle you all day…” She cooed and darted the tip of her tongue behind the spasming girl’s earlobe. “What would you do to stop me, I wonder?”

Those were Jai Lin’s words, and they’d just slipped right out. It should have terrified her, hearing the same taunting lines echoed out of her own mouth. When it had been Emma on the receiving end she’d been played like a puppet, mind and body both. How quickly she had crumbled under the witch’s spell, agreeing to commit any foul deed if it could keep those wicked fingers off her freckled flesh. She was still being played, Jai Lin pulling the strings despite all the time and distance between them. It should have terrified her, instead the sordid memories and manipulations only turned Emma on more.

“There’s nothing you can do.” She scrapped her teeth against Hannah’s ear, her voice growling. “I won’t stop. You’re my ticklish pet now!”

Kissing down the length of the squealing girl’s spine, Emma kept clawing into the P.A’s convulsing, squishy sides. Sliding backward she shifted lower, scooting along Hannah’s trapped legs until her butt bumped gently into Ui’s own shapely rear end. With her behind pressed up against her partner, the savagely horny girl found herself face to face with their nude prisoner’s bouncing ass, flexing and jiggling sporadically as she was tickled senseless. In an act that sensible, well-behaved Emma never would have so much as imagined let alone considered, the wild-eyed vixen grabbed a fistful of each cheek and buried her face in between them.

Digging deep with all ten fingers, Emma licked speedily just a couple of inches south from Hannah’s tailbone. From the very first lap of her tongue she felt the blonde’s butt muscles shake, tensing harshly in her grasp. A throat straining yowl tore from the hopelessly ticklish P.A, her ravaged body pounding maniacally against the creaking bed. Lost to the throes of perverse passion, Emma grind herself lewdly against the backs of her plaything’s legs, thunderous swells of lust threatening to spill over at any second.

Already moaning as she squeezed and licked and kissed hungrily, the formerly studious girl let out a particularly loud gasp when she felt one of Ui’s hands fondling with her belt buckle. With one set of nimble fingers still scampering around Hannah’s defenseless soles the older woman had reached around with her other hand. Prying open the belt, Ui easily plucked the button of Emma’s jeans apart before unzipping her fly. Working blindly yet no less skillfully, the cunning woman slid her fingers into the sopping wet mess of the curly haired journalist’s panties for a second time. Like a heat-seeking missile one fingertip instantly found it’s target, stroking gently across the quivering girl’s clit.

“AH!” Emma cried out, thrusting her hips eagerly into the seductive touch. The fiendish digit rubbed back and forth, two fingers parting her pussy lips as the third worked it’s irresistible magic.

Continuing to lick and claw at Hannah’s excruciatingly ticklish ass, the hoarsely gasping girl felt lightning crackle between her thighs. An insuppressible tingling burst up through her lower tummy, her butt shoving back repeatedly into Madam Ui. Her hands grabbed up across heaving sides, her grip sliding easily across sweat soaked skin. Finding the ballooning sides of cushy breasts, Emma squeezed, the girl trapped beneath her screaming in delicious response. It was that new pitch in the blonde’s howl that pushed the merciless journalist into an unbridled fit of ecstasy, her legs clamping hard and ass raising high into the air.

“AH! AH! AHNNN!” Emma bit the inside of Hannah’s ass cheek as she bellowed, wet heat gushing over Ui’s slyly stroking hand.

An orgasm of almighty proportions washed throughout her tensing body, wave after blissful wave of sensuous warmth. Feeling the P.A’s cushy flesh between her fingers and taste against her lips, hearing the poor girl’s breathless laughter throughout, it kept Emma writhing far longer than any orgasm before it. Naturally Madam Ui’s deft fingers continued playing their part, stroking eagerly across the redhead’s to the point even the most tender touch soon became maddening.

No longer able to stand it, Emma huffed, scrambled to reach down between her thighs and pull the older woman’s hand free. “Ah-ah-st-stop…” She sat up, pulling at Ui’s wrist, though it refused to go willingly. “E-eno-oh-enough...” Squirming and weakened, her limbs felt like jelly. “Stop!” With a squeak the soaked girl managed to tug the hand out from under her panties.

“Don’t quit on me just yet.” Ui had ceased her full onslaught of Hannah’s feet, instead opting to drag one fingernail lazily around the panting, giggling girl’s soles. “We still need our naked friend here to talk.”

Emma fell forward, collapsing on to the sheet beside the twitching blonde. The warm glow of orgasm was still beaming, her few thoughts slow as winter molasses. Curling up on one side the spent girl looked at Hannah through half open eyes. She was flinching randomly, giggling through heavy breaths, her glistening skin littered with patches of red. Red where Emma’s hands had pinched and poked. Suddenly the idea of their buxom captive screaming for mercy was no longer so appealing. As the orgasm subsided and thoughts returned faster, so too did the apprehension. Except now there was nothing to be apprehensive about, the wicked deed was done. She was every bit the villain she had set out to stop.

“You-” Emma pushed herself up and moved toward Hannah. When the stark nude girl looked up it stopped her short, the look in her eye one of absolute ruin. “You need to talk.” She spoke softly, it was difficult to find the words as the conquered prisoner’s brow furrowed and her trembling lips constantly fought back unwanted smiles. “She’ll do worse….we will. I can’t undo it now…please, please just tell us whatever it is you know. I’m not sure how far we’re willing to go but I know you won’t be able to take it.”

“I tried-I tried to tell you-“ Hannah stammered and pursed her lips to stifle a giggle. “Pl-pleaheeheese…make-make her stohop.”

Emma shook her head. “I can’t do that. Just talk. I want this to end too, believe me.” It sounded good, so good the petit girl almost believed it herself.

“Ha-Harry Devenohohee-“ Shutting her eyes tight the cringing blonde tensed, Ui must have stroked an especially ticklish spot. “He’s under-“

Something crashed through the window, glass shards shattering across the bedroom floor. Emma whipped around to look, a tinkling noise the only sound as Ui had paused to glare down at the carpet too. Hannah held her breath. A rolling object caught the redhead’s eye, a rogue baseball perhaps. The ball stopped and Emma focused on it, but it was no ball at all. More shaped like a pill and with a metallic shine, a dark seam around it’s middle where two halves joined.

“What-?” Emma turned to Ui, frowning and confused. The look on the older woman’s face was less perplexed, her eyes wide.

“We have to go!” She barked and sprung off the bed. At that exact moment a strange hissing sound came from the metallic pill.

“What the-“ Squinting back at the thing Emma could see the air distorting around it, like heat waves coming off tarmac.

“Emma!” Ui was already at the door. She grabbed the handle and pushed, then grabbed again with both hands and gave it another try. Turning back to face the bed the normally stoic woman had a look of dread spread across her well defined features. “It’s stuck!” Her voice cracked a little and the strangest little smile crept across Ui’s lips.

Emma scrambled off the bed and could feel her own mouth trying to twist into a smirk. “What’s happenineeheeing?” A most unintentional giggle tittered out of her and the utterly confused girl clamped both hands over her mouth.

“Ga-has!” A goofy grin forced Ui’s lips open. Motioning one hand at her partner, the foolishly smiling woman started striding quickly toward the washroom. “Come-come oneeheeehee! In herehahaha!” Her face contorted as she fought the bubbling laughter. Stopping halfway to the other room, Ui planted one hand against the wall to steady herself. “Heeheehee! It’s Devenohohohaha!”

“Whatahaha!” Emma stumbled, catching herself on the bedside. She wanted to march on, hide from whatever was happening, but her knees had turned to jello. Tears were starting to well in her eyes and as she looked over to Ui she could the older woman was teary eyed too.

“Weheehee! We have to-“ Ui was sliding down the wall, her laughter growing as she fought against it.

Leaning onto the bedside, the teary eyed redhead tried to stay standing. Hannah was shaking with laughter too, despite no one tickling her. The nude girl looked every bit as perplexed as Emma felt, their shared confusion of no comfort as she collapsed down to the floor. Pawing at the sheet in an effort to stay upright, the giggling girl could feel herself growing rapidly weaker. Like slipping back into her post-orgasmic state, Emma’s thoughts were quickly melting to mush, barely able to think straight as she began to wheeze. Looking down it was one of her few remaining shreds of sanity that noticed the front of her jeans were still hanging wide open, damp panties on full display.

