ticklefanatic15
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Welcome to the third Ashley Grable story! Earlier installments:
The Janitor's Closet: Introducing Ashley Grable (M/f, sexual, noncon)
The Right Response: an Ashley Grable Story (MM/f, noncon, sexual)
Dreams were funny things. You’d find yourself in places you hadn’t been in years, meeting people you haven’t seen in the longest time, doing things you wouldn’t ever do, and yet it all made perfect sense. In Ashley Grable’s dream, she was back on her college green. She was wearing a skirt, button-down blouse, and heels, like she would wear to work. And she was letting her college boyfriend, Mark, tickle her.
“Hee hee hee-eep!” She had her hands atop her head, and was squirming and laughing while he stroked up and down her sides. Sometimes he’d claw at her ribs, and she’d nearly pull her arms down. Other times he’d poke at her belly and she’d squeak and pull away from him. People wandered past, looking with interest as the short curvy blonde giggled and wriggled, but she paid them no mind.
In a flash, it all changed. Mark was behind her now, his hands digging in hard and jabbing into her pits. Passersby leered with her coworkers’ faces, some raising their hands and moving towards her.
“YEEHEEEK!” With a shriek, Ashley began to run, Mark’s fingers racing along the backs of her pumping thighs and pinching at her bouncing buttocks. She turned a corner, and her workplace was there, sitting in the middle of campus as if it belonged there. She raced under the “Intrigue Incorporated” sign and slammed the door on her boyfriend’s hand. As he reeled back in pain, he turned into Woodrow Pedley, smirking down through the door at the blue-eyed beauty’s bust. Following his gaze, she realized she was naked. She locked the door and began to run again. She left the lobby and found herself in a hallway lined with offices. As she dashed past, the doors swung open, coworkers and police officers piling out and grabbing at the bolting blonde, their hands failing to close on her limbs or stop her movement but still squeezing her sides and hips and working fingers into her pits and the backs of her knees.
“Leheeheave mehee alohohone!” she shouted at them through her helpless laughter. She kept running, making turn after turn, the halls a labrynthine mass of beige offices filled with grasping, squirming hands and leering faces. There were cameras at every corner, and as she ran, they began to change. Where before there was only cold glass, they now bore the face of Richard, the company security guard, grinning widely and ogling the nude blonde as she hurried past. Suddenly, a hand caught her ankle, and she tumbled to the ground.
“NO GET AHAHAHAA!” she wailed as fingers scrabbled across her upturned foot, more hands grabbed her wrists and other ankle, and suddenly fingers were everywhere, running across her sides and thighs, pinching her ass cheeks and the bulging sides of her breasts, pushing between her ribs, into her pits, up inside her ass and pussy. A cold voice cut through the sound of her screaming laughter:
“Ms. Grable, you’re under arrest.” Her hands were cuffed behind her back, and the crowd lifted their laughing captive, squeezing and poking every inch of pale, ticklish flesh, bearing her through the halls with her thick legs still spread lewdly. Her breasts were squeezed and fondled by too many hands to even bounce, and fluid poured from her pussy as she was vigorously finger-fucked, leaving a thick wet trail on the tile floor behind her. They carried her towards a familiar door, the door to the janitor’s closet, and when it opened, what she saw inside horrified her even more than her own predicament.
Her best friend Sibyl was tied spread-eagle to a table, being tickled ferociously by Woodrow Pedley and Officers Owens and Wilson. Laughter poured from the helpless brunette’s lips, and her face contorted in a scream of pain and indignation like Ashley had never seen. Then, suddenly, Ashley herself was on the table, her own limbs tied to the corners and her own flesh suffering under the devious tormentor’s thorough ministrations, Sibyl nowhere to be seen. The crowd stood at the doorway, staring hungrily at her tortured frame, and the upper walls of the room were lined with cameras, all bearing Richard’s leering face. Pedley began to undress, and Sibyl stepped out of the crowd, a pair of feathers in her hands.
“Sib-eek! Sibyl? Whahahat are youhoo dohooing?” Ashley forced out fearfully, the officers’ fingers still prodding at her midriff and thighs from both sides. The tall brunette only smiled and strolled around to the head of the table, mounting it and kneeling by Ashley’s head at the same time that the now-naked Pedley climbed up between the fearful captive’s wide-open legs. The feathers touched down on Ashley’s defenseless pits at the same moment as Pedley thrust into her vagina.
