Po Lazarus
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- May 24, 2011
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Author's note:
The prelude to this story can be found here http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?326615-Prelude-to-a-fantastical-office-tickling-odyssey-(M-FF-First-story-in-15-years)
It occurs to me that I should endeavour to market my writing a bit better, so if I continue to work on this with further characters, I will list which celebrities they resemble in the title for people's reference and enjoyment. If you read the first piece you'll see that this is the first tickling story I have written in 15 years, so I would appreciate feedback from people, regardless of the nature of it. But most of all, I hope you enjoy it!
I
To start, he just swiped his fingers at their soles indiscriminately. His right hand busied the sole of Ruby’s right foot, as she was positioned, facing him, to his right, whilst his left occupied Jennifer’s left foot, as she was to the left of the box room. For the first few touches, his excitement was such that his hands were inadvertently shaking, and his fingers accidentally tickled much more aggressively than he had intended; he had meant to slow-burn. But the unconscious behaviour of his digits had started things a bit more intently. The girls both responded in kind to this, quickly switching from the gag-begging to high-pitched screams of trepidation as the nerves that covered their soles felt the touch of five fingers on each foot begin tickling a touch more keenly than they were obviously expecting. He enjoyed this unintended effect, however wanted to get a grip on himself and not peak too soon. He felt that tickling was, in its essence, as much a psychological experience as a physical one, and that applied to both the ‘ler and the ‘lee, or ‘lees, as this was. If he forced himself onto the girl’s feet with too much urgency, the tantalising subtleties of the situation would be lost. So he slowed it down. He withdrew his hands for a second, then unhurriedly began to dance his fingers in the centre of the girl’s soles, alternating between the left and right feet of each of his helpless superiors. Then he raised and lowered his hands whilst holding his fingertips to the flesh, going from the centre of the feet up to underneath the toes, then back down all the way to the heel, and repeating the process, noting the differing reactions in the girls. Ruby had shut her eyes tight, seemingly engaged in some form of mind-over-matter practice, which of course would not yield any results ultimately – she was clearly sensitive, and he was only going to exploit that fact more. Jennifer was responding in the opposite manner: her eyes had somehow become even wider than they usually were, and she was straining to look at what he was doing to her feet, as if to somehow negate the fact that it was obviously bothering her. She must have thought if she could see it then she could anticipate it and it wouldn’t bother her as much. He endeavoured to prove her wrong, and remove any possibility of the girls dealing with what was happening in any way.
He continued to scribble and wiggle his fingers all over the girl’s soles. He had wanted to start off light, but quickly found that his patience was starting to erode as the two women were attempting to defy him by remaining quiet on the laughter front. And so he deliberately increased the intensity of the movements of his fingers. His fingers became faster, and the pressure increased mildly; too much would have tickled less, of course, as any seasoned tickler would know. The girl’s feet had responded to the increase in pace – the material was holding their toes back pretty tight, but he could feel the feet of both girls moving as much as they were allowed, their heels shifting from side to side ever so slightly under the restraints as they desperately tried to move their feet away from the assault. The chairs that the girls were sat in had wheels on the bottom, which he removed, with a thought, as there was a danger with their newfound shifting that they would wheel away and tip the stocks over. The girls seemed to sense the further immobilisation, as their vocalisations in the gags increased in volume for a second, they were shrieking and begging into their gags, but still not laughing yet. He cocked an ear to hear what he knew was imminent, and he took in the sight of the girls as it happened. Ruby had still clasped her eyes shut, and he could see the skin on her face wrinkle as she resisted the increased sensations. Jennifer’s response was to rock her head around and arch her back, and he became grateful to himself for removing the wheels at the bottoms of the chairs, as she surely would have tipped herself by moving about so much in her chair.
Then he heard it.
The pleasing and addictive sound of muffled tittering had begun to emerge from both women at almost exactly the same time. It only lasted for a few seconds before it evolved into something far more full-throated and loud: it was becoming uncontrollable, frenzied laughter. This caused him to smile warmly, and again he couldn’t help but notice the variances in the girl’s reactions. Ruby had a high voice, and he knew from hanging out in her office in times past that she had a laugh to match (it had indeed caused him to fantasise about the situation he was somehow now living through) and he heard it now as it unwittingly escaped from her at an uncontrollable rate. She still had her eyes shut, but her head was thrown back as she alternated between cackling and screaming into her gag, drawing large breaths from her adorable nose in order to fuel the noise she was making. Jennifer had a slightly deeper voice but her laugh, when it came, was an octave up, giving it a feminine but ripe quality. She continued to shoot him a desperate look, her eyes doing as much begging as she would presumably have been doing linguistically had she been able to speak. He caught her eye, and she looked into his eyes and shook her head. He knew it was a plea to stop. But he had barely begun. He didn’t want to be unnecessarily cruel and so didn’t tease her verbally. He just smiled, and shook his head in return, the meaning clear to her. Her response was to continue to laugh – there was no alternative by now. He was tickling too much for her to do anything but. He started to think ahead.
