InkQuillWrites
Registered User
- Joined
- Apr 23, 2023
- Messages
- 11
- Points
- 3
Airport Security
Kate was nearly bouncing on the balls of her stockinged feet as she waited impatiently in the slow moving queue. On only her second business trip, she had aced her part of the pitch and was still on an adrenaline high that even the tedium and inconvenience of airport security couldn’t drag her down from.
Allison, her boss, role model and mentor, trudged along behind her as she reluctantly slipped off her smart business loafers and placed them alongside her laptop bag in a shallow plastic tray that she added to the scanner queue. She was proud of how well her young protegee had handled the presentation, but mostly she was tired of all the travel she had been doing recently. They had both had an early start to make the whole trip possible in one day and she was looking forward to getting home and having a good night’s sleep in her own bed. Stepping slowly forwards, the tiled floor cold under her bare feet, she couldn’t help but envy a little of Kate’s youthful energy as she watched her head flit round, sparrow-like and curious, to take in all the details around her.
Kate was soon called forwards to stand in the security scanner, which she did happily, feet apart, arms up in the air while the machine whirred around her. She was given the all clear to go pass through, but as she walked over to collect her shoes and laptop bag she was intercepted by a smartly uniformed security officer. “One moment, please, ma’am,” he said.
“Uh, … OK!” Kate said, a little confused but eager to help.
“Just wait a here minute, please.” She stood and watched as Allison passed through the same security scanner and was pulled over by the same officer.
“Excuse me, ladies, but we need to perform an extra interview.” As they both grimaced, he quickly continued “Don’t worry, you’re not in any trouble, it’s a routine process for which a small number of travellers are randomly selected. Please, take your bags and follow me.”
Kate complied without objection, picking up her bag and shoes and immediately setting off behind the officer, laptop bag over her shoulder and heels dangling from one hand. After a couple of steps, she looked back and realised Allison hadn’t moved but instead was fixing the officer with a level, sceptical stare.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m afraid this isn’t optional. We are constantly innovating to ensure we maintain the highest levels of security and we do need your cooperation with this process.”
Allison knew when to hold firm and when arguing was pointless. “Very well, let’s get this over with,” she said. She sat down and made the officer wait while she put her shoes back on before following a couple of steps behind him and Kate. He led them through a side door and down a white, featureless corridor lit only by harsh electric lights before unlocking a plain wooden door.
The room inside was plain but not spartan. It had no windows, but was lit by panels in the ceiling rather than the bare bulb Allison was half-expecting. It was rectangular, with the single door on the short side. To the right there were two high-backed chairs. The seat and cushioned back looked like that of a padded executive office chair, but behind the comfortable padding the chair was made from metal and not plastic, the pillar did not rotate like a swivel chair and the feet did not end in wheeled castors but were bolted to the ground. Dangling down from the seats were the straps of an airplane-style seatbelt. In front of the two chairs was a plain metal table, again bolted to the floor, with a series of holes drilled through the top. On the other side of the table were two plastic folding chairs and at the head of the table, opposite the door, a large mirror was built in to the wall. Behind the smaller plastic chairs the wall was decorated with a pair of informational posters about various security rules and one incongruous brightly coloured tourism advert.
“Please, ladies, take a seat and we’ll be back with you shortly,” the officer said, gesturing to his right and the large, heavy chairs, before turning and shutting the door behind him. As Kate and Allison walked over to the chairs, they heard a click as the door locked shut. Kate ran her hands over the heavy, sturdy construction of the chair. “Uh … what’s this for?” she asked, trying to swivel it round and finding it unmoving.
“I’m sure it’s nothing out of the ordinary,” Allison said confidently. “They’ll just ask us a few extra questions and then we’ll be on our way. We’ve still got a couple of hours before our flight and this won’t take more than a few minutes.” She sat down in the chair closer to the door, legs under the table, back straight and hands folded in her lap, perfectly still and composed as she waited. Kate sat down in the other chair, decided against putting her heels back on to feet that were aching from standing all day, and tried to copy Allison’s posture. Despite sitting similarly upright, she was unable to project the same air of confidence, her hands fidgeting and betraying her nervousness a little as the minutes dragged on silently.
Watching the two ladies unseen from behind the one-way mirror, weighing each up, was a pretty Latina officer. Her colleague walked around and joined her.
“These are the subjects for the next trial. I admit, your results have been unexpectedly impressive so far, but I’ve picked out these two to give you tougher challenge.”
“The one on the left, the young one, she’ll be easy,” the woman said. “The older one will be more of a challenge – you’ve done well to pick her out – but I can still break her.”
“We’ll see. I hope your confidence is well placed. I’m putting my reputation on the line by continuing to sponsor your program. Frankly, it’s seen as an embarrassment by head office. I need you to deliver exceptional results.”
“Oh, I will do,” she said with an icy smile.
Kate’s nerves were rising as she sat in the interrogation room, but Allison waited, patient as a crocodile. She was well-versed in corporate power-plays, and this sort of waiting game was something she had plenty of experience both inflicting and enduring. After a few minutes, there was another click and the door swung open and the same officer as before walked in, followed by two women in uniform.
“Thank you for your patience, ladies.” the man said. “Allow me to introduce ourselves. I am Officer Williams and this is Officer Martinez,” he said, gesturing to the Hispanic woman next to him. “We are from the FBI and are running a series of trials into some alternative effective interview methods.” The two FBI officers sat down in the two plastic folding chairs opposite Kate and Allison.
“This is TSA Officer Davis,” he continued, gesturing at the standing woman. “Officer Davis is here to ensure local cooperation and so we can be sure our methods can be rolled out widely to the field. If I could just have your passports, please, ladies, then we can begin.”
While Kate and Allison fished for their documents, Officer Martinez weighed them up more closely now she was face-to-face. On the left, as Kate dug urgently in her bag, she immediately pegged her as an insecure overachiever. In her mid-to-late twenties, she was dressed immaculately, tailored black suit jacket fitting snugly over a white shirt and paired with a high-waisted black pencil skirt that finished just above her knees. Beneath, she wore sheer black nylons, and a pair of fashionable high heels sat on the floor beside her chair. Her dark hair, subtly highlighted, hung to mid-back in perfectly-maintained loose waves. Her make-up, minimal but expertly applied, accentuated her natural youthful beauty, and her only concession to boldness was the deep red lipstick she wore. While she impressed many, Officer Martinez’s experienced eye correctly saw her as trying a little too hard to cover up her youth and insecurities.
Moving her gaze over to the right, as Allison looked carefully, unhurried, through her bag, Officer Martinez saw a much more confident, mature woman. Perhaps in her early fifties, she was dressed a little more casually but effortlessly stylishly in neutral tones. Brown slacks complimented a loose ivory top and ivory cardigan, dressed up with a large, fashionable necklace and small but expensive watch. Her straight, blonde hair sat above her shoulder, regular professional colour and highlight top-ups keeping the first encroaching grey hairs at bay. Her make-up and skin was impeccable, aided by an expensive range of lotions and moisturisers. Her short, manicured nails had a well-maintained coat of clear varnish. Physically, over the last few years she had been enjoying spending more and more time in the company of her very handsome and much younger personal trainer, with the side-effect that she found herself in perhaps the best shape of her life. She sat, extremely comfortable in her own skin and in the power she wielded in her professional and personal life, and held out her passport to the officer sitting opposite.
As the two officers scanned over Kate and Allison’s documents, Allison weighed the two of them in return, as well as the standing Officer Davis. The two FBI officers were both dressed very neatly in their uniform of fitted dark blue shirts, badges on both shoulders, at the collar and pinned to their chests. The man who had first intercepted her and Kate, Officer Williams, had short, perfectly neat black hair with a speckling of grey at the temples and was clean shaven. His expression was blank and unreadable, and he maintained his powerful build despite the first encroaches of middle age. The woman who sat next to him, Officer Martinez, was a pretty Latina with her black hair tied back into a severe pony-tail, perhaps in her early thirties. While almost as unreadable as her colleague, a slight upturn to the corner of her mouth (perhaps a deeply buried sense of humour?) and the hint of a mischievous twinkle to her eyes made her blank expression seem mysterious or enigmatic in contrast to Officer William’s regulation dullness.
Standing beside the two, Officer Davis was a younger woman. Of middle height, her bright blue uniformed shirt fitted poorly over her generous chest, and while her loosely-tied black tie would have looked respectable enough if she was by herself, it did not compare well to the crisp, immaculate ties of the two FBI agents. She would stand straight to attention for a minute or two, keen to impress the visiting agents, before gradually slumping in to a slouch then, suddenly catching herself, stand bolt upright again.
Officer Martinez looked up from the passports and turned her attention back to the two women opposite. “In this interview, I’m going to ask you a series of questions. Please, answer them as quickly and truthfully as possible. You aren’t in any trouble, and we’re not trying to catch you out, we’re just running some field trials of some novel interview methods. We may ask you the same questions multiple times under different circumstances and in different contexts. Some of the circumstances or contexts may seem odd, but I assure you what we’re doing in developing and trialling them is necessary for our national security. Do you understand?”
Kate was still a little nervous, but understood the importance of her role and was keen to help in any way she could, thrilled at the mention of national security. Eagerly, she nodded and said “Yes.”
Allison was tired and just wanted this to be over. Barely suppressing an eye roll, she said “Yes,” flatly.
Officer Martinez looked down at the passport and back up to make eye contact with Kate on the left.
“Name?”
“Kate.”
“Full Name?”
“Uh, Sorry. Catherine Collins.”
“Age?”
“26”
“Height?”
“5’ 5’’ ”
“Weight?”
“Uh … 120 pounds.”
“Reason for travel?”
“Oh, it’s for work. We went to pitch this new project we’ve been planning about …”
“Kate!” Allison interrupted.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. The project’s confidential. It’s all under NDA. We went to pitch a new project to an important potential customer.”
“Thank you, Kate,” Officer Martinez said with a warm smile, Kate’s face lighting up in return. She shuffled the passports, turned to Allison and the pair locked eyes.
“Name?”
“Allison Walker.”
“Age?”
“52”
“Height?”
“5’ 10’’”
“Weight?”
“150 pounds.”
“Reason for travel?”
“Work.”
“Have you ever transported any nuclear, chemical or biological weapons on an aircraft?”
Allison blinked in surprise at the unexpected question. “No,” she said flatly.
“Thank you, Allison. Now, if you please, Officer Davis?” She left the order unspoken, but the TSA Agent had been briefed on her role and hurried over. Bending down first over Allison, she took the ends of the seatbelt, buckled them shut and cinched the belt tight over her lap. Allison raised an eyebrow at Officer Martinez, but otherwise decided against protesting as Officer Davis hurried over to buckle Kate down in the same manner, Kate’s brow wrinkling a little in confusion.
“Name?” Officer Martinez asked again, looking Kate in the eyes.
“Uh … Catherine Collins,” she replied, a little confused about where this was going.
“Age?”
“26”
“Height?”
“5’ 5’’ “
“Weight?”
“120 pounds.”
“Reason for travel?”
“Work.” she said, confidently copying the right answer from her mentor.
“Have you ever conspired against the government of the United States of America?”
“Uh … no” Kate said, with a nervous giggle at the absurdity of the idea.
“Thank you, Kate.”
Officer Martinez turned back to Allison.
“Name?”
“Allison Walker,” she said, injecting her tone with as much boredom as possible while still being passably respectable.
“Age?”
“52”
“Height?”
“5’ 10’’”
“Weight?”
“150 pounds.”
“Reason for travel?”
“Work.”