“Aiehahaha! They’re going to tickle us! Eeeiihaha!” The dopey journalist cried breathlessly, her words had been intended to express panic but came out as if she thought the idea hilarious. Fumbling with the front of her jeans, Emma’s fingers disobeyed her every command, hardly able to grip the button, let alone pop it back in place.

Busy making one unwieldy attempt after another to redress herself, it took a moment to notice someone else had entered the bedroom. Hearing Madam Ui squawk some obscenity or another caught Emma’s attention, and the madly cackling girl looked up from her failed buttoning efforts. With tears now streaming down her freckled cheeks it was difficult to make out the finer details of a large man in all black. As best the absurdly giddy girl could tell, he was looming over Ui and grabbing at her. Ui fought back, slapping and kicking, each defensive blow having about as much success as Emma had doing up her pants.

“Nahaha! Offmeheeheehee!” The bewildered Madam’s demands lacked their usual bite, instead sounding high pitched and silly. The man wrangling her pulled one arm, shoved her with one great black boot and rolled the fitful woman over onto her stomach. When he crouched down to grab at her wrists Emma noticed some manner of gas mask covering his entire face.

“Ui! Ahaha! Ui! Lethergohahaha!” Falling forward onto one hand, her mind crumbling more with every second, the buxom journalist reached out with her other hand. She wanted to crawl over there, to grab at the man, maybe between them she and Ui could break free.

Emma didn’t even make it an inch before another man appeared in the doorway, same heavy boots, dark pants, gloves, the gas mask, and this one was even larger than the first. With frightening speed the faceless beast of a man strode directly toward the howling girl. Scrambling backward, her loose belt jingling as she scooted along on her butt, she watched in horror as he pulled a pair of shiny metal handcuffs from his hip. Emma’s eyes darted about as her unending laughter completely undermined the abject terror pounding within. Over by the far wall Ui was a lost cause, a pair of cuffs already firmly around her wrists, her capturer lifting her off the floor. Bumping into the other wall, Emma stopped, there was nowhere to go. She raised one open palm, a last pitiful effort to hold back the giant coming for her.

Another man appeared in the door, then a fourth right behind him. “Not meeeheehahaha!” Emma squirmed helplessly as the cold metal wrapped around her extended wrist. She was pulled and turned, forced down onto her stomach just as Ui had been. Her free arm was caught and bent back, locked in placed and cuffed to the other. “Noahaha! Not me! Ahaha!” The huge man behind her lifted her up, held both arms and spun her about. With ease he grabbed at her waist and the fiery haired girl squealed when he launched her off the floor and over one shoulder.

Writhing weakly as she was carried out of the room the normally astute girl’s garbled thoughts were fading into darkness. As she and the giant entered the hall Emma looked back, the third and fourth masked men were kneeling on the bed. Hannah was rolling wildly between them, their gloved hands pinching and poking at her voluptuous naked body. How much of the trapped blonde’s laughter was from the gas and how much was a result of the tickling was possible to say, all Emma knew was that she felt entirely, contemptibly responsible. It was the last thing she remembered before drifting into a giggly, guilty slumber.

Chapter Ten: Background on The Black Box​

“Hey, you. You’re finally awake.” Said a deep voice.

There was a low, constant hum behind whoever was speaking. Emma shifted a little, opened her eyes into tiny slits. What little she could see didn’t make much sense but at least she could think straight. In fact, the weary young woman’s thoughts were as sharp as they’d ever been. One might have expected some measure of grogginess given the last few moments she remembered, instead she felt energized. Better than any nap or goodnight’s sleep, it was a magnificent feeling. Less wondrous was realizing her belt was still loose, jeans still open at the front. More disheartening still was that Emma’s arms were above her head, and a little pull to bring them down resulted in nothing.

“Wakey, wakey.” Said the same voice, a little singsong in the tone. “Come on, I know you can hear me. Don’t make me tickle you…”

Emma opened her eyes. She was in a seat, and a nice one at that. White leather, reclined back, the footrest out. Laying on one side the bound girl took in her new surroundings, though awake as she felt it took a minute to understand where exactly they were. A long, tube shaped room, small windows lining the walls. A small plane and a fancy one, the low hum it’s quiet engines working away. Blue sky and clouds moved slowly outdoors, my god, Emma thought, she was on a plane.

Rolling onto her back the trapped girl made another try at pulling her arms down. The handcuffs had been replaced by soft rope, tied firm around her wrists and to something at the top of her headrest. Her kidnappers had given Emma the window seat, the aisle seat next to her empty. Directly across was another seat facing her, it too without an occupant, and the one beside that held a still unconscious Madam Ui. Laying on her one side just as Emma had the older woman snoozed soundly, unaware that she was tied with her arms above her head as well.

“Of course-“ A big man stepped into the aisle, between the two rows of mostly empty seats. “I might still tickle you.” He was a great broad shouldered fellow in his late thirties, bald headed and blue in the eyes. His most striking feature was a big jet-black beard, the kind a biker might sport. The same beast who’d handcuffed her back at Hannah Quist’s house, Emma guessed. “Got a while to go before we get to where we’re going.” He said, grinning boisterously. “Gotta do something to pass the time.”

A tinge of arousal made the redhead’s toes curl inside her socks and she hated herself for it. Adding to her self-pity was that she only then noticed Hannah in a seat across the aisle way. Even with the big bearded man obscuring the view quite a bit Emma could tell the captive blonde was still completely nude. Her arms were tied in the same way Ui’s were, though the naked P.A was wide awake. She sat curled up, her knees in front of her large bosoms, the only cover the poor girl had. Emma recalled the men in masks upon the bed and another tremor of lust fluttered between her thighs.

“Or I could tickle blondie here.” He turned, stepping out the way so the two girls could see each other. The look on Hannah’s face was a heart sinking mix of fear and burning hatred. “But this one’s the real prize.” With a waggling finger the giant pointed to Madam Ui. “No offense to you two ladies, but ol’ Ui and I go way back.”

“Where are you taking us?” Emma’s voice trembled, little more than a whisper. She didn’t exactly want the man’s attention but maybe if she could keep him talking it would keep his hands of Ui or Hannah. Of course there was that not-so-small-anymore part of the sinful girl that wanted to see one or both of her fellow captive’s laughing and pleading while the beastly man poked and prodded at them. A preferable outcome to having his enormous hands wander all over her hopelessly ticklish body, Emma thought. Certainly she didn’t want that. That would be terrible. Just so, so awful. Her nipples swelled at the thought.

“To my boss.” The strapping fellow turned to the redhead, smirking as he looked down from her eyes to the stained pair of pink panties on full show.

A shiver ran up the back of Emma’s neck and behind her ears. Before she spoke the bashful girl turned onto her side, crossing one leg over the other in the hope of hiding her carnal shame. “Who are you? Who’s your boss?”

“This one knows who I am.” He pointed a thumb at Ui. The former madam appeared to be stirring, her legs shifting and her nose wrinkling as she woke. “Don’t you, darlin’? Couldn’t leave well enough alone, I guess. All those years lost to the shadows and the moment you pop your head up look what happens. Right back in the same boat you were all them years ago.”

“You work for Jai Lin.”

“That’s a good guess.” The muscular man nodded and smiled as if he were quite proud of Emma’s deduction. “No, I never worked for her. Never worked for the Madam here either.”

“Deveno then.”

“More or less.”

Ui opened her eyes and looked up at the burly kidnapper. “Samuel Lucas.”

“There she is!” He spun his attention back to the older woman. Emma felt the tension of having the giant’s eyes on her wash away, along with a deluge of anxious anticipation. And, maybe, the tiniest hint of disappointment. “Slight correction though there Madam-“ He continued, moving his hands in rambunctious fashion as he spoke. “Me and the boys haven’t worked for Sergeant Lucas in years, you’re gal pal Jai Lin made sure of that.”

“If you’ve a vendetta, maybe we can help one another.” Ui showed no sign of the concern spread across Hannah or Emma’s faces. Despite having her hands tied the cunning fox of a woman was still quick to look for advantage. “After all, Jai Lin was the only girl among Harold’s harem that you never got your hands on wasn’t she, Mr. Reznor?”

“You do remember…”

“Of course I do, Holden.” With a frown of mock-offense, the shrewd madam shook her head. “How could I ever forget?”

“How indeed.” The kidnapper called Holden Reznor growled suggestively, an animalistic look crossing his face. The expression only lasted a moment before bouncing back to something more gleeful. He took a step backward and dropped, landing his great mass of sinewy muscle into the seat opposite Madam Ui. “Still, I’ve no ill will toward Ms. Lin. The boys and I all understood why we had to part ways, it was the sensible choice. And we landed on our feet-“ Reznor craned his neck back and raised his voice toward the front of the plane. “-didn’t we lads?”