After a few minutes of simple finger tickling, he was happy with the girls. They were both showing a more than adequate ticklish reaction to the stimuli, and he felt they had excellent potential to be further pushed towards their limits. He temporarily stopped, giving them a chance to get their breath back. The laughter continued for a few seconds, before the gag-pleading began anew. He thought he could catch certain phrases: an “Oh my God!!!” here, a “Please stop!!!” there, but he couldn’t be sure. He knew what he needed next; there was only one way to go from here. He produced the bottle of baby oil on the table behind the girls deliberately, so that when it fell from the air to the table and made a noise, they would know something else had been introduced into the equation. They responded to the sound with a jump. He slowly wheeled his chair forwards, in between the two sets of stockades. Jennifer tried to follow him with her eyes by turning her head, but she couldn’t turn around enough to see. Ruby’s eyes were still closed; she was still invested in her method of denying him the satisfaction of a look in the eye. He picked up the oil and drew back.
Jennifer saw the bottle but seemed confused, and Ruby was still blinding herself. He thought he’d start with Jennifer. He released the toes of one foot, observing for a second as Jennifer felt the bondage ease and adorably flickered her toes as they came loose. He tipped plenty of oil into his cupped hand, then tenderly took the foot by the heel and massaged the oil up the sole from the heel, all the way up to the perfect, tan toes. It felt good just to caress and run his hand up and down Jennifer’s foot, and he even began to massage a little, causing a small utterance of pleasure to emerge from behind Jennifer’s gag. He tied up her toes again and reiterated on the other foot. Her feet were now even softer than they had been. Unless she was closet tickle fetishist, Jennifer of course would not know why he was doing this, and she had a quizzical look in her eyes, but he could see the penny drop on her face as she felt the nerve endings on her soles become more receptive to physical touch. He skittered his oily fingers up her soles randomly, causing a garbled yelp. Then he turned to Ruby.
He was slightly surprised to see that she had opened her eyes and had been looking at what he had been doing to Jennifer. Perhaps Ruby had surmised that he was a general foot fetishist, rather than a tickler, and wanted to interact with their feet in a variety of ways. He wouldn’t put anything past Ruby in terms of her own taste – had she seen some foot content online? Either way, he would soon correct any suspicions she had begun to entertain. Once again, he removed the toe-ties of one foot and applied the oil, massaging a tad more forcefully than he had with Jennifer. Despite his persistent desire to tickle her to within an inch of her life, he respected and cared for Ruby. She had helped him out of a passel of different jams at work, and there had been so many times that he had wanted to pop her magnificent feet up into his lap whilst he was in the office for a chat and give her a really intense foot rub as a reward for being an awesome boss. He now allowed them both the pleasure. Ruby began to moan and groan through her gag as his fingers stiffly massaged the oil up and down her sole, up her instep, surrounding each toe, clamping her heel in both hands. He switched feet, restricting the toes of the foot he had just done and liberating the other one, getting plenty of oil all over the foot and giving it a nice, heavy rubbing. Then he tied the toes up again. The girls weren’t stupid: they knew what was coming. He just wanted something else. One reason he had always disliked tickling media in which women were tickled by men was that the majority of men had short fingernails, which did not cause the kind of devastation of the long, manicured efforts of their female counterparts. He pondered how to counter this for a second, then he had it. He concentrated, and on his fingertips there appeared metal thimbles, with small, spiked tips. He had seen similar contraptions in tickling videos, and the very ones that he had imagined had appeared. They would perfectly replicate the sensation that long fingernails would cause. He was still adjusting to the surrealism of the situation, but he didn’t want to waste too much time thinking about it. He wanted to continue to enjoy himself. So he got back to it.
He put his fingers back to the restrained tan and white soles. The girls absolutely exploded. Just touching seemed to be enough to cause this, but as he began to actually move his fingers in a classic tickling motion, they both skipped the ‘tittering into the gag’ phase and, after screaming as loudly as they could, began to guffaw heavily. He made similar movements to those of his primary assault: sometimes he would tease the flesh of the arch and instep, sometimes he would hold his fingers still and hold them underneath the toes, before drawing the metal tips down the expanse of the sole all the way down to the heel. Sometimes he would move in the same motion but waggle his fingers at the same time, intensifying the response and causing flat-out bellowing to come from the mouths of the women. The foot that was under attack at any one time would shake and rock violently at his touch, with the heel again swaying slightly from side-to-side. Sometimes to counter this, he would give one of the girls a brief respite, and hold the other, unfortunate girl’s foot tightly at the top with one hand, whilst scratching at the sole with the metal thimble-ends on the other hand. This produced an almost frightening level of response in either target. When he did it to Ruby, who had long since abandoned the tactic of holding her eyes shut, she would look at him pleadingly between bursts of howling, her high-pitched laughter going up an octave as she felt the maddening sensations of the tickling combine with complete, utter immobility. Jennifer’s behaviour was even less restrained: she would unleash a full-throated scream into her gag either side of glorious laughter, and would thrash about in the chair as much as her restraints allowed. Both girl’s wrists were securely and tightly bound to their chair arms, however they were able to buck their knees and raise their backsides up when the sensations became too much. After a few minutes of this, it was time for a short break whilst he concocted further plans.