“Have you ever visited Cuba, Iran, Syria or North Korea?”
“No,” she said flatly.
“Thank you, Allison. Officer Davis?” She again left the order unspoken and again, Officer Davis jumped to comply. Walking behind Allison, she gestured to the headrest on the top of the chair. “Can you put your arms up here, ma’am?” Frowning slightly, Allison complied, lifting her arms up over her head. Officer Davis, standing behind her, took hold of her wrists and gently folded her forearms down behind her head. Allison heard the ‘click’ of handcuffs and felt a gentle pressure on her wrists, not the cold, hard edge of metal handcuffs but a softer, rubbery pressure. She gave Officer Martinez a long, heavy stare. “Is this really necessary?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Allison rolled her eyes, struggling to hold on to the last dregs of her civility.
“If you could do the same, please, ma’am” Officer Davis said to Kate, and she hesitantly complied, a little nervous at the direction this was going. Once both ladies were locked in, Officer Davis made some small adjustments, pulling Kate’s hands a little further down and raising the headrest higher under Allison’s elbows, with the effect that both women had their upper arms straight up, headrest jammed into the crook of the elbow and lower arms pulled down behind their heads. A wide strap or belt was then wrapped around the upper forearms of each woman, leaving them unable to pull their arms apart or down.
Next, Officer Davis returned with a set of long bolts, wingnuts, and four wooden boards, each perhaps a foot wide, six inches tall and two thick, with two padded half-moon openings cut in the long side. She put the first on the table in front of Kate, on it’s side with the half-moon openings up. “Can you put your feet up here, ma’am?” she asked.
“Uh …” Kate hesitated, uncomfortable, and looked over to her boss for reassurance.
“Are you quite sure this is all necessary?” Allison asked Officer Martinez, audible frustration in her tone.
“Yes, I’m afraid this is necessary,” she replied flatly.
“Oh, come on then. Let’s get this over with as quickly as we can,” Allison said, and Kate reluctantly raised her stockinged feet up onto the table and lay her ankles in the two channels. Officer Davis carefully placed the matching half on top, long bolts passing through holes drilled vertically through both halves of the stocks and through the holes drilled in to the metal tabletop, before she tightened wingnuts onto each bolt, clamping Kate’s feet comfortably but securely to the table. She repeated the process with Allison, who grumbled as she lifted her legs up onto the table, leaving the older woman’s designer shoes on her sockless feet. The two FBI agents watched dispassionately as the process went on.
“Well, we’re pretty thoroughly stuck now.” Allison said with a barely concealed sneer. “What on earth are you hoping to achieve? Were you afraid we’d run away?”
“We are investigating the psychology of vulnerability.” Officer Martinez replied flatly, as Kate fidgeted awkwardly in her seat, one foot idly rubbing the sole of the other. Allison sat still, irritated but collected, and maintained eye contact with the FBI agent.
“Name?”
“Allison Walker,” she said, as flatly as possible.
“Age?”
“52”
“Height?”
“5’ 10’’”
“Weight?”
“150 pounds.”
“Shoe size?”
“What? Uh, 12,” Allison said, slightly rattled. While she loved being tall, and had either come to terms with or ruthlessly fixed every other part of her appearance, her big, wide feet were the one aspect of her that she remained slightly self-conscious about.
“Have you ever smuggled narcotics across national borders?”
“No.” she said flatly, quickly regaining her composure.
“Thank you, Allison.” Officer Martinez switched her attention to Kate.
“Name?”
“Catherine Collins,” she replied, confused but still trying to be helpful.
“Age?”
“26”
“Height?”
“5’ 5’’ “
“Weight?”
“120 pounds.”
“Shoe size?”
“7” she said with a smile, wiggling her toes slightly at the officer. Kate rather liked her dainty, narrow feet, with high arches and delicate toes. She’d had an ex who was obsessed with them, and she had been happy to put on a show in return for other favours. She still missed the hours-long foot rubs that she used to be able get on demand.
“Have you ever been convicted of war crimes by an international court?”
“No.”
“Thank you, Kate.”
Officer Martinez stood up and walked around the table to stand next to Allison. Reaching down, she lifted up the bottom of Allison’s ivory blouse and folded it up twice, exposing a couple of inches of toned abs. Allison looked up at her and stared her in the eyes.
“Really? And this is still necessary?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“And this is within the remit of your authority?”
“Yes.”
“You better be right about that, because I assure you that once this is over I will be consulting with some excellent attornies to determine exactly where the limits of your authority are. And if I find you have overstepped by one iota with me or with Kate then I assure you there will be consequences.”
“I assure you, I am well aware of exactly where limits of my authority are and look forward to responding to your attornies’ inquiries,” she said, reaching down with one hand and spidering her nails lightly over Allison’s bare stomach.
“Whaha ?” Allison gave a half-laughing interjection of surprise and flinched slightly as the officer’s nails made contact, before quickly setting her jaw and forcing a return to a neutral expression. This time, Officer Williams started the interrogation from across the table while Officer Martinez continued to lightly, idly spider-tickle her stomach.
“Name?” he asked.
“Allison Walker,” she said, as flatly as possible, blocking out the irritating sensation.
“Age?”
“52”
“Height?”
“5’ 10’’”
“Weight?”
“150 pounds.”
“Shoe size?”
“12”
“Have you committed genocide?”
“No.”
“Are you ticklish?”
“What? No.” she said flatly
“Thank you, Allison,” Officer Williams said, and the tickling stopped. Both officers switched their attention to Kate.
“Uh, no, uh, you don’t need to do this.” Kate said, nervously as the Latina officer reached down, untucked her shirt and undid the bottom three buttons, folding the fabric to the sides and exposing Kate’s slim stomach. “You don’t need to check, I am tickli – hi – hi – sh!” She broke out into musical giggles as the officer gave her the same treatment, fingers lightly spidering over her belly.
“Name?”
“Ca – ha – hatherine Collins” she giggled out.
“Age?”
“Twe - he - nty six.” she said, squirming in her chair.
“Height?”
“Five fi – hi- ve “
“Weight?”
“One hundred and twe-he-he-nty pounds.” she said, as Officer Martinez kept dancing her fingers maddeningly, maintaining steady contact the squirming young businesswoman.
“Shoe size?”
“Se-he-he-he-ven”
“Are you ticklish?”
“Yes! Yehehes! You can see-he-he that! She’s ti – hi – hi -ckling me!”
“What’s the purpose of your travel?”
“Work! Wo – herk!”
“What kind of work?”
“Uh … we came to pi – hihi – tch the project we’ve been preparing” she said, as Martinez finally stopping her light tickling.
“Whew! What kind of experiment is this? That tickled!” Kate said, thinking her questioning was over.
“What’s the project?”
“Uh … I can’t say.” she said, looking across to Allison for reinforcement. “It’s confidential”
“What’s the project, Kate?”
“Uh …” she said, eyes flitting nervously between her unmoved inquisitor, the mentor she admired and whose approval she craved, and the looming Latina officer whose hands were still hovering near her bare stomach.
“I can’t sa- hahahaHAHAY!” Officer Martinez pounced with both hands, using a little more pressure on Kate’s bare stomach to draw forth a continuous stream of bubbling laughter.
“No! Hahahaha! Stop it! Stop it! No! Please!”
“What’s the project, Kate?”
“No! Haha! I can’t sayeeeee!” Kate’s laughter jumped up an octave as one of Officer Martinez’ hands started lightly squeezing her ribs through the silky shirt she wore, the other still tormenting her exposed stomach. Her hips bounced up and down slightly in the chair, but the strap over her lap held firm.
“What’s the project, Kate?”
“Crypto! Wearable Crypto! You put it on a shirt so everyone can see it! But it’s unique for everyone! The shirt is on the blockchain!” she blurted out reflexively, and immediately the tickling stopped. She drooped in her chair, gasping for breath, as shame turned her face bright red. She’d been trusted with company confidential information and she’d spilled their next big thing, in front of her boss, after just a little tickling.
“Thank you, Kate.”
She looked over, downcast, towards her Allison, expecting a stern admonishment, but instead her mentor turned her protective anger onto the FBI Agents.
“Are you proud of yourselves? Is this the next great leap in national security? That you can manage to tickle a company secret out of a girl like Kate?” she said, raising her voice for the first time, short, clipped words betraying her fury. Kate felt a little better as Allison came to her defence, but “girl” stung a little – she wanted her boss and role-model to see her as an adult businesswoman, not a little giggling girl who couldn’t take a little tickling.
Officer Martinez walked over to Allison, and Officer Williams switched his gaze over.
“Name?”
“No. We’re not taking part any longer. Let us go.” Allison snapped, patience finally running out.
“Name?” he asked again, showing no reaction to her outburst. Officer Martinez again started spidering her fingers over Allison’s bare stomach, causing the corner of her mouth to twitch up quickly before she firmly set her jaw.
“No! Let us go! There will be consequences for this, you know.”
“Name?” Officer William’s repeated, and Officer Martinez started kneading Allison’s toned stomach with a slightly heavier touch. Allison’s focused on her breathing, and Officer Martinez noticed it become slightly deeper and more regular.
“Name?” Officer Williams asked again, as Officer Martinez sent one of her hands up under Allison’s cotton blouse and gently scratched at her ribcage.
“Come on, this is ridiculous.” Allison said, no evidence of strain in her voice. Officer Martinez started squeezing her ribs, gently, one-by-one, and Allison clenched her jaw tightly shut, breathing forced and regular.
“Name?”
She shook her head, and Officer Martinez sped up her fluttering grip, moving both hands up and down both sides of Allison’s ribcage independently. Allison squeezed her eyes shut, hands clenched into fists behind her head, and focused as fully as she could on short, regular, angry breaths in and out of her nose.
“Name?” She shook her head again, and Officer Martinez’ hands fluttered up into her armpits before dancing back down to squeeze her ribs again then alternating independently between the two. Allison rocked back and forth slightly, body tense, alternately holding her breath, then letting it out in quick bursts, then holding her breath again in an effort to control her reactions. Kate watched this battle of wills, admiration for her mentor’s strength of will mixed with shame at how easily she broke in comparison. She felt a knot of tension sit in her stomach for a couple of minutes as the skilled officer worked thoroughly over her mature colleague, varying her tickling techniques as Allison teetered on the brink, but gradually the strong-willed businesswoman acclimatised to the sensations and slowly began to relax. Her eyes were still closed, but not screwed as tightly shut, her hands unclenched and she slowly started bringing her breathing more under control.
“Name?”
Allison shook her head, more slowly and measured.
“Officer Martinez? Are you done?” Officer Williams asked, a slight tone of disappointment in his voice as she lost ground against the older businesswoman’s resolve.
“No, I’m not done,” Officer Martinez responded. “Maybe her feet next?”
“No!” Allison’s eyes opened wide and a note of genuine fear entered her voice. Officer Martinez noted her reaction with a slight smile, and Allison suspected she was enjoying this more than necessary.
“Or her co-worker?”
“What? No!” Kate sat bolt upright as she felt Officer Martinez’ attention switch over to her. “No! I already did my part! You’ve already tickled me!”
Officer Martinez slowly unbuttoned the remainder of Kate’s shirt, working bottom to top, and spread the two halves apart, exposing a pale pink bra. Allison watched in angry silence, the knowledge that she could do nothing to protect her young protegee gnawing at her insides, while Kate’s begging and pleading felt like knives twisting her stomach. “No! Please, come on, no. I’m too ticklish. I can’t stand it! You’ve already won! You don’t need to do this!”