“GAAHAAHANOOHOHO!” Ashley screamed in fear and anger as her torment crescendoed, unwanted laughter mingling with feelings of shame and violation. The feathers stroked around the edges of her underarms, darted across the centers, traced figure-eights from top to bottom. Pedley squeezed her hips as he pounded away, his thick shaft completely filling her vagina with every plunge. She got no pleasure from him, nothing to distract her from the feathers and brushes and fingers swirling around her torso, here lightly stroking, there firmly pressing in, occassionally pinching her soft sides or bouncing bosom. Were she awake, she might have passed out under the torture, but as she was dreaming it continued long past her limit. Eventually, Pedley’s cock swelled. It spat an endless stream of cum into her. The stream continued, spilled out of her, spread in a puddle until it began to pour off the table, flooding the room and the halls, rising until Ashley was completely submerged in it...
Ashley woke with a scream, sitting bolt upright on her couch. Her pale, freckled skin was soaked with sweat and her breasts heaved as she panted in fear. Looking down at her nude body, she remembered the tickle attack that had resulted in her falling asleep naked on her couch. Fury began to replace her fear as she thought back to the two officers who had showed up, pretended they were going to help her deal with Woodrow Pedley, and instead tortured her into agreeing not to press any charges against the monstrous janitor. A shudder racked her frame as she recalled being pulled into her own shower and tormented until her bladder had emptied, piss soaking her panties and pajama bottoms. Another shudder followed at the remembrance of being stripped and forcibly washed, then driven to one orgasm after another, and tickled, always tickled, throughout the entire horrific ordeal.
She forced herself to breathe deep, in and out, in and out… opening her blue eyes, she rose from the couch in determination. Pedley and his croneys were awful, but she’d worked hard to get where she was. She had friends at the company and a life in this town, and she refused to let some gang of creeps ruin things for her. Without even bothering to get dressed, the blonde beauty strode to the corkboard on her living room wall, pulling down the affirmations and job notes she’d had pinned to it, and readied a pen and a stack of notecards.
She started by pinning three cards at the top of the board: ‘Friends and Resources’, ‘Enemies and Obstacles’, and ‘Unknowns.’ In the first column, she immediately put a card reading ‘Sybil.’ In the second, ‘Pedley,’ ‘Officer Wilson,’ and ‘Officer Owens.’ Under ‘Unknowns,’ ‘911 operators,’ ‘the police force in general’ and ‘other coworkers.’ She stepped back, tapping the back of the pen against her full pink lips thoughtfully. She took a card, wrote ‘Mr. Hunter’ on it, and hesitated. Thinking back to the picnic, it was possible he had set her up, but that didn’t fit with what she knew of him. In the year she’d been at the company, he had never once looked at the buxom beauty with anything but unwavering professionalism, and consistently showed genuine care and concern for his employees. She hoped he would support her if she told him what had happened with Pedley, but the janitor was a company employee too, and had been there longer than Ashley. Eventually, the blue-eyed blonde put her boss under ‘Friends and Resources,’ telling herself she’d be circumspect in how she got his support, just in case.
Looking at the three columns, Ashley nodded and began forming a plan. The small, naked blonde refrained from writing it down; Pedley’s cronies had already been in her apartment once, she couldn’t trust they wouldn’t get in again. Her first step would be to convince Pedley that she had given up and gone back to normal; that meant going in to work like usual. It followed that she would need to find out where the rest of the office stood; if they already thought Pedley was a creep, they’d be easy to convince of his guilt. She’d have to be careful about it, in case any of them were friends of his; perhaps she could nudge the usual office gossip in the right direction and see what happened. While she hoped that he didn’t have any other victims, other women he’d tickled would be natural allies against him, and even if there were none every ally she could get would be helpful.
Next she would need some way to investigate the police force; it was possible she had simply had the bad luck of getting the only two officers Pedley was working with, but she had no way of knowing how far-reaching his connections were. It was, the blue-eyed beauty presumed, safe to conclude he wouldn’t have much outside the company and the police force; a janitor could only reach so high, socially, and one of the officers was an old high-school friend of Pedley’s anyway. If she could get to the police chief directly, she thought, she could bring Pedley down – especially if she could find other people willing to testify against him.
Ashley took a deep breath, her bare breasts slowly rising and falling with the motion. A relieved smile spread across her face. This was doable. She could still win this.