“That we did!” Came another man’s voice from further down the cabin.

“Living in luxury!” Said another.

How many of them there were altogether it was hard to say, though Emma figured at least four based on how many had raided Hannah’s bedroom. Four fit men, maybe more, all with a long history of tickling unwilling girls. Piecing it together, between Reznor’s mention of ‘Sergeant’ Lucas and what Ui had told her just days before, the men clad in black must have been part of Sam Lucas’ squad back in the Marine Corps. A squad who, under their sergeant’s command had committed heinous crimes of such specific nature that it caught the ear of the late Harold Deveno. According to Ui, Harold had seen fit to not only pull Sam and his men out of the deep trouble they were in, but make them the primary guards of his secret hideaway in northern Japan. The girls of Harold’s harem, as Ui told it, never had it so bad.

“All the same-“ The older woman wriggled back, sitting upright as best she could in the reclined seat. “It was Jai Lin’s machinations that killed Harold. You can’t possibly tell me your lives are any better now than they were back then?”

“Oh yeah.” Reznor stretched his tree trunk thick arms out wide in what looked like a very satisfying stretch. “We had it good alright, but it’s not like we were kicked to the curb after the old man bit the dust. The Sergeant and Ms. Lin let us tag along on their adventures for a good while. Paid us all off handsomely too when it was time to split up.”

“Nonetheless.” A note of irritation seeped into Ui’s tone. “Whatever she paid you was a pittance compared to how much she stole. Work with us and I promise you and your men a king’s ransom when we take down Jai Lin.”

Reznor leaned forward, elbows sliding across his thighs until he stopped, arms propped upon his knees. Squinting thoughtfully, the brawny fellow laced his fingers together. As he tapped the tips of his index fingers against one another, a curious frown crossed his face. Emma frowned a little herself as she tried to imagine what he was thinking. Most likely he was weighing the promise of money against the ire of Harry Deveno Junior. A man like Reznor hardly seemed the type to be intimidated, even by those wielding great power.

“HA!” The bearded man boomed, slapping both hands down on the armrests as he threw his head back. “Hahaha! Oh, you wily ol’ witch, you! Your hear that boys?” He called toward the front of the plane. “Our dear friend Madam Ui here wants to make us rich!”

A chorus of jeers and laughter echoed from the far end of the cabin. Ui’s face soured even more than usual, her lips pursing tight. Whatever the rambunctious group of soldiers wanted it was clear they couldn’t be negotiated away from their goal. As seemed to be her standard mood of late, Emma felt strangely conflicted about the defeat. On the one hand if Reznor and his gang had accepted the bribe it would make life a lot easier. They could help bring down Jai Lin, and it would hopefully avoid the threat of in-flight torture that was hanging in the air. On the other hand the thought of seeing Ui or Hannah become the onboard entertainment already had Emma’s nipples protruding through her shirt. It occurred to her then that with the amount of men aboard there would be more than enough rough hands to torment all three women at the same time. Suddenly images of brutish men tearing at her clothing entered the blushing girl’s thoughts, steely arms holding her down while well-trained fingertips danced unimpeded across her explosively sensitive skin. How she would beg, how she would scream. How they could use her nubile body anyway they wished.

“We are but simple soldiers, Madam Ui.” Reznor put one open palm flat against his chest. “All we want is to follow orders and get a bit of action. A king’s ransom? Well that’s a little too lofty for us.”

“If it’s action you want-“ The older woman tried for another opportunity but was cut off before she could finish.

“-I’ve got it right here.” The huge man completed Ui’s sentence, though certainly not in the way she’d intended. Putting both hands on his knees, Reznor raised his hulking frame off the seat and stood upright, the top of his hairless head very nearly brushing against the ceiling. “Few things I hate more than being bored, you know? The lads there, they can stomach sitting still a bit better than I can, but me, I like to being doing something.” He took a couple of short steps toward Madam Ui, stopping just as he reached the outstretched footrest. Towering over the irritated woman, Reznor began wiggling all ten of his fingers in the air. “I like to keep my hands busy!”

“Don’t. You. Dare.” Ui’s entire body tensed as she glared up at him with a look that seemed to suggest she, somehow, was the one in control.

Bending over slowly, Reznor’s mischievous grin sent a clear message that he had no interest in obedience. Ui pushed back further, as far into the back of her seat as she could, her svelte frame rigid with unprotected anticipation. She could have kicked at him, Emma supposed, though it wouldn’t have done much good, especially with only a pair of thin black socks covering her feet. As her breathing grew quicker Ui’s ample chest raised up and down, the giant coming toward her making certain to draw out the suspense to the point of agony.

“When’s the last time anyone tickled you, hm?” Reznor teased, his eyebrows raised with boyish playfulness. “Was it me and the lads, way back when? I bet you’re even more ticklish now…”

Between the huge man’s bass taunting and Ui’s tension, Emma had goosebumps. Biting gently at her bottom lip the flustered girl couldn’t look away, nor did she want to. Hannah was watching the show as well, though her reaction was clearly some mixture of disgust and horror. A far more appropriate response, thought the rosy cheeked redhead as her own thinking turned darker by the second. Surely the nude P.A could find some joy in seeing Madam Ui wriggle, especially after what they had done to her. But not everyone thought that way, with such sadism and vengeful malice. Emma used to be one of those people, fair-minded and empathetic. No doubt she was a bad person these days. A bad girl. A bad girl who needed to be punished.

“Nnnggh!” Ui jerked her arms, twisting in the seat as Reznor’s ten fingertips wiggled around her lower ribcage. Pulling at her bound hands, the groaning woman turned her lips in, clamping her mouth shut as her eyes shot wide. A deathly frown furrowed her brows as she squirmed, rolling in place as the big man’s digits poked softly around her ribs.

“I remember all your most ticklish spots!” The Viking-like man’s fingers moved down a little, jabbing gently at the straining woman’s abdomen. One of Ui’s feet swung upward and made contact with his stomach, though he didn’t so much as flinch. “And we’re going to get them all! Then, if there’s time-“ Reznor turned his head and looked directly at Emma. “-we’ll find all of yours too!”

Emma stifled a barely audible moan. Between her quivering thighs the lustful girl could feel herself on the verge of becoming wet all over again. Seeing the behemoth of a man look at her like that, all cheerful and eager and unstoppable, it sent her libido reeling. Any sane person would have been beside themselves after being knocked unconscious, tied up by strange men and put on a plane to who-knows-where. It was a concern, truly it was, and Emma recognized she should have been much more worried about her various troubles. If only it weren’t for her overwhelming sense of arousal dwarfing them all.

“Ssssstop iiiit…” The wriggling madam seethed through clenched teeth. She was doing her level best to maintain a look of fury as her lips repeatedly contorted into unwillingly smiles.

Reznor pinched just under Ui’s lowest ribs. “You know, I think you might be even more ticklish than you used to be!”

“Nnhh! Nnnheeno!” A slight giggle escaped the older woman, her expression immediately flipping back to one of almighty irritation.

“Oh! There it is!”

“Stop! Aha! Rrrrstop!”

“Uh ooooh!” Squeezing a little harder, the playful man hunched his shoulders.

“Stopit!” Ui’s voice had taken on a higher than usual pitch, one Emma hadn’t heard before. Probably one the perturbed madam hadn’t made for years. “Gehaha! Get off me! Ehehaha! You halfwit! Ahaha! Neanderthahahl!

“Name calling, Madam?” Reznor dropped his hands down, his great big palms covering almost all of the struggling woman’s sides. “Isn’t that a little beneath you?”

“Aaaahahaha! Nohahaha!” Shooting her knees up to her hefty bosoms, the spasming madam curled into a vibrating ball of laughter. Mouth opened wide, bubbly laughter spilled from within, her eyes shut tight.

Even as the big man clawed at the sides of Ui’s midriff, Emma could see a look of rage and disdain still fighting back against the grin that forced itself upon her face. Though the freckled girl knew the powerlessness and feeling of being trapped when tickled, it was difficult to put herself in the madam’s shoes. From slave to madam to penniless, only to build herself back up as a success. Now, once again the normally intimidating woman was reduced to a giggling little girl, all her determination and stoicism tickled away. Another victim of Jai Lin’s, another victim who was only in this mess because they had faith in Emma’s goal. Another victim of Emma’s incompetence.