The Hispanic officer didn’t bother with any warm up this time, pouncing immediately into Kate’s now bare armpits and rapidly flicking her nails over the soft, warm skin. She burst out into frantic, high-pitched laughter and Officer Martinez held her there for several long seconds before easing back, leaving just a single finger on from one hand tracing lazily up and down her ribs. Throughout, Officer Williams kept his focus on Allison, who was watching Kate awkwardly from the side.
“Name?” he repeated, still directing his question at Allison.
“Now, come on, this is ridiculous!” she objected, and Officer Martinez immediately dove back on Kate’s armpits, sending her howling.
“You can’t expect … “ Allison’s attempt at reason was drowned out by Kate’s desperate laughter as Officer Martinez slid her hands down to squeeze Kate’s sides, causing her to thrash helplessly in her bonds. Again, after long seconds of intense laughter, Officer Martinez gradually eased back to send a single nail trailing loose orbits around Kate’s navel.
Kate, panting, hair dishevelled, looked imploringly across at Allison. “Please,” she begged in a small, despairing voice at her stoic mentor.
“Name?” Officer Williams asked again, and Kate cringed, making herself small in her chair and attempting to get as far as possible from Officer Martinez’s cruel hands.
“Allison Walker,” she said, reluctantly, and Kate felt an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude to her saviour.
“Age?”
“52”
“Height?”
“5’ 10’’”
“Weight?”
“150 pounds.”
“Shoe size?”
“12”
“What’s the purpose of your travel?”
“Work.”
“What kind of work?”
“Pitching a new project to a client.”
“Who is the client?”
Allison paused.
“I’m sorry, Kate; but I can’t say.”
“What? No! NohohohHOHAHAH!” Kate burst back into laughter as Officer Martinez dove in, sliding her thumbs under the waist of her skirt to dig in just above her hip-bone.
“NO! PLEASE! It’s Nike! It’s Nike!” Kate immediately confided, but there was no let-up for her.
“Who else are you pitching the project to?”
“I can’t say.” Allison said reluctantly, looking downcast
“I DON’T KNOW! I DON’T KNOW! I ONLY KNOW THIS PITCH! I’M NOT INVOLVED IN THE REST!” Kate said frantically between desperate bursts of laughter.
“Who else are you pitching the project to?”
Officer Martinez slid her hands down to Kate’s knees, exposed just below the hem of her skirt and slightly elevated with her feet propped up on the table. One hand lightly squeezed above one knee while the other hand scribbled lightly on the nylon-clad back of Kate’s other knee. The combination of sensations drove her wild, screams intermingling with her laughter.
“I can’t say,” Allison said quietly, averting her eyes from the torment being inflicted on her young protege.
After a long minute or two of tickling, Officer Martinez stopped, crossed back to the other side of the table and sat back down next to Officer Williams. Kate, opposite, slumped down, panting and disoriented. The two officers conferred quietly for a few seconds, then both stood up. “Please, excuse us,” Officer Martinez said, and they both left the room, Officer Davis trailing behind them. As the door shut, again both women heard the click of a key in the lock.
Kate hung limply in her restraints, drained from her ordeal, while Allison struggled with renewed vigour against the chair for a few seconds before accepting that she was still very firmly stuck.
“Are you OK, Kate?” she asked, genuine concern in her voice as she looked over her protege, mere hours ago confidently delivering her pitch with flawless style, now sitting sweaty and dishevelled, hair askew, shirt open, bra exposed, stockinged feet up on the table. “I’m sorry they put you through that.”
“I’m OK” Kate said weakly. “I’m sorry I gave away your idea with the crypto.”
“That’s understandable, Kate.” Allison said encouragingly, although inside she did feel frustrated at how quickly Kate had let slip.
“What do you think they’ll do next?” Kate asked, nervously.
“I don’t know,” Allison said, suddenly remembering Officer Martinez’s comments about her feet. She hated having her big feet touched, having to force herself through excruciating pedicures to stay on good terms with the excellent stylist who did such a good job with her hands and eyebrows. “But we’ll face it together,” she said, projecting a confidence she didn’t feel. “You’re stronger than you think.”
Kate warmed up at Allison’s compliment, sitting up a little straighter, when the door opened again with a click and the three officers came back in. The two FBI officers sat back down in their previous positions, and Officer Davis walked around to stand behind Kate.
“Is it over? Are you letting us out?” Kate asked, hopefully.
“I’m afraid not,” Officer Martinez said. “Kate, are your feet ticklish?”
“No! Oh no! Not that! Not more tickling!” Kate said, feet squirming in the table stocks.
“Are your feet ticklish?”
“Yes.” she said quietly, looking down at the floor.
“Allison, are your feet ticklish?”
“No,” she lied flatly and with confidence she didn’t feel.
“Kate, does this tickle?” Officer Martinez said as she flicked her forefinger up Kate’s nylon clad sole, heel to toe like striking a match, left then right then left again.
“Yes! Yehehes! Stop it!” Kate giggled.
Officer Martinez stopped and looked over at Allison “Allison, I’m going to ask you a question. If you don’t answer it, Officer Davis and I are going to tickle Kate for the next twenty minutes, non-stop”
“No!” Kate gasped.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Who else are you pitching the project to?”
“Please, Allison. Please. I can’t take it, I can’t take it, that’s too long, it’s too much. Please, I’ll go mad, I can’t take it, please!” Kate begged.
“I’m sorry, Kate. You’re stronger than you think.” Allison said with as much encouragement as she could manage, before turning to Officer Martinez. “I’m afraid I can’t say,” she said, sadly.
“No! No! Please! No, Allison, don’t to do this to me! Please!” Kate begged pitifully, but Allison simply looked down sadly.
“Please! I’d tell you if I knew, but I don’t know! I only knew what we were doing on this trip! I don’t know the rest of the project! I don’t know the other clients! Please!” Kate begged the officers, who sat unmoved.
“Can you start the timer, please?” Officer Martinez asked Officer Williams, who wordlessly pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a couple of times.
“No! No! NohohohAHAHAHA!” Kate immediately burst into heavy laughter as the two ladies dove in with enthusiasm. Officer Davis, who until now had been watching, barely believing her eyes, was more than happy to participate both to impress the FBI agents and to bring the haughty, rich businesswomen down a couple of notches. Standing behind Kate, she dove in with less skill than Officer Martinez but plenty of enthusiasm, hands grasping and pinching down Kate’s sides. Officer Martinez leaned forwards in her chair, stretched her fingers like a pianist lumbering up for a marathon concerto and skittered skilfully over Kate’s nylon-clad soles, fingers flying maddeningly around the dainty ankle, tip-tapping over the tops, nails digging in to the pads below toes but mostly skimming over nylon-slick sole and deep arch.
Allison shut her eyes, unable to watch Kate’s torment as her laughter rose, mixed with screams, and plateaued for long, cruel minutes, becoming rougher over time as Kate’s tormentors persisted unceasingly until her laughter was almost animal. Finally exhaustion took hold and blended soft sobbing in between the gasped breaths necessary to sustain soft aftershocks of laughter as her inquisitors dragged every last sensation from her helpless body. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity to Allison, she heard Officer Martinez’s emotionless voice interrupt Kate’s gentle sobbing. “Thank you, Kate.”
She looked over with trepidation and was shocked at what she saw. She was used to Kate, rising star and protege, always professional, always neatly dressed, quick to offer help or a surprisingly deep insight into a tricky problem. Now she was red-faced and sweaty as if she had just finished a race, tears sweeping sticky tracks through her subtle makeup, hair stuck at odd angles to her forehead or arms or chest or shoulders. Her chest stuck out because of her raised arms and as she panted exhaustedly her modest cleavage rose and fell in her pale pink bra, exposed for all to see. Her sides and stomach were red from Officer Davis’s enthusiastic treatment, and one nylon was torn and pulled back to the ankle, leaving her with mismatched feet.
Protective rage surged explosively in Allison “You fucking … you monsters!” she spat, near incoherent with rage. “You … Are you proud? Are you … ? Look what you’ve done! Look what you’ve done to her! Are you proud of that?”
“Who else are you pitching the project to?”
“Oh, fuck that. Fuck all of that. That’s not what any of this is about, is it? If you needed to know, you could just send a request to the company. Get the right permissions attached and we’d hand it straight over.”
“That’s correct.”
“So what’s the point of all this. Is this some kind of sick game?”
“Like I said earlier, we’re running a trial into some novel interrogation techniques. Who else are you pitching the project to?”
Stubborn and proud to the end, Allison responded “Fuck you.”
“Kate, can you hear me?” Officer Martinez asked, kindly.
“Wha?” Kate asked, distantly, mind blown far, far away by the intensity of what she had suffered through.
“Kate, can you hear me?”
“Yeah.”
“Kate, we need to take of Allison’s shoes.”
“No!” Allison interrupted, panicked.
“Is it OK if we take off Allison’s shoes?”
“No! OK, OK, you win,” Allison said, quickly. “You win, you don’t need to do that. We’re pitching to Adidas, Zara and H&M. They are the others we’re pitching to.”
Officer Martinez gave a slight half-smile of satisfaction, before quickly burying it under her professional mask. “Who else?”
“That’s all of them we’re pitching to at the moment.”
Pause
“Who else?”
“No, that’s all of them. That’s all of them.”
“I don’t believe you. Who else?”
“Nobody! Nobody!” Allison said, desperately.
“Who else?”
“Uh … Chanel,” said Allison, quickly making up what she thought Officer Martinez wanted to hear.
“You’re lying. Who else?”
“Nobody! I’ve told you! There isn’t anyone else! You’ve won! You’ve got what you wanted!”
“Kate, Allison is still lying to me. Can I take off her shoes?”
“No! Please! Kate! This is important!” Kate looked slowly, still half dazed, over towards her boss and mentor, still dressed effortlessly fashionably, hair still sitting neatly, with only a narrow strip of folded top exposing toned, bare midriff marring her appearance. In her eyes, however, was real fear. “Please Kate, you can’t let them do this to me! Please, Kate!”
“Can I take off her shoes?”
Kate looked back to Officer Martinez and, despite her exhaustion, gathered the last of her defiance to protect her mentor.
“No.”
Officer Martinez pounced immediately, aiming for the sole of the nylon-clad foot and the toes of the bare one. Kate, exhausted, could only break out into slow, low laughter.
“Kate, can I take off Allison’s shoes?”
“No! Please, stop, please stop,” Kate’s sobs mixed in with husky laughter.
Officer Martinez gestured to Officer Davis, still standing behind Kate, and she eagerly jumped in on Kate’s upper body.
“Kate, can I take off Allison’s shoes?”
“No! Stop! Please, stop! Oh god, oh god, please stop! FUCK! Stop!” she screamed in frustration “Do it! Take them off!”
“No! Kate! No!” Allison shouted. “How could you! How could you!”
“I’m sorry, Allison, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Kate sobbed “I couldn’t, I just couldn’t take it, I couldn’t, I’m sorry!”
Allison took a deep breath, and the guilt she felt at lashing out at Kate allowed her to barely bring her rising panic under control. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. It’s hers,” she said, casting a hate-filled glance at Officer Martinez, who was no longer able to control the shark-like smile spreading across her face.
“Who else are you pitching the project to?”
Allison put on her best professional battle face, honed over years of dealing with difficult clients and executives “Oh, fuck you. Do your worst, you sick bitch.”