To Be Continued...
Part 2
The Janitor's Closet: Introducing Ashley Grable (M/f, sexual, noncon)
The Right Response: an Ashley Grable Story (MM/f, noncon, sexual)
Dreams were funny things. You’d find yourself in places you hadn’t been in years, meeting people you haven’t seen in the longest time, doing things you wouldn’t ever do, and yet it all made perfect sense. In Ashley Grable’s dream, she was back on her college green. She was wearing a skirt, button-down blouse, and heels, like she would wear to work. And she was letting her college boyfriend, Mark, tickle her.
“Hee hee hee-eep!” She had her hands atop her head, and was squirming and laughing while he stroked up and down her sides. Sometimes he’d claw at her ribs, and she’d nearly pull her arms down. Other times he’d poke at her belly and she’d squeak and pull away from him. People wandered past, looking with interest as the short curvy blonde giggled and wriggled, but she paid them no mind.
In a flash, it all changed. Mark was behind her now, his hands digging in hard and jabbing into her pits. Passersby leered with her coworkers’ faces, some raising their hands and moving towards her.
“YEEHEEEK!” With a shriek, Ashley began to run, Mark’s fingers racing along the backs of her pumping thighs and pinching at her bouncing buttocks. She turned a corner, and her workplace was there, sitting in the middle of campus as if it belonged there. She raced under the “Intrigue Incorporated” sign and slammed the door on her boyfriend’s hand. As he reeled back in pain, he turned into Woodrow Pedley, smirking down through the door at the blue-eyed beauty’s bust. Following his gaze, she realized she was naked. She locked the door and began to run again. She left the lobby and found herself in a hallway lined with offices. As she dashed past, the doors swung open, coworkers and police officers piling out and grabbing at the bolting blonde, their hands failing to close on her limbs or stop her movement but still squeezing her sides and hips and working fingers into her pits and the backs of her knees.
“Leheeheave mehee alohohone!” she shouted at them through her helpless laughter. She kept running, making turn after turn, the halls a labrynthine mass of beige offices filled with grasping, squirming hands and leering faces. There were cameras at every corner, and as she ran, they began to change. Where before there was only cold glass, they now bore the face of Richard, the company security guard, grinning widely and ogling the nude blonde as she hurried past. Suddenly, a hand caught her ankle, and she tumbled to the ground.
“NO GET AHAHAHAA!” she wailed as fingers scrabbled across her upturned foot, more hands grabbed her wrists and other ankle, and suddenly fingers were everywhere, running across her sides and thighs, pinching her ass cheeks and the bulging sides of her breasts, pushing between her ribs, into her pits, up inside her ass and pussy. A cold voice cut through the sound of her screaming laughter:
“Ms. Grable, you’re under arrest.” Her hands were cuffed behind her back, and the crowd lifted their laughing captive, squeezing and poking every inch of pale, ticklish flesh, bearing her through the halls with her thick legs still spread lewdly. Her breasts were squeezed and fondled by too many hands to even bounce, and fluid poured from her pussy as she was vigorously finger-fucked, leaving a thick wet trail on the tile floor behind her. They carried her towards a familiar door, the door to the janitor’s closet, and when it opened, what she saw inside horrified her even more than her own predicament.
Her best friend Sibyl was tied spread-eagle to a table, being tickled ferociously by Woodrow Pedley and Officers Owens and Wilson. Laughter poured from the helpless brunette’s lips, and her face contorted in a scream of pain and indignation like Ashley had never seen. Then, suddenly, Ashley herself was on the table, her own limbs tied to the corners and her own flesh suffering under the devious tormentor’s thorough ministrations, Sibyl nowhere to be seen. The crowd stood at the doorway, staring hungrily at her tortured frame, and the upper walls of the room were lined with cameras, all bearing Richard’s leering face. Pedley began to undress, and Sibyl stepped out of the crowd, a pair of feathers in her hands.
“Sib-eek! Sibyl? Whahahat are youhoo dohooing?” Ashley forced out fearfully, the officers’ fingers still prodding at her midriff and thighs from both sides. The tall brunette only smiled and strolled around to the head of the table, mounting it and kneeling by Ashley’s head at the same time that the now-naked Pedley climbed up between the fearful captive’s wide-open legs. The feathers touched down on Ashley’s defenseless pits at the same moment as Pedley thrust into her vagina.