While the guilt-stricken redhead recalled the ever growing list of people who suffered in her wake, Reznor was upping his assault. Moving higher across Ui’s thin black top, the burly man’s fingers skated freely into her covered underarms. Which was louder, the madam’s laughter or her varied insults was hard to tell, both sounds echoing down the cabin. Jerking her elbows, the bound woman kicked and twisted, the look on her face suggesting the indignity of her situation was almost as bad as the tickling itself.

“This must be all kinds of terrible for you, huh Madam?” Reznor stepped over the extended footrest and propped one knee up on the seat. “Ui here was the queen bee back in the day, did she tell you?” He glanced back over one shoulder to Emma, his hands still busily dancing around the livid woman’s taut underarms. “Had the rule of the roost, she did. At least until Jai Lin got the better of her!”

“Enoughaeeeihahaha!” Ui tugged madly at the rope, her black socks kicking repeatedly into the giant’s unmoving leg.

“Enough? Is that what you said?”

“Stopahaha! Iwannatalk! Ahahaaa!”

“No, no.” Reznor shook his head. “You can talk to my boss. Me and you, we’re just getting reacquainted, no need for chitchat.”

“My heartahaaha! I needeehaha! Ineedadoctor!” Ui squawked, rolling fitfully from one side to the other and never able to protect either side of herself. “Too muchahahaha! I’ll dieeehahaha!”

“Then I guess you’ll die being tickled!” Sliding his hands down, the strapping soldier switched his approach from relatively gentle prods and strokes to an all out clawing of the madam’s tender ribcage. “Nice try though.”

“Aaaahahaha! Nooohahaha!” Lurching forward as best she could, the busty woman bellowed loudly, her whole body contorting to try and wriggle free of Reznor’s hands.

“What’s next Ui?” Shifting his immense weight forward, the imposing man bought his other knee up onto the seat. Kneeling either side of Ui’s kicking legs, he seemed entirely unfazed about the possibility of a kick to the groin. “First it was money, then you wanted to talk, now it’s a heart problem. I’ve heard it all before. So have you, come to think of it!” Reznor lowered himself to sit just above the spasming woman’s knees, her dainty feet flailing helplessly out behind him as her legs were pinned in place. “The girls at old man Deveno’s used to beg to lick your clit, didn’t they? Before Jai Lin took the top spot, I mean. You gonna offer to suck my cock then, Madam? Or we’re not quite there yet?”

“Ahaha! Neverahaha!”

“Ohh, we both know that ain’t true!” Pinching the bottom of the cackling woman’s shirt at either side, the chipper fellow hiked it up and over her slender midriff. “Seem to recall you offering that and a whole lot more back in Deveno’s dungeon!”

From her slightly obscured angle, Reznor’s hulking frame blocking much of the view, Emma could see glimpses of the older woman’s convulsing tummy. Once the shirt had been rolled up to just under her large bosoms, brutish hands met with tantalizingly soft skin and squeezed callously. Thick fingertips kneaded deep into hardworking muscle, the madam’s abdomen flexing sporadically under the attack. Well defined laugh lines drew across Ui’s reddening cheeks, her stomach tightening as she tried to curl forward, every inch of midriff defenseless against the menacing touch. Whatever teasing deftness Reznor had begun with was all but gone, his ten fingers now clutching harshly at terribly ticklish flesh like an unkempt barbarian.

“And what’s up here, I wonder?” The taunting brute slipped his fingers under the bunched up bottom of Ui’s shirt, his huge hands bulging out under the tight material as they rummaged around her upper ribs. “Like I could ever forget!”

“Getout! Ahahaha!” Ui yelped, her large breasts bouncing under the thin black shirt. “Getoutofthere! Eeeieehahaha!”

Shaking feverishly, the once graceful woman made for quite a different sight than the first time Emma had laid eyes on her. Where the madam’s dark hair normally hung in proper fashion around her shoulders it instead whipped back and forth in chaos. That signature look of cunning intimidation was replaced with wide eyed surprise, only closing tight when Reznor found an exceptionally alarming spot. Ui’s fury remained of course, though it was fair to say much of that greatly offended rage seemed a lot less frightening as she squeaked, squealed and squirmed. Her stretched cheeks quite rosy, it was a bizarre sight to see a woman of such domineering presence undone by a few wiggling fingers. Bizarre and astonishingly hot, Emma thought.

“Oop, hello ladies!” With a flick of his wrists the big man pushed Ui’s shirt up and over her hefty chest, both of her bare naked bosoms jiggling out into the open. “How I’ve missed you!” He beamed a smile ear to ear as all ten fingers frolicked across the undersides of her heavy breasts.

Pursing her lips, Emma’s nostrils flared as she muffled another quiet moan. She might have noticed Ui wasn’t wearing a bra earlier, but there had been a lot going on the last little while. Still it did go a long way to explaining the very obvious stiffness of the older woman’s nipples during their interrogation of poor Hannah Quist. And, evidently it appeared in that moment as Reznor fondled the flustered madam, tickling another person out of their mind wasn’t the only thing that revved her engine. Apparently haunted by the same curse as Emma, Ui’s light brown nipples were swollen rigid, almost certainly a result of the muscular man’s hands crawling across her skin.

“I do love a good pair of big ticklish titties!” Reznor teased, his fingers scribbling around to the sides of Ui’s quaking breasts.

“Eiieehahahstoohop!” A pained expression across her face, the older woman giggled loudly into what must have been the tenth straight minute of tickling.

Instead of doing as commanded, the burly fellow kept one hand pinching around Ui’s bosoms while the other grabbed at the front of her shirt. “How many girls did you torture at Deveno’s fort over the years, do you think? I wonder, all them ticklish young ladies telling you, begging you to stop, how many times did that work?” Reznor tugged the laughing woman’s top up and over her face. “Did you show any of ‘em mercy, even one, just one time?”

Pulling the long sleeve shirt up and over Ui’s elbows, the steely chested man exposed her silky smooth underarms as he rendered her topless. Leaving the loose garment draped over his prisoner’s bound hands, Reznor wasted no time diving his freehand back into the fray. With her entire upperbody now stretched out before him, the brawny soldier raced all ten fingers up and down the struggling madam’s sides, all the way from hips to hellishly ticklish hollows.

“EEIIAHAHA! STAHAHAP! STAHP!” Ui bucked wildly, her tiny feet kicking crazily behind her assailant.

If those first ten minutes had escalated from teasing to cruel, the next ten were unhindered savagery. His boyish teasing on the back burner, Reznor worked the cackling woman over in grinning silence, his large hands squeezing and pinching her hypersensitive skin without pause. With viciously strong grip the giant’s thumbs dug into Ui’s heaving tummy, his fingers drilling just above her hips. Screaming, breathless laughter roared out of the half naked woman as his hands climbed higher, clawing at her ribs and dancing freely around her large bouncing breasts. Incoherent demands for mercy squawked through the madam’s howls, her whole body shaking fiercely when five fingertips raked up and down her unprotected underarms.

Over by the window Emma writhed shamelessly. Or shamefully, she flip-flopped on which. How badly she wanted to reach down between her thighs, how terribly she desired to join Reznor in his devilish torment. What a perverse creature she had become, the buxom redhead thought. Ui was supposed to be her ally in all this yet Emma was all but cheering the enemy on. It occurred to her then, as her panties soaked through for the second time that day, that perhaps Jai Lin had not laid some curse or subtle manipulation on Emma, but instead simply unlocked what was already there.

Thinking back it was difficult for the lustful captive to deny the possibility, at least. Unlikely as it might have been there did exist some compelling evidence that a more twisted side had long lay dormant within the studious girl. When Jason Whitmore had first assaulted Emma she had not told anyone nor worked to avoid him as any sensible person might have done, instead she’d followed him around. When Wendy Starr was tortured at the hands of Mr. Lucas there had been every opportunity to run for help, yet Emma let it happen. Years later when Wendy and Deena were both captured by Jai Lin she’d done nothing to save them. Whenever a path opened up for Emma to do the right thing she almost always seemed to do the opposite, taking whichever way would lead to the most suffering, even if it was her own. Surely she was not that much of a monster, the feverishly horny girl thought as she watched Madam Ui being violated.