“Oh, I will,” Officer Martinez said with a smile, as she stood up and switched places with Officer Williams to sit opposite the older businesswoman. She leaned forwards and cradled the heel of one slip-on shoe with one hand. Making eye contact, she slowly pulled the heel of the shoe towards her, and Allison felt fresh, cold air flow over her heel, warm from being in the shoe all day. Officer Martinez slowly reached out her other hand to hold the toe of the shoe and smoothly, almost ceremonially, lifted it up and away from Allison’s foot. She put it down carefully on the table beside the table stocks, in Allison’s eyeline and tantalizingly close to her feet but offering no protection at all. Icy fear churned in Allison’s stomach behind her stoic mask as Officer Martinez repeated the process, oh so slowly with the second shoe, leaving her with her bare feet trapped in stocks up on the table.
Hot embarrassment mixed with icy fear, partly from the unprofessionalism of propping her bare feet up on a table, particularly in front of a junior colleague like Kate, but mostly in the exposure of her hated big feet. Regular, torturous pedicures kept them clear of callouses or bunions, and her natural thoroughness meant her skincare routine did not skip her them, leaving the soles soft and oh-so-sensitive.
Kate watched with deep shame that it was her own weakness that had put Allison in such a vulnerable position. She was unable to tear her eyes away from the duel between the two women as Officer Martinez readied herself, hands poised over Allison’s soles like a typist over a typewriter, and her stomach churned as deep down she knew she would see her mentor, her role-model broken as thoroughly as she was herself.
“Get on with i-hi-t” Allison said, face twitching as Officer Martinez flicked her nails oh-so-briefly over the sole, slow pauses interrupted by quick, lunging taps. Allison’s impassive mask twisted a little around her eyes and mouth as she flinched from each light, fleeting contact, feet scrunching involuntarily. Officer Martinez dropped her hands to lightly scratch at Allison’s heels, rippling across from her index finger to little finger and back again, all four fingers fitting comfortably on Allison’s wide feet.
“Whoo - hoo – hoo!” Allison started to wheeze, a slow tremolo of laughter starting to blend into her carefully measured breathing, toes splaying but otherwise keeping her feet still through sheer willpower. Officer Martinez slowly wandered her hands up Allison’s soles, fingers still rippling fluidly side-to-side, thoroughly mapping the big, soft canvases she was working on.
“Wha – ha – ha – ha!” Allison’s laughter increased in volume and frequency a little as Officer Martinez progressed up her soles. “Who – ha -ha! I’ve got this! I can do this! I can do this!” she psyched her self up. “Is that the wo-hohoho-rst you’ve got?”
“No” said Officer Martinez, calmly, as she continued her steady, unhurried ascent of Allison’s soles.
“Wha – haha! I can do this! I can do this! Fuck! FUCK!” she said, desperately trying to pull her arms down, thrashing in her bonds, clamping down on a scream as the officer hit a particularly sensitive spot. Pulling herself back from the brink with a supreme effort of will, she cursed. “Ha! Aargh! Fuck! Fuck you! God dahahahamn you!”
Officer Martinez reached the end of her slow scan up at Allison’s toes and sat back, before getting up and walking around the table again to stand next to Allison. Allison cringed back in her chair like a lion before the tamer’s whip, at once proud and fearful as Officer Martinez reached out a gentle hand and tucked a loose strand of hair back behind Allison’s ear. She bent down and whispered “I know how to break you, now. I’ve got all the information I need. I’m not in a hurry. But when I’m ready, I know how to break you. And you know that, don’t you?”
The words struck cold terror into Allison’s heart, as deep down she did know they were true. However, Allison also knew that she was incapable of giving in without a fight, even if her stubborn resistance merely extended her torment and delayed the inevitable.
“You know that, don’t you?”
Allison squeezed her eyes shut, scrunching in on herself. She shook her head rapidly, defiantly. “No,” she said in a small voice.
Officer Martinez stretched one hand down to Allison’s exposed midriff and started spidering her nails. Allison squirmed in her chair, face still squeezed shut.
“You know that, don’t you?”
“No.”
Officer Martinez stretched her other hand down to Allison’s armpits, sweat soaking through her ivory blouse, and dug in to the centre of the damp patch. Allison clenched her jaw and her breathing steamed heavily out of flaring nostrils. Worst of all, she knew that Officer Martinez was just playing with her, that these insufferable sensations were nothing compared to what she could unleash.
“You know that, don’t you?
“Nuh-uh,” Allison managed through clenched teeth, shaking her head.
Officer Martinez toyed with Allison’s upper body for a couple of minutes, exploring abs, ribs, armpits as Allison desperately squeezed her eyes shut and just about managed to block out the sensations. Eventually, Officer Martinez stopped and Allison tentatively opened her eyes to see the Hispanic officer, wide grin on her face and eyes alight, sitting down across from her feet once more. Allison cringed back into her chair as Officer Martinez leaned forwards and extended two index fingers to hover precisely where she had noted Allison’s reactions were strongest before, in the centre of the sole just below the ball of the foot.
“No. No, don’t, please …” Allison gabbled, eyes full of fear.
“Gah!” she shrieked as Officer Martinez dragged her fingers quickly across the spots.
“No! Please! GAH!” she shrieked again as Officer Martinez swept across the spot sideways, then diagonally, leaving no ambiguity about the precise centre of her target.
“Oh God, please!” she begged, squeezing her eyes shut as Officer Martinez’s fingers lightly, lazily circled around the deadly spot. She dragged the moment out, tracing out circles, as Allison squinted, unsure if seeing or not seeing her inevitable torment was worse.
“Kate?” Officer Martinez said, interrupting her horrified stare as she watched her mentor, role model and idol, the strongest woman she knew, beg pathetically to not have her feet tickled.
“Kate, do you think Allison needs a break?” Officer Martinez asked, not stopping her slow circling of Allison’s feet.
“Yes!” Allison grasped desperately at her chance of reprieve like a drowning man thrown a rope. “Yes!”
“Kate, do you want me to tickle you instead?”
“What? No!” Kate said, shocked. Officer Martinez turned her gaze slowly back towards Allison.
“No! Oh God, please, Kate! Help me! Don’t let her do it! This is serious! I’m begging you, please! Don’t let her do it!”
“OK! Do it! Do it to me! Tickle me!” Kate said, her need to protect her mentor outweighing her own horror of being tickled.
Officer Martinez’s hands jumped over to Kate’s feet immediately, stretching over and diving in with no warm up. Kate’s previous lengthy torment and the tension of watching Allison be slowly brought to the edge of breaking meant Kate’s nerves were as highly strung as ever and she immediately howled and thrashed with laughter.
“No! No! Stop!”
“Do you want me to stop, Kate?”
“Yes! Stop, stop!” she screamed between gales of laughter.
“If I stop now, I’ll go back to tickling Allison. Is that what you want?” she said calmly.
“No!” Kate and Allison said in unison. “Please, Kate, don’t!” Allison said while Kate was only able to laugh and scream as Officer Martinez increased the pace of her assault.
“No! No! I can take it! I can take it!” Kate howled, but as Officer Martinez hit a particularly sensitive spot she blurted “No! Stop!”
Officer Martinez stopped immediately and a heavy silence hung in the room. Kate’s laboured panting was the only sound for several, long, seconds.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Allison!” she managed to find the breath to say
Officer Martinez turned back to Allison and rested the heels of her hands onto the heels of Allison’s feet, fingers poised just above the twin spots that both Allison and Officer Martinez knew would be her doom. Allison stared down her fate silently, finding her last shreds of stoicism to bravely meet the inevitable.
“No! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! Tickle me! Do it to me!” Kate begged, but Officer Martinez and Allison had already locked eyes. The officer held the eye contact, poised, enjoying the tension for long seconds, before finally dropping Allison straight to the deepest pit of her own personal hell as she sent her fingers flying. Allison let out an animal wail, screaming and laughing, head thrashing and hair flying, body struggling against the restraints, feet flapping desperately but futilely as Officer Martinez hands rested on her heels and her fingers struck out one after the other to unerringly find the weakest spot on Allison’s flailing feet.
“Oh God! Fuck! You win! Stop!” Allison screamed incoherently.
Officer Williams, who until now had been watching silently and impassively, spoke up in a calm, level voice.
“Have you ever transported any nuclear, chemical or biological weapons on an aircraft?”
“What?! NO!” Allison screamed as Officer Martinez continued her focused assault.
“Have you ever transported any nuclear, chemical or biological weapons on an aircraft?”
“God! Stop! Stop! OK, YES! YES!”
“Have you ever conspired against the government of the United States?”
“YES! Stop! You win! Stop!”
Officer Williams continued, emotionless, down his long list of questions as Officer Martinez extracted confessions to each, Allison’s thrashing and screaming gradually fading into low, husky, exhausted laughter, her thrashing feet slowing to mere twitching but losing none of their sensitivity under Officer Martinez focused attention.
“Thank you, Allison” he concluded, and Officer Martinez finally stopped tickling her. She didn’t move her hands away, but instead started a slow massage with her thumbs as Allison slumped into her chair.
“Allison?”
She looked up at Officer Martinez, exhausted, ashamed, past anger, utterly defeated by the younger officer.
“You know that I broke you, don’t you.”
“Yes,” she said, eyes downcast. “You win. You’ve won everything.”
“Not quite everything.” Officer Martinez still had one last twist of the knife, one last betrayal to be certain of her victory.
“Allison, can I keep Kate?”
“What?” both Allison and Kate said, one deeply, deeply exhausted and one fresh and fearful.
“Allison, can I keep Kate? Can I keep her forever? Can I take her away from here, lock her up, keep her forever, tickle her forever?”
“No!” Kate’s jaw dropped. “You can’t do that! That’s not legal!” she said, outraged. “Is it?” she asked fearfully, eyes wide.
“Allison, can I keep Kate?” Officer Martinez asked, still rubbing Allison’s feet.
Allison finally started sobbing. “No, please. You’ve won everything. Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me do this. Please.”
“What do you mean?” Kate asked, confusion mixing with horror. “No, no, you can’t mean that, you can’t do that, she can’t do that, this isn’t happening!”
“Allison, can I keep Kate?” Officer Martinez asked.
“No” Allison said between sobs, eyes downcast. She cringing away as Officer Martinez’s thumbs slowly sought out and rested over the most sensitive weak-spots on her soles. “No NoNONONO! NO! NO! DON’T DO IT! DON’T DO IT! PLEASE!”
“Allison, can I keep Kate?”
“No” she wept.
Officer Martinez dove in with a fury.
“NO! NOAHAHAHAHAH! NAHAHAHAHAHAH! PLEASE! OK, OK, YES! DO IT!”
“For ever?”
“FOR EVER! FOR EVER!”
Kate’s jaw dropped in shock and horror, mind recoiling in horror from visions of an eternity of tickle-torture in the crazed hands of the sadistic Officer Martinez. Allison sobbed quietly to herself, and Officer Martinez sat back proudly, no attempt to hide her smug smile.
“Well. Thank you for your … enthusiastic ... participation in our trial, ladies.” Officer Williams said, looking across at the two broken women. Allison, tall and powerful, hair wildly askew, soaked in sweat, sobbing quietly to herself, big, bare feet up on the table, mindlessly, automatically rubbing one over the other again and again as if to wipe away the torture they had been subjected to. Kate, young rising star, staring slack-jawed, lost for words, stunned by her mentor’s betrayal, shirt unbuttoned and wide open with her mismatched feet up on the table, one stocking on and one torn off.
“It’s certainly been … informative,” he said, choosing his words carefully.
“Your flight is just about to board. Officer Davis will let you out and escort you to your gate, then you’ll be on your way on time!” he said with a practised note of cheerfulness, as if nothing unusual had happened. The two FBI agents got up, and left the room.