“GAAHAAHANOOHOHO!” Ashley screamed in fear and anger as her torment crescendoed, unwanted laughter mingling with feelings of shame and violation. The feathers stroked around the edges of her underarms, darted across the centers, traced figure-eights from top to bottom. Pedley squeezed her hips as he pounded away, his thick shaft completely filling her vagina with every plunge. She got no pleasure from him, nothing to distract her from the feathers and brushes and fingers swirling around her torso, here lightly stroking, there firmly pressing in, occassionally pinching her soft sides or bouncing bosom. Were she awake, she might have passed out under the torture, but as she was dreaming it continued long past her limit. Eventually, Pedley’s cock swelled. It spat an endless stream of cum into her. The stream continued, spilled out of her, spread in a puddle until it began to pour off the table, flooding the room and the halls, rising until Ashley was completely submerged in it...
Ashley woke with a scream, sitting bolt upright on her couch. Her pale, freckled skin was soaked with sweat and her breasts heaved as she panted in fear. Looking down at her nude body, she remembered the tickle attack that had resulted in her falling asleep naked on her couch. Fury began to replace her fear as she thought back to the two officers who had showed up, pretended they were going to help her deal with Woodrow Pedley, and instead tortured her into agreeing not to press any charges against the monstrous janitor. A shudder racked her frame as she recalled being pulled into her own shower and tormented until her bladder had emptied, piss soaking her panties and pajama bottoms. Another shudder followed at the remembrance of being stripped and forcibly washed, then driven to one orgasm after another, and tickled, always tickled, throughout the entire horrific ordeal.
She forced herself to breathe deep, in and out, in and out… opening her blue eyes, she rose from the couch in determination. Pedley and his croneys were awful, but she’d worked hard to get where she was. She had friends at the company and a life in this town, and she refused to let some gang of creeps ruin things for her. Without even bothering to get dressed, the blonde beauty strode to the corkboard on her living room wall, pulling down the affirmations and job notes she’d had pinned to it, and readied a pen and a stack of notecards.
She started by pinning three cards at the top of the board: ‘Friends and Resources’, ‘Enemies and Obstacles’, and ‘Unknowns.’ In the first column, she immediately put a card reading ‘Sybil.’ In the second, ‘Pedley,’ ‘Officer Wilson,’ and ‘Officer Owens.’ Under ‘Unknowns,’ ‘911 operators,’ ‘the police force in general’ and ‘other coworkers.’ She stepped back, tapping the back of the pen against her full pink lips thoughtfully. She took a card, wrote ‘Mr. Hunter’ on it, and hesitated. Thinking back to the picnic, it was possible he had set her up, but that didn’t fit with what she knew of him. In the year she’d been at the company, he had never once looked at the buxom beauty with anything but unwavering professionalism, and consistently showed genuine care and concern for his employees. She hoped he would support her if she told him what had happened with Pedley, but the janitor was a company employee too, and had been there longer than Ashley. Eventually, the blue-eyed blonde put her boss under ‘Friends and Resources,’ telling herself she’d be circumspect in how she got his support, just in case.
Looking at the three columns, Ashley nodded and began forming a plan. The small, naked blonde refrained from writing it down; Pedley’s cronies had already been in her apartment once, she couldn’t trust they wouldn’t get in again. Her first step would be to convince Pedley that she had given up and gone back to normal; that meant going in to work like usual. It followed that she would need to find out where the rest of the office stood; if they already thought Pedley was a creep, they’d be easy to convince of his guilt. She’d have to be careful about it, in case any of them were friends of his; perhaps she could nudge the usual office gossip in the right direction and see what happened. While she hoped that he didn’t have any other victims, other women he’d tickled would be natural allies against him, and even if there were none every ally she could get would be helpful.
Next she would need some way to investigate the police force; it was possible she had simply had the bad luck of getting the only two officers Pedley was working with, but she had no way of knowing how far-reaching his connections were. It was, the blue-eyed beauty presumed, safe to conclude he wouldn’t have much outside the company and the police force; a janitor could only reach so high, socially, and one of the officers was an old high-school friend of Pedley’s anyway. If she could get to the police chief directly, she thought, she could bring Pedley down – especially if she could find other people willing to testify against him.
Ashley took a deep breath, her bare breasts slowly rising and falling with the motion. A relieved smile spread across her face. This was doable. She could still win this.
To Be Continued...
Part 2
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