“I remember this one girl…” Reznor slowed his hands, only gently creeping his fingers around the edges of the topless woman’s ribs. “Where was she from? France?” He poked Ui a little harder with one finger and she jerked sharply, her entire face shining red as she gasped for air. “Anyway, tiny thing she was. I forget her name. She was eighteen or nineteen, been off seeing the world, traveling as you do. Don’t know how the old man got a hold of her, had his ways I suppose. You know who I’m talking about? Me and the boys hadn’t been at the fort long before she got there.”

“Aha!” Ui snapped, turning quickly as far as she could when the giant pinched just below her bottom rib. Save for the deep breaths the half naked prisoner made few other sounds, her hair a mess and sides pink from Reznor’s unwavering attention. Her furrowed brow said there was some defiance yet left in her, though the tears starting to well in Ui’s eyes suggested otherwise.

“Yeah, you remember.” The burly soldier took his tickle toy’s erect nipples between his thumbs and index fingers, squeezing and rolling each nubbin gently. “Thick accent that girl had, could barely understand her. You didn’t like that though, did you Madam? Always on at Deveno’s girls about speaking English. I wonder, was the old man upset after what you did to her?” Reznor looked back over his shoulder, big grin gleaming at Emma. “Would you like to know what the madam did?”

Of course, the curvy young woman breathed a little heavier, of course she wanted to know. Watching the big man tease Ui’s nipples, Emma wanted to know it all. Every sadistic story and inhumane act, all the tales of innocent girls dragged kicking and screaming into Harold Senior’s fortress of nightmares. What horrors they must have faced, what inescapable evil. Taken from their nice, normal lives to a world where their greatest weakness was exposed and exploited. Surrounded, trapped, held prisoner by people who delighted in making each girl suffer, day in and day out. Tickling them. Tickling and tickling and tickling them. Emma swallowed hard, she never would have survived.

“We had a bit of a rule, back then.” Reznor turned back to Ui, pinching her nipples a little harder and making the older woman wince. “Don’t drive ‘em crazy. We could make ‘em crazy, that was okay, but we couldn’t actually, you know, make the girls snap permanently. You do something to someone too much, too often, it can make a person lose their marbles. Tickling especially.” The big man’s paws dropped a couple of inches and he clawed callously at the half dressed woman’s ribs.

“NAAHAHA!” Ui bucked madly between the cruel mass of muscle and her seat.

Reznor eased up, fluttering his fingertips down to dance around the fitful madam’s sides. “Most of the girls were driven to the brink more than once, weren’t they? But ticklish ol’ Ui here kept tabs on each of them, made sure none of the old man’s harem went completely nuts. Except that little French girl.” As she giggled a single tear rolled down Ui’s cheek, her midriff shifting like a belly-dancer from the soldier’s incessant fondling. “Most girls were a little uppity when they first got to the fort.” Reznor said. “Understandable I ‘spose. They soon fell in line after their first session with Madam Ui though. What do you think, Red?” He looked back to Emma again. “Think you’d have calmed down after a little lesson from the madam?”

Shuddering a breath, the fiery haired girl’s thighs were tense to the point of shaking. She imagined Ui in her heyday, stalking the halls of Harold Senior’s well guarded fort, her footsteps striking terror into the hearts of each nubile young prisoner. Emma wondered how she’d have faired living under those circumstances, never knowing when next Harold or Ui or one of the guards would come and drag her off to some dark room. There, helpless among the shadows, hands grabbing at her, stripping her, debasing her, poking and proding and squeezing. No amount of screaming pleas would stop them. They would drive her to the brink. Emma closed her eyes, dreading and desiring the thought.

“Well that little French number didn’t calm down, no ma’am.” Reznor continued, his hands still busy crawling up and down Ui’s twitching torso. “She got even more mouthy after Ui got done with her, going off in that thick accent of hers, swearing she’d get out and leave Ui buried behind her. ‘Course the madam wasn’t having any of that, were you?” He wiggled the tips of his index fingers into the older woman’s underarms.

“Eeiehaha! Stop it!” Ui yelped, her words sounding somewhere between demanding and defeated.

“So you went at her again, and again.” As the strapping man pinched the sides of his captive’s bouncing bosoms another tear rolled down her other cheek. “Pulled out all the stops. Took her to the dungeon, each time longer and harder, but every time little Frenchie came back up no less sassy than when she went down. A week goes by and this tiny girl is still too wild to offer up to the old man. Ui does the sensible thing and throws this unbreakable creature to me and the boys.” Reznor flashed a sinister smirk back to Emma and she felt a tingle as the deluge between her legs trickled down around the bottom of one ass cheek. “We made her our pet. Kept her in the guard quarters with us, drove her mad, kept tickling her every chance we got. But-“ He held one finger up sharply before quickly returning it to poke at Ui’s tummy. “-We still obeyed the rule. No. Driving. Her. Crazy. My honest opinion? I think she was already crazy. One minute she’d be begging us to stop, promising to behave and the second we’d stop she’d threaten to stab us all. We had to keep her tied up, if she wasn’t constantly trying to escape she was throwing things or scratching people. Hell, she bit Dorner on the arm. Still got the scar, don’t you Dornie?”

“I do indeed.” Came a man’s voice from further up the cabin.

“He’s not the only one either, let me tell ya.” The burly storyteller tapped five fingers around the outer edges of Ui’s belly button, a teasing parade that made her squeal and shake. “Any other girl would’ve broken a hundred times over. Even Sergeant Lucas took a crack at her. He got further than most mind you, she stayed pretty quiet for a few hours after he was done with her. We all thought it was a success, done deal each time, but then she’d go off, cussing at everyone in French again. Never seen anything like it.” Reznor reached back and squeezed the older woman’s knee, her leg vibrating in panic as she screeched. “So that’s it. A couple weeks of failure and Ui had enough. Drags our pet off down to the dungeon and we don’t see either of them for days.”

Days. The word echoed among the numerous lewd thoughts that populated Emma’s mind. Days trapped in a dungeon with Madam Ui. When they’d first met the once fearsome mistress had spoken of the dungeon at Harold’s fort, a place designed without comfort in mind. A deep basement only accessible by winding, narrow stairs where the screams and laughter of unfortunate women would echo from stone walls. Well worn leather straps held quivering bodies immobile as a variety of sadistic tools were applied to hypersensitive skin. Gags and blindfolds and ear muffs, the victims only ever sensing what their tormentor allowed them to. It was cold down there, as Ui told it, but the girls were always sweating too much to notice.

“The next time we saw Frenchie-“ Reznor danced a couple of digits into the nape of his captive’s neck, her reddened cheek immediately pressing hard against her shoulder in response. “Well. She wasn’t speaking French or English or anything else. All that sass was gone, instead there was just this vacant stare, the kind of look I hadn’t seen since my days in the Corps. She’d jump at every little sound, wouldn’t answer to her name, whatever it was. Just a shell of a person.”

“EIIAHAHA!” Ui bellowed when the man straddling her knees suddenly goosed her sides.

“No idea what you did to that girl down there, Madam!” Squeezing with gleeful enthusiasm, the bearded beast kept the cackling woman struggling wildly. “But once our boss is done with you I think I’ll keep you as a pet! What do you think, Ui? I’ll get a nice little cabin far from anywhere, maybe put a collar on you!” Reznor dug harder and the older woman bucked, breathless laughter howling out of her. “Spend our days trying to figure out what you did to that little French lass, eh?”

“STOP! AHAHAHA! STOPSTOOOOP!”

Burying her face into one arm, Ui let out a muffled scream. Shaking her head, the older woman’s voice had taken on a shrill edge. The angry demands she’d been making a short while before were starting to sound a lot more like requests. Certainly Emma knew if it had been she Reznor had chosen to toy with there would have been very little in the way of putting up a brave front. It was almost worse, the squirmy girl thought, to start out trying to maintain confidence. All involved knew the bravado wouldn’t last, and when it inevitably crumbled that was just one more victory for the tormentor. Submissiveness was the best approach, as far as Emma saw it, anyone ticklish enough ended up there eventually anyway.

“Please!” Ui gasped, her eyes taking on a forlorn look as Reznor leaned back and tried to grab blindly at her right sock. “Pleheease!” The fretful woman giggled, her foot wiggling to avoid the big man’s hand. “Please! Eeehee! No-no NO!”

“There it is!” Hooking one finger under the top of the pleading woman’s thin sock, the huge man started sliding it down over the top of Ui’s wriggling foot.