Kate was nearly bouncing on the balls of her stockinged feet as she waited impatiently in the slow moving queue. On only her second business trip, she had aced her part of the pitch and was still on an adrenaline high that even the tedium and inconvenience of airport security couldn’t drag her down from.
Allison, her boss, role model and mentor, trudged along behind her as she reluctantly slipped off her smart business loafers and placed them alongside her laptop bag in a shallow plastic tray that she added to the scanner queue. She was proud of how well her young protegee had handled the presentation, but mostly she was tired of all the travel she had been doing recently. They had both had an early start to make the whole trip possible in one day and she was looking forward to getting home and having a good night’s sleep in her own bed. Stepping slowly forwards, the tiled floor cold under her bare feet, she couldn’t help but envy a little of Kate’s youthful energy as she watched her head flit round, sparrow-like and curious, to take in all the details around her.
Kate was soon called forwards to stand in the security scanner, which she did happily, feet apart, arms up in the air while the machine whirred around her. She was given the all clear to go pass through, but as she walked over to collect her shoes and laptop bag she was intercepted by a smartly uniformed security officer. “One moment, please, ma’am,” he said.
“Uh, … OK!” Kate said, a little confused but eager to help.
“Just wait a here minute, please.” She stood and watched as Allison passed through the same security scanner and was pulled over by the same officer.
“Excuse me, ladies, but we need to perform an extra interview.” As they both grimaced, he quickly continued “Don’t worry, you’re not in any trouble, it’s a routine process for which a small number of travellers are randomly selected. Please, take your bags and follow me.”
Kate complied without objection, picking up her bag and shoes and immediately setting off behind the officer, laptop bag over her shoulder and heels dangling from one hand. After a couple of steps, she looked back and realised Allison hadn’t moved but instead was fixing the officer with a level, sceptical stare.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m afraid this isn’t optional. We are constantly innovating to ensure we maintain the highest levels of security and we do need your cooperation with this process.”
Allison knew when to hold firm and when arguing was pointless. “Very well, let’s get this over with,” she said. She sat down and made the officer wait while she put her shoes back on before following a couple of steps behind him and Kate. He led them through a side door and down a white, featureless corridor lit only by harsh electric lights before unlocking a plain wooden door.
The room inside was plain but not spartan. It had no windows, but was lit by panels in the ceiling rather than the bare bulb Allison was half-expecting. It was rectangular, with the single door on the short side. To the right there were two high-backed chairs. The seat and cushioned back looked like that of a padded executive office chair, but behind the comfortable padding the chair was made from metal and not plastic, the pillar did not rotate like a swivel chair and the feet did not end in wheeled castors but were bolted to the ground. Dangling down from the seats were the straps of an airplane-style seatbelt. In front of the two chairs was a plain metal table, again bolted to the floor, with a series of holes drilled through the top. On the other side of the table were two plastic folding chairs and at the head of the table, opposite the door, a large mirror was built in to the wall. Behind the smaller plastic chairs the wall was decorated with a pair of informational posters about various security rules and one incongruous brightly coloured tourism advert.
“Please, ladies, take a seat and we’ll be back with you shortly,” the officer said, gesturing to his right and the large, heavy chairs, before turning and shutting the door behind him. As Kate and Allison walked over to the chairs, they heard a click as the door locked shut. Kate ran her hands over the heavy, sturdy construction of the chair. “Uh … what’s this for?” she asked, trying to swivel it round and finding it unmoving.
“I’m sure it’s nothing out of the ordinary,” Allison said confidently. “They’ll just ask us a few extra questions and then we’ll be on our way. We’ve still got a couple of hours before our flight and this won’t take more than a few minutes.” She sat down in the chair closer to the door, legs under the table, back straight and hands folded in her lap, perfectly still and composed as she waited. Kate sat down in the other chair, decided against putting her heels back on to feet that were aching from standing all day, and tried to copy Allison’s posture. Despite sitting similarly upright, she was unable to project the same air of confidence, her hands fidgeting and betraying her nervousness a little as the minutes dragged on silently.
Watching the two ladies unseen from behind the one-way mirror, weighing each up, was a pretty Latina officer. Her colleague walked around and joined her.
“These are the subjects for the next trial. I admit, your results have been unexpectedly impressive so far, but I’ve picked out these two to give you tougher challenge.”
“The one on the left, the young one, she’ll be easy,” the woman said. “The older one will be more of a challenge – you’ve done well to pick her out – but I can still break her.”
“We’ll see. I hope your confidence is well placed. I’m putting my reputation on the line by continuing to sponsor your program. Frankly, it’s seen as an embarrassment by head office. I need you to deliver exceptional results.”
“Oh, I will do,” she said with an icy smile.
Kate’s nerves were rising as she sat in the interrogation room, but Allison waited, patient as a crocodile. She was well-versed in corporate power-plays, and this sort of waiting game was something she had plenty of experience both inflicting and enduring. After a few minutes, there was another click and the door swung open and the same officer as before walked in, followed by two women in uniform.
“Thank you for your patience, ladies.” the man said. “Allow me to introduce ourselves. I am Officer Williams and this is Officer Martinez,” he said, gesturing to the Hispanic woman next to him. “We are from the FBI and are running a series of trials into some alternative effective interview methods.” The two FBI officers sat down in the two plastic folding chairs opposite Kate and Allison.
“This is TSA Officer Davis,” he continued, gesturing at the standing woman. “Officer Davis is here to ensure local cooperation and so we can be sure our methods can be rolled out widely to the field. If I could just have your passports, please, ladies, then we can begin.”
While Kate and Allison fished for their documents, Officer Martinez weighed them up more closely now she was face-to-face. On the left, as Kate dug urgently in her bag, she immediately pegged her as an insecure overachiever. In her mid-to-late twenties, she was dressed immaculately, tailored black suit jacket fitting snugly over a white shirt and paired with a high-waisted black pencil skirt that finished just above her knees. Beneath, she wore sheer black nylons, and a pair of fashionable high heels sat on the floor beside her chair. Her dark hair, subtly highlighted, hung to mid-back in perfectly-maintained loose waves. Her make-up, minimal but expertly applied, accentuated her natural youthful beauty, and her only concession to boldness was the deep red lipstick she wore. While she impressed many, Officer Martinez’s experienced eye correctly saw her as trying a little too hard to cover up her youth and insecurities.
Moving her gaze over to the right, as Allison looked carefully, unhurried, through her bag, Officer Martinez saw a much more confident, mature woman. Perhaps in her early fifties, she was dressed a little more casually but effortlessly stylishly in neutral tones. Brown slacks complimented a loose ivory top and ivory cardigan, dressed up with a large, fashionable necklace and small but expensive watch. Her straight, blonde hair sat above her shoulder, regular professional colour and highlight top-ups keeping the first encroaching grey hairs at bay. Her make-up and skin was impeccable, aided by an expensive range of lotions and moisturisers. Her short, manicured nails had a well-maintained coat of clear varnish. Physically, over the last few years she had been enjoying spending more and more time in the company of her very handsome and much younger personal trainer, with the side-effect that she found herself in perhaps the best shape of her life. She sat, extremely comfortable in her own skin and in the power she wielded in her professional and personal life, and held out her passport to the officer sitting opposite.
As the two officers scanned over Kate and Allison’s documents, Allison weighed the two of them in return, as well as the standing Officer Davis. The two FBI officers were both dressed very neatly in their uniform of fitted dark blue shirts, badges on both shoulders, at the collar and pinned to their chests. The man who had first intercepted her and Kate, Officer Williams, had short, perfectly neat black hair with a speckling of grey at the temples and was clean shaven. His expression was blank and unreadable, and he maintained his powerful build despite the first encroaches of middle age. The woman who sat next to him, Officer Martinez, was a pretty Latina with her black hair tied back into a severe pony-tail, perhaps in her early thirties. While almost as unreadable as her colleague, a slight upturn to the corner of her mouth (perhaps a deeply buried sense of humour?) and the hint of a mischievous twinkle to her eyes made her blank expression seem mysterious or enigmatic in contrast to Officer William’s regulation dullness.
Standing beside the two, Officer Davis was a younger woman. Of middle height, her bright blue uniformed shirt fitted poorly over her generous chest, and while her loosely-tied black tie would have looked respectable enough if she was by herself, it did not compare well to the crisp, immaculate ties of the two FBI agents. She would stand straight to attention for a minute or two, keen to impress the visiting agents, before gradually slumping in to a slouch then, suddenly catching herself, stand bolt upright again.
Officer Martinez looked up from the passports and turned her attention back to the two women opposite. “In this interview, I’m going to ask you a series of questions. Please, answer them as quickly and truthfully as possible. You aren’t in any trouble, and we’re not trying to catch you out, we’re just running some field trials of some novel interview methods. We may ask you the same questions multiple times under different circumstances and in different contexts. Some of the circumstances or contexts may seem odd, but I assure you what we’re doing in developing and trialling them is necessary for our national security. Do you understand?”
Kate was still a little nervous, but understood the importance of her role and was keen to help in any way she could, thrilled at the mention of national security. Eagerly, she nodded and said “Yes.”
Allison was tired and just wanted this to be over. Barely suppressing an eye roll, she said “Yes,” flatly.
Officer Martinez looked down at the passport and back up to make eye contact with Kate on the left.
“Name?”
“Kate.”
“Full Name?”
“Uh, Sorry. Catherine Collins.”
“Age?”
“26”
“Height?”
“5’ 5’’ ”
“Weight?”
“Uh … 120 pounds.”
“Reason for travel?”
“Oh, it’s for work. We went to pitch this new project we’ve been planning about …”
“Kate!” Allison interrupted.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. The project’s confidential. It’s all under NDA. We went to pitch a new project to an important potential customer.”
“Thank you, Kate,” Officer Martinez said with a warm smile, Kate’s face lighting up in return. She shuffled the passports, turned to Allison and the pair locked eyes.
“Name?”
“Allison Walker.”
“Age?”
“52”
“Height?”
“5’ 10’’”
“Weight?”
“150 pounds.”
“Reason for travel?”
“Work.”
“Have you ever transported any nuclear, chemical or biological weapons on an aircraft?”
Allison blinked in surprise at the unexpected question. “No,” she said flatly.
“Thank you, Allison. Now, if you please, Officer Davis?” She left the order unspoken, but the TSA Agent had been briefed on her role and hurried over. Bending down first over Allison, she took the ends of the seatbelt, buckled them shut and cinched the belt tight over her lap. Allison raised an eyebrow at Officer Martinez, but otherwise decided against protesting as Officer Davis hurried over to buckle Kate down in the same manner, Kate’s brow wrinkling a little in confusion.
“Name?” Officer Martinez asked again, looking Kate in the eyes.
“Uh … Catherine Collins,” she replied, a little confused about where this was going.
“Age?”
“26”
“Height?”
“5’ 5’’ “
“Weight?”
“120 pounds.”
“Reason for travel?”
“Work.” she said, confidently copying the right answer from her mentor.
“Have you ever conspired against the government of the United States of America?”
“Uh … no” Kate said, with a nervous giggle at the absurdity of the idea.
“Thank you, Kate.”
Officer Martinez turned back to Allison.
“Name?”
“Allison Walker,” she said, injecting her tone with as much boredom as possible while still being passably respectable.
“Age?”
“52”
“Height?”
“5’ 10’’”
“Weight?”
“150 pounds.”
“Reason for travel?”
“Work.”
“Have you ever visited Cuba, Iran, Syria or North Korea?”
“No,” she said flatly.
“Thank you, Allison. Officer Davis?” She again left the order unspoken and again, Officer Davis jumped to comply. Walking behind Allison, she gestured to the headrest on the top of the chair. “Can you put your arms up here, ma’am?” Frowning slightly, Allison complied, lifting her arms up over her head. Officer Davis, standing behind her, took hold of her wrists and gently folded her forearms down behind her head. Allison heard the ‘click’ of handcuffs and felt a gentle pressure on her wrists, not the cold, hard edge of metal handcuffs but a softer, rubbery pressure. She gave Officer Martinez a long, heavy stare. “Is this really necessary?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Allison rolled her eyes, struggling to hold on to the last dregs of her civility.
“If you could do the same, please, ma’am” Officer Davis said to Kate, and she hesitantly complied, a little nervous at the direction this was going. Once both ladies were locked in, Officer Davis made some small adjustments, pulling Kate’s hands a little further down and raising the headrest higher under Allison’s elbows, with the effect that both women had their upper arms straight up, headrest jammed into the crook of the elbow and lower arms pulled down behind their heads. A wide strap or belt was then wrapped around the upper forearms of each woman, leaving them unable to pull their arms apart or down.
Next, Officer Davis returned with a set of long bolts, wingnuts, and four wooden boards, each perhaps a foot wide, six inches tall and two thick, with two padded half-moon openings cut in the long side. She put the first on the table in front of Kate, on it’s side with the half-moon openings up. “Can you put your feet up here, ma’am?” she asked.
“Uh …” Kate hesitated, uncomfortable, and looked over to her boss for reassurance.
“Are you quite sure this is all necessary?” Allison asked Officer Martinez, audible frustration in her tone.
“Yes, I’m afraid this is necessary,” she replied flatly.
“Oh, come on then. Let’s get this over with as quickly as we can,” Allison said, and Kate reluctantly raised her stockinged feet up onto the table and lay her ankles in the two channels. Officer Davis carefully placed the matching half on top, long bolts passing through holes drilled vertically through both halves of the stocks and through the holes drilled in to the metal tabletop, before she tightened wingnuts onto each bolt, clamping Kate’s feet comfortably but securely to the table. She repeated the process with Allison, who grumbled as she lifted her legs up onto the table, leaving the older woman’s designer shoes on her sockless feet. The two FBI agents watched dispassionately as the process went on.
“Well, we’re pretty thoroughly stuck now.” Allison said with a barely concealed sneer. “What on earth are you hoping to achieve? Were you afraid we’d run away?”
“We are investigating the psychology of vulnerability.” Officer Martinez replied flatly, as Kate fidgeted awkwardly in her seat, one foot idly rubbing the sole of the other. Allison sat still, irritated but collected, and maintained eye contact with the FBI agent.
“Name?”
“Allison Walker,” she said, as flatly as possible.
“Age?”
“52”
“Height?”
“5’ 10’’”
“Weight?”
“150 pounds.”
“Shoe size?”
“What? Uh, 12,” Allison said, slightly rattled. While she loved being tall, and had either come to terms with or ruthlessly fixed every other part of her appearance, her big, wide feet were the one aspect of her that she remained slightly self-conscious about.
“Have you ever smuggled narcotics across national borders?”
“No.” she said flatly, quickly regaining her composure.
“Thank you, Allison.” Officer Martinez switched her attention to Kate.
“Name?”
“Catherine Collins,” she replied, confused but still trying to be helpful.
“Age?”
“26”
“Height?”
“5’ 5’’ “
“Weight?”
“120 pounds.”
“Shoe size?”
“7” she said with a smile, wiggling her toes slightly at the officer. Kate rather liked her dainty, narrow feet, with high arches and delicate toes. She’d had an ex who was obsessed with them, and she had been happy to put on a show in return for other favours. She still missed the hours-long foot rubs that she used to be able get on demand.
“Have you ever been convicted of war crimes by an international court?”
“No.”
“Thank you, Kate.”
Officer Martinez stood up and walked around the table to stand next to Allison. Reaching down, she lifted up the bottom of Allison’s ivory blouse and folded it up twice, exposing a couple of inches of toned abs. Allison looked up at her and stared her in the eyes.
“Really? And this is still necessary?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“And this is within the remit of your authority?”
“Yes.”
“You better be right about that, because I assure you that once this is over I will be consulting with some excellent attornies to determine exactly where the limits of your authority are. And if I find you have overstepped by one iota with me or with Kate then I assure you there will be consequences.”
“I assure you, I am well aware of exactly where limits of my authority are and look forward to responding to your attornies’ inquiries,” she said, reaching down with one hand and spidering her nails lightly over Allison’s bare stomach.
“Whaha ?” Allison gave a half-laughing interjection of surprise and flinched slightly as the officer’s nails made contact, before quickly setting her jaw and forcing a return to a neutral expression. This time, Officer Williams started the interrogation from across the table while Officer Martinez continued to lightly, idly spider-tickle her stomach.
“Name?” he asked.
“Allison Walker,” she said, as flatly as possible, blocking out the irritating sensation.
“Age?”
“52”
“Height?”
“5’ 10’’”
“Weight?”
“150 pounds.”
“Shoe size?”
“12”
“Have you committed genocide?”
“No.”
“Are you ticklish?”
“What? No.” she said flatly
“Thank you, Allison,” Officer Williams said, and the tickling stopped. Both officers switched their attention to Kate.
“Uh, no, uh, you don’t need to do this.” Kate said, nervously as the Latina officer reached down, untucked her shirt and undid the bottom three buttons, folding the fabric to the sides and exposing Kate’s slim stomach. “You don’t need to check, I am tickli – hi – hi – sh!” She broke out into musical giggles as the officer gave her the same treatment, fingers lightly spidering over her belly.
“Name?”
“Ca – ha – hatherine Collins” she giggled out.
“Age?”
“Twe - he - nty six.” she said, squirming in her chair.
“Height?”
“Five fi – hi- ve “
“Weight?”
“One hundred and twe-he-he-nty pounds.” she said, as Officer Martinez kept dancing her fingers maddeningly, maintaining steady contact the squirming young businesswoman.
“Shoe size?”
“Se-he-he-he-ven”
“Are you ticklish?”
“Yes! Yehehes! You can see-he-he that! She’s ti – hi – hi -ckling me!”
“What’s the purpose of your travel?”
“Work! Wo – herk!”
“What kind of work?”
“Uh … we came to pi – hihi – tch the project we’ve been preparing” she said, as Martinez finally stopping her light tickling.
“Whew! What kind of experiment is this? That tickled!” Kate said, thinking her questioning was over.
“What’s the project?”
“Uh … I can’t say.” she said, looking across to Allison for reinforcement. “It’s confidential”
“What’s the project, Kate?”
“Uh …” she said, eyes flitting nervously between her unmoved inquisitor, the mentor she admired and whose approval she craved, and the looming Latina officer whose hands were still hovering near her bare stomach.
“I can’t sa- hahahaHAHAY!” Officer Martinez pounced with both hands, using a little more pressure on Kate’s bare stomach to draw forth a continuous stream of bubbling laughter.
“No! Hahahaha! Stop it! Stop it! No! Please!”
“What’s the project, Kate?”
“No! Haha! I can’t sayeeeee!” Kate’s laughter jumped up an octave as one of Officer Martinez’ hands started lightly squeezing her ribs through the silky shirt she wore, the other still tormenting her exposed stomach. Her hips bounced up and down slightly in the chair, but the strap over her lap held firm.
“What’s the project, Kate?”
“Crypto! Wearable Crypto! You put it on a shirt so everyone can see it! But it’s unique for everyone! The shirt is on the blockchain!” she blurted out reflexively, and immediately the tickling stopped. She drooped in her chair, gasping for breath, as shame turned her face bright red. She’d been trusted with company confidential information and she’d spilled their next big thing, in front of her boss, after just a little tickling.
“Thank you, Kate.”
She looked over, downcast, towards her Allison, expecting a stern admonishment, but instead her mentor turned her protective anger onto the FBI Agents.
“Are you proud of yourselves? Is this the next great leap in national security? That you can manage to tickle a company secret out of a girl like Kate?” she said, raising her voice for the first time, short, clipped words betraying her fury. Kate felt a little better as Allison came to her defence, but “girl” stung a little – she wanted her boss and role-model to see her as an adult businesswoman, not a little giggling girl who couldn’t take a little tickling.
Officer Martinez walked over to Allison, and Officer Williams switched his gaze over.
“Name?”
“No. We’re not taking part any longer. Let us go.” Allison snapped, patience finally running out.
“Name?” he asked again, showing no reaction to her outburst. Officer Martinez again started spidering her fingers over Allison’s bare stomach, causing the corner of her mouth to twitch up quickly before she firmly set her jaw.
“No! Let us go! There will be consequences for this, you know.”
“Name?” Officer William’s repeated, and Officer Martinez started kneading Allison’s toned stomach with a slightly heavier touch. Allison’s focused on her breathing, and Officer Martinez noticed it become slightly deeper and more regular.
“Name?” Officer Williams asked again, as Officer Martinez sent one of her hands up under Allison’s cotton blouse and gently scratched at her ribcage.
“Come on, this is ridiculous.” Allison said, no evidence of strain in her voice. Officer Martinez started squeezing her ribs, gently, one-by-one, and Allison clenched her jaw tightly shut, breathing forced and regular.
“Name?”
She shook her head, and Officer Martinez sped up her fluttering grip, moving both hands up and down both sides of Allison’s ribcage independently. Allison squeezed her eyes shut, hands clenched into fists behind her head, and focused as fully as she could on short, regular, angry breaths in and out of her nose.
“Name?” She shook her head again, and Officer Martinez’ hands fluttered up into her armpits before dancing back down to squeeze her ribs again then alternating independently between the two. Allison rocked back and forth slightly, body tense, alternately holding her breath, then letting it out in quick bursts, then holding her breath again in an effort to control her reactions. Kate watched this battle of wills, admiration for her mentor’s strength of will mixed with shame at how easily she broke in comparison. She felt a knot of tension sit in her stomach for a couple of minutes as the skilled officer worked thoroughly over her mature colleague, varying her tickling techniques as Allison teetered on the brink, but gradually the strong-willed businesswoman acclimatised to the sensations and slowly began to relax. Her eyes were still closed, but not screwed as tightly shut, her hands unclenched and she slowly started bringing her breathing more under control.
“Name?”
Allison shook her head, more slowly and measured.
“Officer Martinez? Are you done?” Officer Williams asked, a slight tone of disappointment in his voice as she lost ground against the older businesswoman’s resolve.
“No, I’m not done,” Officer Martinez responded. “Maybe her feet next?”
“No!” Allison’s eyes opened wide and a note of genuine fear entered her voice. Officer Martinez noted her reaction with a slight smile, and Allison suspected she was enjoying this more than necessary.
“Or her co-worker?”
“What? No!” Kate sat bolt upright as she felt Officer Martinez’ attention switch over to her. “No! I already did my part! You’ve already tickled me!”
Officer Martinez slowly unbuttoned the remainder of Kate’s shirt, working bottom to top, and spread the two halves apart, exposing a pale pink bra. Allison watched in angry silence, the knowledge that she could do nothing to protect her young protegee gnawing at her insides, while Kate’s begging and pleading felt like knives twisting her stomach. “No! Please, come on, no. I’m too ticklish. I can’t stand it! You’ve already won! You don’t need to do this!”