“Reznor! Reznor-Holden! Stop!” A worrisome insistence caused the topless madam’s voice to tremble as the sock was slowly dragged toward her curling toes. “Listen, listen, we-we can talk about this!”

“Oh can we?”

“There-there’s nothing we can’t negotiate!” Ui tried her darndest to grip at the sock with her tiny toes as it was easily peeled free. “I-we have a girl, Cindy Reid! She’s been working undercover for Jai Lin!” She spoke with a desperate haste, a hurried panic that increased as Reznor pinched the tip of her remaining sock. “Spying on Deveno, we can give her to you! She’ll tell you everything!”

“Everything about what?”

“About Jai Lin!” The older woman winced, shaking her head in disbelieving protest as her other sock was gradually pulled along her small foot. “The girl told us everything she knew! She’s very ticklish, very easy to make talk! Your employer will want to talk to her, I promise!”

“I feel like…” Reznor plucked the tiny sock free and tossed it aside, leaving both the madam’s dainty feet out in the open. “That offer will still be good after I tickle your feet for a while.”

“Oh no! Nono, Reznor, NO!” Ui stretched her feet out, toes pointed away from the giant’s back as if to get as far from him as possible. “Please! T-tickle Emma! She’s much more ticklish than me!”

“That true, Red?” The bearded fellow glanced over, shifting his weight back a little more onto the half naked woman’s knees.

Emma hardly knew what to say. She wasn’t about to balk at Ui throwing her under the bus, that came as no surprise. Denying her own ticklishness was pointless and far more likely to invite Reznor over than keep him away. Saying Yes would be admitting to herself something she wasn’t even sure was true yet, and make the burly man pouncing on her a sure thing. Answering No would see Emma fair little better, as that would have much the same result as denial. “I don’t know.” She squeaked sheepishly, the best she could muster with the soldier’s eyes upon her.

“She doesn’t know.” Reznor turned back toward Ui with a careless shrug. “Sucks for you, Ui.” He chuckled and spread his arms wide, making a grand display of slowly reaching back behind himself.

“No! Nono!” Darting her eyes around desperately, the panicked woman looked for anything, any opportunity, any miracle that might save her. As Reznor kept focus on Ui’s face, his fingers searched the air just above her bare feet. “Eeiiehee!” She squealed when one lucky digit grazed the top of a middle toe. From that point of reference it was no trouble for the muscular man to locate the rest of his prisoner’s soles, all ten of his fingertips dancing down on to her wrinkling arches. “AIIIIIEEEHEEHEEIII!” Ui shrieked, her toes spreading wide as she yanked furiously against her bondage.

With the heels of his hands resting atop her toes, Reznor had no need to chase the spasming woman’s feet around no matter how much they tried to escape. Curling his fingers down onto her silky skin, the bear of a man danced his fingertips, stroking up and down from heel to the tender balls of Ui’s feet. Howling at the top of her lungs, the bare foot madam thrashed savagely, her naked breasts bouncing all over. Within seconds the two tears that had previously rolled down her reddened cheeks were joined by a steady stream of salty drops that ran off her chin without end.

Wordless, screaming laughter filled the cabin. Ui bucked wildly, wide-eyes locked in an expression of permanent shock as she cried openly. What little breath she could take in was quickly spent on wailing, no respite from the fingers teasing her painfully sensitive soles. A minute into the ordeal and a shimmer of sweat caught Emma’s eye, a light coating glistening around the tortured woman’s collarbone. It was the kind of thing the curvy redhead may never have noticed once upon a time, now that gleaming flesh looked almost as tantalizing as the tissue-thin skin of Ui’s soles.

Struggling at her own bonds, Emma wriggled, hungry to join in the sadistic fun. If she could just slip free she was certain Reznor wouldn’t mind a little assistance. After all, Ui had been all too happy to offer her young partner up on a platter, the cunning madam could hardly feel betrayed if her treacherous example was followed. The way the older woman screeched was delectable, like every unwanted touch offended her just as much as it tickled. Emma longed to offend her even more.

Tugging at the rope over her head, the freckle faced girl fought in earnest to get loose, evermore heinous daydreams spurring her on. Maybe Reznor wanted Ui all to himself, in which case Emma would be all too happy to get her devious hands on Hannah for a second round. The voluptuous blonde was just sitting there for the taking, it was a wonder none of the other men had wandered down to toy with her. Heck, even if the big man’s singular goal was his own pleasure Emma found she was more than willing to accommodate that too. She’d never much been a fan of blowjobs, yet horny as she was the buxom girl would have gleefully sucked the soldier’s cock dry. Reznor must have been hard as a rock by that point, and in that moment there was little the squirming girl wouldn’t have let him do to her with it.

Despite keeping his eyes on the madam’s contorting expressions of hysterics and suffering, Reznor’s fingers moved as if he could see every inch of her helpless soles. Evidently a well practiced tickler, the big man’s fingers ran blindly around Ui’s heels and along her insteps, a feathery-soft touch driving the older woman berserk. From her tender insteps the merciless man stroked swiftly along the balls of her struggling feet, and each time the cackling woman’s toes would curl sharply. No part of Ui’s soles were left untouched, her tiny toes especially were subjected to a shriek inducing digit-dance that repeated countless times over many long, torturous minutes.

“AAAAEEEIIIGHAHAHAHA!” A prolonged, bellowing scream strained the bound madam’s svelte body when Reznor raked his short fingernails up the entire length of both feet. The muscles in the madam’s arms and stomach tightened and protruded, tendons in her neck stretching from extreme, involuntary effort. As the monster’s fingers danced down and dragged slowly up a second time, Ui’s toes splayed out and she let out another deathly howl.

Before that second screech was done one of the soldier’s hands zipped around between them, his index finger zeroing directly into the bewildered woman’s navel. While one hand continued it’s uninterrupted frolicking across Ui’s feet, the other drilled a single fingertip deep inside her bellybutton. Laughing and squealing loudly, the madam’s abdomen flexed desperately as she tried to wriggle her tummy away. The two-pronged tickle attack seemed to create a new look between the older woman’s varying states of dread and forced hilarity, one of unbridled lunacy. Lost to her horrid fate, the once stern and imposing madam hardly looked like she had any fight left in her, or a single coherent thought.

“You were saying something about a girl?” Reznor halted, leaving Ui gasping rapidly. “Cindy something?” The severely disheveled woman didn’t reply, or more likely couldn’t. Steamy beads of sweat trickled down her neck and breasts, her pinkened stomach glossy with a slick sheen. “No? Nothing? Should I tickle your feet again?”

“N…no…” Ui cried between breaths, her hefty bosom rising and falling. “Pl-please…”

“Pl-pl-pl!” The burly man mocked his exhausted captive. “Alright then.” He set his large hands on the arms of the seat and pushed back, his huge frame shifting off the cushion. Planting one heavy boot on the floor, the lumbering beast stood upright. “You can tell me later.”

Without the slightest hint of care Reznor leaned forward and grabbed either side of Ui’s waistband. With a fistful of the wincing woman’s leggings he tore downward, slipping both pants and panties over her shapely ass and thighs in one go. Though she whined and squirmed even at her most willful there would have been nothing the humiliated madam could have done as she was stripped bare. Tugging the last two items of Ui’s clothing free, Reznor tossed them back across the aisle and left her as nude as the poor blonde just across from her.

Emma gulped a little louder than she’d intended. Ui made some weakened attempt to cross her legs but there was no mistaking the wet patch of short black fuzz between her thick thighs. Utterly naked and tickled well beyond the point any sane person could handle, the apparently very aroused prisoner started to bring her legs upward. Before she could make one last sorrowful attempt at protecting herself, Reznor leaned down again and clutched forcefully at Ui’s hips.

“Ah!” The helpless woman flinched, shuffling her legs uselessly as she was rolled over onto her stomach. Tumbling into an awkward position with her face smooshed into the seat cushion, Ui continued her pitiful writhing against the big man’s rough handling of her.

Planting one of his great big hands against the back of the madam’s head, Reznor held her in place while his other hand reached down to tap a small button on the inside arm of the chair. Swift and smooth the backrest moved downward, reclining to a far less dramatic angle. Now laying almost flat on her face, Ui’s legs slipped back across the footrest, her well-toned butt cheeks protruding into the air.

“Holden –NO!” The exhausted woman wheezed like she knew what the hulking soldier was going to do before he did it.