The Hispanic officer didn’t bother with any warm up this time, pouncing immediately into Kate’s now bare armpits and rapidly flicking her nails over the soft, warm skin. She burst out into frantic, high-pitched laughter and Officer Martinez held her there for several long seconds before easing back, leaving just a single finger on from one hand tracing lazily up and down her ribs. Throughout, Officer Williams kept his focus on Allison, who was watching Kate awkwardly from the side.
“Name?” he repeated, still directing his question at Allison.
“Now, come on, this is ridiculous!” she objected, and Officer Martinez immediately dove back on Kate’s armpits, sending her howling.
“You can’t expect … “ Allison’s attempt at reason was drowned out by Kate’s desperate laughter as Officer Martinez slid her hands down to squeeze Kate’s sides, causing her to thrash helplessly in her bonds. Again, after long seconds of intense laughter, Officer Martinez gradually eased back to send a single nail trailing loose orbits around Kate’s navel.
Kate, panting, hair dishevelled, looked imploringly across at Allison. “Please,” she begged in a small, despairing voice at her stoic mentor.
“Name?” Officer Williams asked again, and Kate cringed, making herself small in her chair and attempting to get as far as possible from Officer Martinez’s cruel hands.
“Allison Walker,” she said, reluctantly, and Kate felt an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude to her saviour.
“Age?”
“52”
“Height?”
“5’ 10’’”
“Weight?”
“150 pounds.”
“Shoe size?”
“12”
“What’s the purpose of your travel?”
“Work.”
“What kind of work?”
“Pitching a new project to a client.”
“Who is the client?”
Allison paused.
“I’m sorry, Kate; but I can’t say.”
“What? No! NohohohHOHAHAH!” Kate burst back into laughter as Officer Martinez dove in, sliding her thumbs under the waist of her skirt to dig in just above her hip-bone.
“NO! PLEASE! It’s Nike! It’s Nike!” Kate immediately confided, but there was no let-up for her.
“Who else are you pitching the project to?”
“I can’t say.” Allison said reluctantly, looking downcast
“I DON’T KNOW! I DON’T KNOW! I ONLY KNOW THIS PITCH! I’M NOT INVOLVED IN THE REST!” Kate said frantically between desperate bursts of laughter.
“Who else are you pitching the project to?”
Officer Martinez slid her hands down to Kate’s knees, exposed just below the hem of her skirt and slightly elevated with her feet propped up on the table. One hand lightly squeezed above one knee while the other hand scribbled lightly on the nylon-clad back of Kate’s other knee. The combination of sensations drove her wild, screams intermingling with her laughter.
“I can’t say,” Allison said quietly, averting her eyes from the torment being inflicted on her young protege.
After a long minute or two of tickling, Officer Martinez stopped, crossed back to the other side of the table and sat back down next to Officer Williams. Kate, opposite, slumped down, panting and disoriented. The two officers conferred quietly for a few seconds, then both stood up. “Please, excuse us,” Officer Martinez said, and they both left the room, Officer Davis trailing behind them. As the door shut, again both women heard the click of a key in the lock.
Kate hung limply in her restraints, drained from her ordeal, while Allison struggled with renewed vigour against the chair for a few seconds before accepting that she was still very firmly stuck.
“Are you OK, Kate?” she asked, genuine concern in her voice as she looked over her protege, mere hours ago confidently delivering her pitch with flawless style, now sitting sweaty and dishevelled, hair askew, shirt open, bra exposed, stockinged feet up on the table. “I’m sorry they put you through that.”
“I’m OK” Kate said weakly. “I’m sorry I gave away your idea with the crypto.”
“That’s understandable, Kate.” Allison said encouragingly, although inside she did feel frustrated at how quickly Kate had let slip.
“What do you think they’ll do next?” Kate asked, nervously.
“I don’t know,” Allison said, suddenly remembering Officer Martinez’s comments about her feet. She hated having her big feet touched, having to force herself through excruciating pedicures to stay on good terms with the excellent stylist who did such a good job with her hands and eyebrows. “But we’ll face it together,” she said, projecting a confidence she didn’t feel. “You’re stronger than you think.”
Kate warmed up at Allison’s compliment, sitting up a little straighter, when the door opened again with a click and the three officers came back in. The two FBI officers sat back down in their previous positions, and Officer Davis walked around to stand behind Kate.
“Is it over? Are you letting us out?” Kate asked, hopefully.
“I’m afraid not,” Officer Martinez said. “Kate, are your feet ticklish?”
“No! Oh no! Not that! Not more tickling!” Kate said, feet squirming in the table stocks.
“Are your feet ticklish?”
“Yes.” she said quietly, looking down at the floor.
“Allison, are your feet ticklish?”
“No,” she lied flatly and with confidence she didn’t feel.
“Kate, does this tickle?” Officer Martinez said as she flicked her forefinger up Kate’s nylon clad sole, heel to toe like striking a match, left then right then left again.
“Yes! Yehehes! Stop it!” Kate giggled.
Officer Martinez stopped and looked over at Allison “Allison, I’m going to ask you a question. If you don’t answer it, Officer Davis and I are going to tickle Kate for the next twenty minutes, non-stop”
“No!” Kate gasped.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Who else are you pitching the project to?”
“Please, Allison. Please. I can’t take it, I can’t take it, that’s too long, it’s too much. Please, I’ll go mad, I can’t take it, please!” Kate begged.
“I’m sorry, Kate. You’re stronger than you think.” Allison said with as much encouragement as she could manage, before turning to Officer Martinez. “I’m afraid I can’t say,” she said, sadly.
“No! No! Please! No, Allison, don’t to do this to me! Please!” Kate begged pitifully, but Allison simply looked down sadly.
“Please! I’d tell you if I knew, but I don’t know! I only knew what we were doing on this trip! I don’t know the rest of the project! I don’t know the other clients! Please!” Kate begged the officers, who sat unmoved.
“Can you start the timer, please?” Officer Martinez asked Officer Williams, who wordlessly pulled out his phone and tapped the screen a couple of times.
“No! No! NohohohAHAHAHA!” Kate immediately burst into heavy laughter as the two ladies dove in with enthusiasm. Officer Davis, who until now had been watching, barely believing her eyes, was more than happy to participate both to impress the FBI agents and to bring the haughty, rich businesswomen down a couple of notches. Standing behind Kate, she dove in with less skill than Officer Martinez but plenty of enthusiasm, hands grasping and pinching down Kate’s sides. Officer Martinez leaned forwards in her chair, stretched her fingers like a pianist lumbering up for a marathon concerto and skittered skilfully over Kate’s nylon-clad soles, fingers flying maddeningly around the dainty ankle, tip-tapping over the tops, nails digging in to the pads below toes but mostly skimming over nylon-slick sole and deep arch.
Allison shut her eyes, unable to watch Kate’s torment as her laughter rose, mixed with screams, and plateaued for long, cruel minutes, becoming rougher over time as Kate’s tormentors persisted unceasingly until her laughter was almost animal. Finally exhaustion took hold and blended soft sobbing in between the gasped breaths necessary to sustain soft aftershocks of laughter as her inquisitors dragged every last sensation from her helpless body. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity to Allison, she heard Officer Martinez’s emotionless voice interrupt Kate’s gentle sobbing. “Thank you, Kate.”
She looked over with trepidation and was shocked at what she saw. She was used to Kate, rising star and protege, always professional, always neatly dressed, quick to offer help or a surprisingly deep insight into a tricky problem. Now she was red-faced and sweaty as if she had just finished a race, tears sweeping sticky tracks through her subtle makeup, hair stuck at odd angles to her forehead or arms or chest or shoulders. Her chest stuck out because of her raised arms and as she panted exhaustedly her modest cleavage rose and fell in her pale pink bra, exposed for all to see. Her sides and stomach were red from Officer Davis’s enthusiastic treatment, and one nylon was torn and pulled back to the ankle, leaving her with mismatched feet.
Protective rage surged explosively in Allison “You fucking … you monsters!” she spat, near incoherent with rage. “You … Are you proud? Are you … ? Look what you’ve done! Look what you’ve done to her! Are you proud of that?”
“Who else are you pitching the project to?”
“Oh, fuck that. Fuck all of that. That’s not what any of this is about, is it? If you needed to know, you could just send a request to the company. Get the right permissions attached and we’d hand it straight over.”
“That’s correct.”
“So what’s the point of all this. Is this some kind of sick game?”
“Like I said earlier, we’re running a trial into some novel interrogation techniques. Who else are you pitching the project to?”
Stubborn and proud to the end, Allison responded “Fuck you.”
“Kate, can you hear me?” Officer Martinez asked, kindly.
“Wha?” Kate asked, distantly, mind blown far, far away by the intensity of what she had suffered through.
“Kate, can you hear me?”
“Yeah.”
“Kate, we need to take of Allison’s shoes.”
“No!” Allison interrupted, panicked.
“Is it OK if we take off Allison’s shoes?”
“No! OK, OK, you win,” Allison said, quickly. “You win, you don’t need to do that. We’re pitching to Adidas, Zara and H&M. They are the others we’re pitching to.”
Officer Martinez gave a slight half-smile of satisfaction, before quickly burying it under her professional mask. “Who else?”
“That’s all of them we’re pitching to at the moment.”
Pause
“Who else?”
“No, that’s all of them. That’s all of them.”
“I don’t believe you. Who else?”
“Nobody! Nobody!” Allison said, desperately.
“Who else?”
“Uh … Chanel,” said Allison, quickly making up what she thought Officer Martinez wanted to hear.
“You’re lying. Who else?”
“Nobody! I’ve told you! There isn’t anyone else! You’ve won! You’ve got what you wanted!”
“Kate, Allison is still lying to me. Can I take off her shoes?”
“No! Please! Kate! This is important!” Kate looked slowly, still half dazed, over towards her boss and mentor, still dressed effortlessly fashionably, hair still sitting neatly, with only a narrow strip of folded top exposing toned, bare midriff marring her appearance. In her eyes, however, was real fear. “Please Kate, you can’t let them do this to me! Please, Kate!”
“Can I take off her shoes?”
Kate looked back to Officer Martinez and, despite her exhaustion, gathered the last of her defiance to protect her mentor.
“No.”
Officer Martinez pounced immediately, aiming for the sole of the nylon-clad foot and the toes of the bare one. Kate, exhausted, could only break out into slow, low laughter.
“Kate, can I take off Allison’s shoes?”
“No! Please, stop, please stop,” Kate’s sobs mixed in with husky laughter.
Officer Martinez gestured to Officer Davis, still standing behind Kate, and she eagerly jumped in on Kate’s upper body.
“Kate, can I take off Allison’s shoes?”
“No! Stop! Please, stop! Oh god, oh god, please stop! FUCK! Stop!” she screamed in frustration “Do it! Take them off!”
“No! Kate! No!” Allison shouted. “How could you! How could you!”
“I’m sorry, Allison, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Kate sobbed “I couldn’t, I just couldn’t take it, I couldn’t, I’m sorry!”
Allison took a deep breath, and the guilt she felt at lashing out at Kate allowed her to barely bring her rising panic under control. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. It’s hers,” she said, casting a hate-filled glance at Officer Martinez, who was no longer able to control the shark-like smile spreading across her face.
“Who else are you pitching the project to?”
Allison put on her best professional battle face, honed over years of dealing with difficult clients and executives “Oh, fuck you. Do your worst, you sick bitch.”
“Oh, I will,” Officer Martinez said with a smile, as she stood up and switched places with Officer Williams to sit opposite the older businesswoman. She leaned forwards and cradled the heel of one slip-on shoe with one hand. Making eye contact, she slowly pulled the heel of the shoe towards her, and Allison felt fresh, cold air flow over her heel, warm from being in the shoe all day. Officer Martinez slowly reached out her other hand to hold the toe of the shoe and smoothly, almost ceremonially, lifted it up and away from Allison’s foot. She put it down carefully on the table beside the table stocks, in Allison’s eyeline and tantalizingly close to her feet but offering no protection at all. Icy fear churned in Allison’s stomach behind her stoic mask as Officer Martinez repeated the process, oh so slowly with the second shoe, leaving her with her bare feet trapped in stocks up on the table.
Hot embarrassment mixed with icy fear, partly from the unprofessionalism of propping her bare feet up on a table, particularly in front of a junior colleague like Kate, but mostly in the exposure of her hated big feet. Regular, torturous pedicures kept them clear of callouses or bunions, and her natural thoroughness meant her skincare routine did not skip her them, leaving the soles soft and oh-so-sensitive.
Kate watched with deep shame that it was her own weakness that had put Allison in such a vulnerable position. She was unable to tear her eyes away from the duel between the two women as Officer Martinez readied herself, hands poised over Allison’s soles like a typist over a typewriter, and her stomach churned as deep down she knew she would see her mentor, her role-model broken as thoroughly as she was herself.
“Get on with i-hi-t” Allison said, face twitching as Officer Martinez flicked her nails oh-so-briefly over the sole, slow pauses interrupted by quick, lunging taps. Allison’s impassive mask twisted a little around her eyes and mouth as she flinched from each light, fleeting contact, feet scrunching involuntarily. Officer Martinez dropped her hands to lightly scratch at Allison’s heels, rippling across from her index finger to little finger and back again, all four fingers fitting comfortably on Allison’s wide feet.
“Whoo - hoo – hoo!” Allison started to wheeze, a slow tremolo of laughter starting to blend into her carefully measured breathing, toes splaying but otherwise keeping her feet still through sheer willpower. Officer Martinez slowly wandered her hands up Allison’s soles, fingers still rippling fluidly side-to-side, thoroughly mapping the big, soft canvases she was working on.
“Wha – ha – ha – ha!” Allison’s laughter increased in volume and frequency a little as Officer Martinez progressed up her soles. “Who – ha -ha! I’ve got this! I can do this! I can do this!” she psyched her self up. “Is that the wo-hohoho-rst you’ve got?”
“No” said Officer Martinez, calmly, as she continued her steady, unhurried ascent of Allison’s soles.
“Wha – haha! I can do this! I can do this! Fuck! FUCK!” she said, desperately trying to pull her arms down, thrashing in her bonds, clamping down on a scream as the officer hit a particularly sensitive spot. Pulling herself back from the brink with a supreme effort of will, she cursed. “Ha! Aargh! Fuck! Fuck you! God dahahahamn you!”
Officer Martinez reached the end of her slow scan up at Allison’s toes and sat back, before getting up and walking around the table again to stand next to Allison. Allison cringed back in her chair like a lion before the tamer’s whip, at once proud and fearful as Officer Martinez reached out a gentle hand and tucked a loose strand of hair back behind Allison’s ear. She bent down and whispered “I know how to break you, now. I’ve got all the information I need. I’m not in a hurry. But when I’m ready, I know how to break you. And you know that, don’t you?”
The words struck cold terror into Allison’s heart, as deep down she did know they were true. However, Allison also knew that she was incapable of giving in without a fight, even if her stubborn resistance merely extended her torment and delayed the inevitable.
“You know that, don’t you?”
Allison squeezed her eyes shut, scrunching in on herself. She shook her head rapidly, defiantly. “No,” she said in a small voice.
Officer Martinez stretched one hand down to Allison’s exposed midriff and started spidering her nails. Allison squirmed in her chair, face still squeezed shut.
“You know that, don’t you?”
“No.”
Officer Martinez stretched her other hand down to Allison’s armpits, sweat soaking through her ivory blouse, and dug in to the centre of the damp patch. Allison clenched her jaw and her breathing steamed heavily out of flaring nostrils. Worst of all, she knew that Officer Martinez was just playing with her, that these insufferable sensations were nothing compared to what she could unleash.
“You know that, don’t you?
“Nuh-uh,” Allison managed through clenched teeth, shaking her head.
Officer Martinez toyed with Allison’s upper body for a couple of minutes, exploring abs, ribs, armpits as Allison desperately squeezed her eyes shut and just about managed to block out the sensations. Eventually, Officer Martinez stopped and Allison tentatively opened her eyes to see the Hispanic officer, wide grin on her face and eyes alight, sitting down across from her feet once more. Allison cringed back into her chair as Officer Martinez leaned forwards and extended two index fingers to hover precisely where she had noted Allison’s reactions were strongest before, in the centre of the sole just below the ball of the foot.
“No. No, don’t, please …” Allison gabbled, eyes full of fear.
“Gah!” she shrieked as Officer Martinez dragged her fingers quickly across the spots.
“No! Please! GAH!” she shrieked again as Officer Martinez swept across the spot sideways, then diagonally, leaving no ambiguity about the precise centre of her target.
“Oh God, please!” she begged, squeezing her eyes shut as Officer Martinez’s fingers lightly, lazily circled around the deadly spot. She dragged the moment out, tracing out circles, as Allison squinted, unsure if seeing or not seeing her inevitable torment was worse.
“Kate?” Officer Martinez said, interrupting her horrified stare as she watched her mentor, role model and idol, the strongest woman she knew, beg pathetically to not have her feet tickled.
“Kate, do you think Allison needs a break?” Officer Martinez asked, not stopping her slow circling of Allison’s feet.
“Yes!” Allison grasped desperately at her chance of reprieve like a drowning man thrown a rope. “Yes!”
“Kate, do you want me to tickle you instead?”
“What? No!” Kate said, shocked. Officer Martinez turned her gaze slowly back towards Allison.
“No! Oh God, please, Kate! Help me! Don’t let her do it! This is serious! I’m begging you, please! Don’t let her do it!”
“OK! Do it! Do it to me! Tickle me!” Kate said, her need to protect her mentor outweighing her own horror of being tickled.
Officer Martinez’s hands jumped over to Kate’s feet immediately, stretching over and diving in with no warm up. Kate’s previous lengthy torment and the tension of watching Allison be slowly brought to the edge of breaking meant Kate’s nerves were as highly strung as ever and she immediately howled and thrashed with laughter.
“No! No! Stop!”
“Do you want me to stop, Kate?”
“Yes! Stop, stop!” she screamed between gales of laughter.
“If I stop now, I’ll go back to tickling Allison. Is that what you want?” she said calmly.
“No!” Kate and Allison said in unison. “Please, Kate, don’t!” Allison said while Kate was only able to laugh and scream as Officer Martinez increased the pace of her assault.
“No! No! I can take it! I can take it!” Kate howled, but as Officer Martinez hit a particularly sensitive spot she blurted “No! Stop!”
Officer Martinez stopped immediately and a heavy silence hung in the room. Kate’s laboured panting was the only sound for several, long, seconds.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Allison!” she managed to find the breath to say
Officer Martinez turned back to Allison and rested the heels of her hands onto the heels of Allison’s feet, fingers poised just above the twin spots that both Allison and Officer Martinez knew would be her doom. Allison stared down her fate silently, finding her last shreds of stoicism to bravely meet the inevitable.
“No! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it! Tickle me! Do it to me!” Kate begged, but Officer Martinez and Allison had already locked eyes. The officer held the eye contact, poised, enjoying the tension for long seconds, before finally dropping Allison straight to the deepest pit of her own personal hell as she sent her fingers flying. Allison let out an animal wail, screaming and laughing, head thrashing and hair flying, body struggling against the restraints, feet flapping desperately but futilely as Officer Martinez hands rested on her heels and her fingers struck out one after the other to unerringly find the weakest spot on Allison’s flailing feet.
“Oh God! Fuck! You win! Stop!” Allison screamed incoherently.
Officer Williams, who until now had been watching silently and impassively, spoke up in a calm, level voice.
“Have you ever transported any nuclear, chemical or biological weapons on an aircraft?”
“What?! NO!” Allison screamed as Officer Martinez continued her focused assault.
“Have you ever transported any nuclear, chemical or biological weapons on an aircraft?”
“God! Stop! Stop! OK, YES! YES!”
“Have you ever conspired against the government of the United States?”
“YES! Stop! You win! Stop!”
Officer Williams continued, emotionless, down his long list of questions as Officer Martinez extracted confessions to each, Allison’s thrashing and screaming gradually fading into low, husky, exhausted laughter, her thrashing feet slowing to mere twitching but losing none of their sensitivity under Officer Martinez focused attention.
“Thank you, Allison” he concluded, and Officer Martinez finally stopped tickling her. She didn’t move her hands away, but instead started a slow massage with her thumbs as Allison slumped into her chair.
“Allison?”
She looked up at Officer Martinez, exhausted, ashamed, past anger, utterly defeated by the younger officer.
“You know that I broke you, don’t you.”
“Yes,” she said, eyes downcast. “You win. You’ve won everything.”
“Not quite everything.” Officer Martinez still had one last twist of the knife, one last betrayal to be certain of her victory.
“Allison, can I keep Kate?”
“What?” both Allison and Kate said, one deeply, deeply exhausted and one fresh and fearful.
“Allison, can I keep Kate? Can I keep her forever? Can I take her away from here, lock her up, keep her forever, tickle her forever?”
“No!” Kate’s jaw dropped. “You can’t do that! That’s not legal!” she said, outraged. “Is it?” she asked fearfully, eyes wide.
“Allison, can I keep Kate?” Officer Martinez asked, still rubbing Allison’s feet.
Allison finally started sobbing. “No, please. You’ve won everything. Don’t make me do this. Don’t make me do this. Please.”
“What do you mean?” Kate asked, confusion mixing with horror. “No, no, you can’t mean that, you can’t do that, she can’t do that, this isn’t happening!”
“Allison, can I keep Kate?” Officer Martinez asked.
“No” Allison said between sobs, eyes downcast. She cringing away as Officer Martinez’s thumbs slowly sought out and rested over the most sensitive weak-spots on her soles. “No NoNONONO! NO! NO! DON’T DO IT! DON’T DO IT! PLEASE!”
“Allison, can I keep Kate?”
“No” she wept.
Officer Martinez dove in with a fury.
“NO! NOAHAHAHAHAH! NAHAHAHAHAHAH! PLEASE! OK, OK, YES! DO IT!”
“For ever?”
“FOR EVER! FOR EVER!”
Kate’s jaw dropped in shock and horror, mind recoiling in horror from visions of an eternity of tickle-torture in the crazed hands of the sadistic Officer Martinez. Allison sobbed quietly to herself, and Officer Martinez sat back proudly, no attempt to hide her smug smile.
“Well. Thank you for your … enthusiastic ... participation in our trial, ladies.” Officer Williams said, looking across at the two broken women. Allison, tall and powerful, hair wildly askew, soaked in sweat, sobbing quietly to herself, big, bare feet up on the table, mindlessly, automatically rubbing one over the other again and again as if to wipe away the torture they had been subjected to. Kate, young rising star, staring slack-jawed, lost for words, stunned by her mentor’s betrayal, shirt unbuttoned and wide open with her mismatched feet up on the table, one stocking on and one torn off.
“It’s certainly been … informative,” he said, choosing his words carefully.
“Your flight is just about to board. Officer Davis will let you out and escort you to your gate, then you’ll be on your way on time!” he said with a practised note of cheerfulness, as if nothing unusual had happened. The two FBI agents got up, and left the room.