Bringing one leg up, Reznor straddled the armrest as he pressed his knee firmly down against the trapped woman’s tailbone. Holding Ui firmly in place despite her ongoing struggles, the muscular man now had both hands free to grab at the bottom of his shirt and pull it up over his head. Unsurprisingly the sinewy man’s upperbody was a chiseled smorgasbord of well-defined physique, steely abs and rippling pecks all moving in hypnotic motion. Sending the shirt the way of the trapped madam’s clothes, Reznor’s biceps bulged as he quickly unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants and unzipped the fly. Hooking his thumbs under the waistband, he gave a quick shuffle of the hips which sent both pants and boxers dropping down to his knees.

Apparently he was part horse, as Emma felt a sharp pang of lust seeing the soldier’s enormous, hard cock. Reznor’s swollen member throbbed, the sheer girth of it causing the fiery haired voyeur to fear for Madam Ui’s womanhood, let alone her own sopping wet pussy should his target change. Perversely that striking sense of intimidation caused Emma’s arousal to skirt the edge of orgasm, her panties absolutely drenched as she tried to wrangle some small measure of restraint. Restraint be damned, the wicked side of her thought as she rode the precipice of carnal bliss, she couldn’t have pried her eyes from the sadistic man’s slick purple cockhead if she tried.

“N-n-n-nonono!” Ui wriggled as Reznor’s knee slid down beside her and his other leg came up onto the seat. Straddling the backs of the older woman’s thighs, he settled forward, his pulsating shaft resting comfortably between her curvaceous butt cheeks. “Don’t do it! Don’t do it!” She whined hoarsely as her tormentor began a slow thrust, his gleaming cockhead slipping back and forth over her tailbone. “Agh! Aggh-stopit!”

“Oh come on, Ui…” The strapping nude man reached forward with two hooked index fingers and wiggled them up toward the pinned madam’s stretched underarms. “Don’t make me do ALL the work!”

“NAAAHO! AHEEHEEHEEII!” A sharp spasm struck the bound woman’s body, her legs kicking madly as her upperbody rocked violently from one side to the other.

Bucking furiously as she was, Ui’s panicked movements were unwittingly making her ass cheeks massage the big man’s thick shaft. Seeing all that hard muscle overpowering supple, sensitive flesh sent Emma reeling. The young journalist twisted and moaned, her legs writhing as she felt the urge to explode at any moment. She imagined Reznor’s massive cock between her own shapely cheeks and clenched at the thought, knowing his hands would be busy making her scream just as they were doing to Ui.

From her vulnerable hollows the soldier’s rough fingertips scribbled down, squeezing and digging mercilessly at the madam’s heaving ribs. Facedown and arms up, body stretched between rope and the Herculean giant atop her, Ui’s sides were entirely unprotected from hips on up. The tops of her upturned feet slapped repeatedly into the footrest, cackling laughter roaring throughout the airplane cabin. When Reznor’s hands poked downward into the squished sides of his prisoner’s large bosoms she slammed her forehead up and down like a patient in some asylum, only stopping to howl when he clawed viciously at the sides of her tummy a solid thirty seconds later.

Though Ui made a valiant effort to press herself flat into the seat it was wasted energy as the big man’s hands slid underneath her. What Reznor’s fingers were doing between the cushion and the nude woman’s abdomen couldn’t be seen, but based off her frenzied thrashing and mindless laughter whatever it was tickled like mad. The mystery of it teased Emma’s psyche as she was both dying to know and dreading what those skillful fingertips must have felt like. As much as anything else before her eyes the dread turned her on immensely. For the first time in the young redhead’s life she felt as though there may be no need for physical stimulation as a thunderous climax was threatening to unleash regardless.

“Now would you look at this, Red?” Reznor’s voice had taken on a little more growl as he stroked his hands firmly around the helpless madam’s hips and began dancing all ten digits around her plump butt cheeks. “She really hates it!”

“Eieeeeheehee!” Ui shuddered, giggling wordlessly as her behind was tormented, the flexing and bouncing of her ass continuing to rub the giant’s thick cock.

“Can’t do anything though, can you?” The Herculean man gave the older woman a sharp slap across her butt right cheek.

“Yie!” Her head sprung up as she yelped, falling immediately back into girlish squealing as Reznor’s continued dancing five fingers merrily across her other cheek.

“Just gotta take it.!”

“Neeeiiyeehee! Aaaaheeheehe! YEI!” Ui cried out again when her left cheek was spanked, the right now receiving a five finger tickle attack.

“Take it, Ui!” Reznor switched sides again, smacking the palm of his hand flat across the right side of the madam’s curvaceous ass while the left received a flurry of far softer fingertips.

By the second crack across her left cheek, Emma noticed the wallowing woman’s derrière had turned a most-tender shade of pink. Each time Reznor would spank the madam across one cheek while his other hand tickled directly across the stinging skin that had just been smacked on the other side. Every loud slap sent a shockwave across Ui’s well toned cheeks, her yowls of protest sounding more and more distressed with each strike. Despite what was surely a not-insignificant burning sensation across her backside, the cruelly toyed with woman couldn’t help but descended into insuppressible giggle fits whenever she wasn’t bellowing in pain.

“Ui will take anything, won’t you girl?” Squeezing the madam’s quite tenderized cheeks between his fingers made her whine uncomfortably as Reznor slid himself backward. With a little push into Ui’s ass and a little thrust of his hips, the enormous fellow let his throbbing wet cockhead slip back between her cheeks and down along her taint.

“Ahn-nn!” Shuffling her hips weakly, the older woman jerked and moaned as the soldier’s slick cock stroked between her slippery labia. “N-no!”

“Come on…” Reznor shifted his hands down and grabbed forcefully at her hips, his muscular ass cheeks flexing as he pushed his own hips forward.

“Nono!” Ui’s voice was hoarse as her bound hands reached into thin air, her fingers working to grab at anything they could. “D-d-don’t!” She strained to look back over one shoulder, her face a red mess of tears, stuck strands of hair and an expression of complete defeat.

“Your choice, Madam.” With a low grunt the brutish man slowly pushed himself inside her, his hard cock parting her soaked pussy lips. “We can do it this way….or I can go back to tickling you for the rest of the flight.”

“Ah!” Ui gasped, her fingers curling to fists as the rest of her trembled. “Ah…oh…godah!”

Watching the quivering madam clench her teeth as Reznor pushed further inside, Emma nearly came. Puffing her cheeks out the overly lustful girl had to purse her lips tight, fighting back the overbearing urge to lose all control. It wasn’t enough that the sadistic soldier had tickled Ui all over and then some, nor had his cruelty reached it’s peak when he’d spanked her ass repeatedly. Now, driving his rock hard cock inside her, the relentless tormentor moved deliberately, awfully slow. Holding her hips in place, Reznor was able to make sure the desperate madam had no control as he gradually guided his pulsing shaft deeper and deeper inside her.

“What’s it going to be, Madam?” The bearded beast gave a sudden sharp thrust forward.

“AHH!” Ui’s much smaller body bounced, her mouth opening wide as she moaned.

“This?” He drove into her a second time.

“AWWWH!”

“Or this?” Reznor jabbed the tips of his index fingers directly into Ui’s sides.

“AHEEEHEE!” She squealed, throwing herself in a manic, rolling display. “NOTTHAT! EEEIHEEHEE! NOTTHAHAHAT!”

“This then?” He spread his fingers out into large claws and began squeezing up and down the entire length of the hectic woman’s torso.

“AAHAHAHA! PLEEEHEEEAASE! AHAH!”

One seat over and on the opposite side, Emma was fighting back her orgasm harder than ever. Had she really stopped to think about it the damage was done, there was no stopping it now. All the buxom journalist could do was ride the edge of her climax, a task that grew exponentially more difficult with every passing second. Seeing Ui’s wild struggles as she shrieked with laughter, all the while Reznor’s huge cock grinded inside her, it was a hellishly heavenly sight. A few moments in and the hulking solider began thrusting back and forth, his huge frame rocking the cackling older woman’s tiny body off the seat cushion. Between her shrill screams of ticklish mayhem, the madam moaned so loudly it sounded as if she may never be able to talk again afterward.

Reznor fucked unlike any man Emma had ever known. Of the few men she’d been with in her time they were all varying degrees of gentle, caring and kind. They were the type of geeky, well-mannered boys a freckle faced bookworm grew up expecting to date. Young gentlemen who never did anything without permission and always apologized when they accidentally tickled her. Reznor was not at all the type Emma would have invited into her bedroom, but seeing him now in action had her thinking twice. All strength and barbaric force, if he cared at all about how Ui felt it was only in service of his own pleasure. He thrust into the petit woman with unrelenting power, his cock pile driving her unprepared body without remorse. As the great mass of muscle grabbed and clawed and pinched at her, the madam howled, her gyrating ass cheeks flexing hard when she screamed into an earth shattering orgasm.

A sudden shock of tingles spread out through Emma’s inner thighs, she couldn’t resist a second longer. Joining Ui in orgasmic splendor, the young woman pressed her wide open lips against the inside of her bicep, muffling her unruly moans. Writhing in place, the redhead’s thick thighs rubbed together lewdly, her panties drenching as she squirted messily inside them. Furrowing her brow Emma bit the skin of her arm, shuddering through wave after wave of warm bliss that washed across her, all the while never once taking her eyes of Reznor and Madam Ui.

It was difficult to tell exactly what state the older woman was in as she continued to moan, screech and gasp. While Emma writhed through her continuing climax, she wondered if Ui hadn’t been spurred on into a second orgasm. Whatever the madam’s stage of exhaustive torture she was in, Reznor clearly paid it little mind. Leaning back slightly the big man reached down with one hand and hooked his fingers underneath his victim’s left shin. Scooping up her lower leg, the burly soldier slid his large paw up to her ankle and bent the sweat soaked woman’s leg back until her bare foot was right beside his hip. Holding Ui’s ankle firmly in place as he continued to thrust inside her, Reznor reached across himself with his free hand and spidered five fingers fiendishly across her wrinkled sole.

“AAAHAHAHAHA!” Ui wailed, her trapped leg shaking uselessly to pull away as her free foot flailed, unable to do anything about it’s tickled friend.

Emma barely blinked, staring wide eyed as the naked madam bucked beneath her tormentor. Ui’s tiny toes curled and spread, her ankle strained like a loaded spring, wanting to fly away fast yet going nowhere. Reznor’s fingertips stroked gleefully across her arch, around the hypersensitive balls of the madam’s foot and tap danced across her toes, all the while fucking her into oblivion. Primal growls grew louder from the muscular man, his normally playful expression fixed to one of stern determination. Suddenly the well defined muscles across his abdomen tightened, he thrust harder still, his five fingers speeding up to a blur as they ran wild around Ui’s sole.

In a flash the big man’s free hand whipped across and grabbed Ui’s right shoulder. He pulled the tiny madam into him, pounding his hips forward as his neck curled downward and his mouth opened into a roaring O-shape. With a sharp pull backward, Reznor’s huge glistening cock slid out from the conquered madam’s sopping pussy and he slapped his hefty shaft down between her butt cheeks. Dropping her foot, the huge man took a firm hold of Ui’s left hip as the first thick load of hot cum burst across her back. Pump after pitiless pump splattered over her sweat soaked skin, painting the writhing woman from neck to the curve of her lower back.

Emma let out a shuddering breath as Reznor groaned. Madam Ui slumped in place, face down and shaking, her panting short and hasty. A self-satisfied smirk slowly grew across the bearded man’s lips, one corner of his mouth perking up as he shuffled back off the reclined seat and the cum-covered madam. Standing upright, the huge man pulled his pants back into position, lazily zipping his fly and buttoning them shut. Leaving his belt dangling loose he turned toward the blushing redhead with a gradual, lumbering movement.

“Give me a few minutes, Red-” The shirtless giant grinned, his lethargy already being replaced by that bullish boisterousness. “-And I’ll be good to go again.”

Before Emma could decided if it was terror or desire she felt more, another man appeared in the aisle way. “No can do.” A strong jawed man with dark hair said. “Boss says we’re to keep it hands off for the rest of the trip.”

“Are you kiddin’ me?” Reznor’s eyebrows shot up and he motioned one of his huge hands toward the curly haired girl bound behind him. “Look at her, will ya? She’s practically gagging for it!”

“You had your fun.”

“Come on man.” The bear of a man frowned. “We could take her together…?”

“No, Rez.” The dark haired man turned back toward the front of the cabin. “Boss’ orders.”

“Ah well.” Reznor shrugged and looked back to Emma. “Next time, eh?”

As the beastly fellow turned and followed on after his associate, Emma sat with the wet warmth between her thighs and an almighty sense of relief. She wouldn’t be tickled or turned into a disastrous, quivering mess of sweat, tears and cum like poor Madam Ui. Given the events of the day the captive redhead had already climaxed at least twice, there was no telling if she could have handled any more excitement. Although, despite her relief, a tiny part of Emma was disappointed that she wouldn’t find out.

Chapter Eleven: Rocha​

Izan stood upon the crest of a small hill. Either side of him it’s grassy peak stretched far, a manmade divider between the roaring highway down behind him and the bustling airport that sprawled out ahead. There were signs beside the highway, warnings to not trespass upon the hill. He’d parked his motorbike next to one of the signs. Izan had never much feared the law, American or otherwise.

A small plane screeched upon the runway far to the observant young man’s left. He watched as the sleek aircraft found it’s footing, gliding a few feet off the runway and back down, it’s tires squeaking with each new touch. A Gulfstream, if he wasn’t mistaken. Izan was rarely mistaken. As the plane drew closer, slowing quickly, he could see could it had seating for around eighteen passengers. He glanced far to the right where a black van and a familiar limousine were waiting at the far end of the runway. In the distance tower lights blinked, small baggage cars and trucks zipped around underneath and high above the silhouettes of much larger planes climbed toward the clouds. By comparison this end of the airport was practically deserted.

Keeping his eyes keenly fixed on the plane, Izan took hold of the binoculars around his neck and bought them up for a closer look. No one had exited the vehicles yet, even as the plane began to taxi steadily toward them. Holding the binoculars in place, the trespassing voyeur reached into his pants pocket with his other hand and removed the phone he’d been given. Without needing to see the screen, Izan tapped at the menu and hit the only contact listed. As the line began to ring he pressed the phone to his ear and kept watching. He’d always been good at watching.

Izan had watched his whole life in one way or another. It was curiosity for the most part, especially when he was small. How people moved, how they acted, it was perplexing to no end. Still was in many ways. The only time other people made much sense to Izan was when everything they did was under his control. Like a skilled musician with an instrument, the tune precise and well practiced, not a note out of place. Playing other people and making them sing, just as the soldiers had done to his mother and sister.

While the unanswered call continued to trill in his ear Izan thought back to that time. He recalled the long days beneath the floorboards after the Marines came, hidden with the other children while the women were made to sing. He listened to their screams and their pleas, peeking through tiny cracks to watch how the men made them suffer. When the soldiers finally left they were hated by everyone in the village, everyone except Izan. Instead of fear or hatred the only thing he felt toward those men and their cruelty was gratitude for lessons well learned. Lessons he had since put into practice many a time.

“Well?” The call was finally answered, Harry Deveno’s irritable tone on the other end.

“They’re meeting someone at the airport.” Izan focused the binoculars as the now idle plane opened it’s door, stairs dropping to the tarmac. In the same moment the driver’s side door of the black van opened. He recognized the driver, a stern faced fellow with a buzz-cut.

“Anyone we know?”

“No one new yet.”

From the steps of the plane came more men Izan recognized, each one clad in black, each one moving with the gait of well trained military. One man stopped at the bottom of the stairs while a bigger fellow with a bushy beard lumbered toward the back of the van. As the bearded one opened the van doors a fourth man came out of the cabin, a naked woman stumbling slightly in front of him. She was bound with wrists behind her back and a black sack over her head, the man behind her holding her shoulders to guide her down the steps.

“They have prisoners.” Izan said as two more handcuffed women were lead out of the plane. “Their faces are covered. Two of them have no clothes.”

“No way to tell who they are?” Deveno’s voice had softened a little, almost to the point of sounding amused.

“Not from here.”

“You’ll follow them then?”

“Up to you.” Peering over top of the binoculars, the expressionless young man watched as tiny figures in the distance loaded other tiny figures into the back of their van.

“What if they go to separate locations?”

Izan looked back through the binoculars. As the van doors were shut behind the captive trio of women he noticed the van driver approach the limousine. A tinted window rolled down and there the driver exchanged unheard words with his employer. Izan put the binoculars back to hang at his chest. “Wherever they’re going they’ll go together.”

“You’re certain?”

“Sir, she made a point of coming here to oversee things in person. I have no doubt Mrs. Deveno won’t be letting them out of her sight.”

To Be Continued​
 
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