Again, the girls seemed grateful of a short period of respite, getting their breath back and sinking back in their chairs slightly, as if tired from the oiled finger tickling. They did not know what he had in store as he removed the thimbles from his fingers and dropped them to the floor. He thought for a minute of his favourite tickling clips, which were the inspiration for his actions (indeed, it was as if he had somehow stepped into a clip of his very own making and creative direction) and knew that he would need some more tools before he was done. Once more, he merely thought of them and the new aptitude he had been blessed with provided them: they again appeared in mid-air, behind the girls, and dropped to the table with a clatter. The stocked bombshells were developing an almost Pavlovian response to any noise behind them, and they both shuddered at the sound, before reinitiating the gag-begging. He could definitely hear his name being shouted, “No More!!!” and “Please!!!”, among other incoherent squeals and associated yelling. They were obviously becoming conditioned so as to associate any noise behind them with an increase in tickling intensity, and their anxiety was increasing. He savoured this as it became apparent, and he couldn’t blame them as they were, of course, correct in their assumption. He decided he wanted a box from which to take random items, and it appeared in front of the table. He flicked a hand and the items all moved forwards on the desk until they fell into the box, the noisy effect again causing the girls to physically start. They were both trying to turn and see what was coming but couldn’t, and their alarm was sumptuous as he made the box float from the desk, past the stocks, and to his side, without them being able to see what was in the box. He kept it floating, in mid-air, next to him. He decided that when he took items out, he wouldn’t look beforehand at what they were, so as to surprise himself almost as much as the girls were going to be. They were going to get louder, so he padded out the door and walls with soundproof material. With every action, he felt he was getting stronger, and could be more inventive. The girls looked at the new decoration in the room with disbelief, as if they were questioning their own sanity. He was now going to strive to make them question it further, by tickling them to their absolute limits.
The prelude to this story can be found here http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?326615-Prelude-to-a-fantastical-office-tickling-odyssey-(M-FF-First-story-in-15-years)
It occurs to me that I should endeavour to market my writing a bit better, so if I continue to work on this with further characters, I will list which celebrities they resemble in the title for people's reference and enjoyment. If you read the first piece you'll see that this is the first tickling story I have written in 15 years, so I would appreciate feedback from people, regardless of the nature of it. But most of all, I hope you enjoy it!
I
To start, he just swiped his fingers at their soles indiscriminately. His right hand busied the sole of Ruby’s right foot, as she was positioned, facing him, to his right, whilst his left occupied Jennifer’s left foot, as she was to the left of the box room. For the first few touches, his excitement was such that his hands were inadvertently shaking, and his fingers accidentally tickled much more aggressively than he had intended; he had meant to slow-burn. But the unconscious behaviour of his digits had started things a bit more intently. The girls both responded in kind to this, quickly switching from the gag-begging to high-pitched screams of trepidation as the nerves that covered their soles felt the touch of five fingers on each foot begin tickling a touch more keenly than they were obviously expecting. He enjoyed this unintended effect, however wanted to get a grip on himself and not peak too soon. He felt that tickling was, in its essence, as much a psychological experience as a physical one, and that applied to both the ‘ler and the ‘lee, or ‘lees, as this was. If he forced himself onto the girl’s feet with too much urgency, the tantalising subtleties of the situation would be lost. So he slowed it down. He withdrew his hands for a second, then unhurriedly began to dance his fingers in the centre of the girl’s soles, alternating between the left and right feet of each of his helpless superiors. Then he raised and lowered his hands whilst holding his fingertips to the flesh, going from the centre of the feet up to underneath the toes, then back down all the way to the heel, and repeating the process, noting the differing reactions in the girls. Ruby had shut her eyes tight, seemingly engaged in some form of mind-over-matter practice, which of course would not yield any results ultimately – she was clearly sensitive, and he was only going to exploit that fact more. Jennifer was responding in the opposite manner: her eyes had somehow become even wider than they usually were, and she was straining to look at what he was doing to her feet, as if to somehow negate the fact that it was obviously bothering her. She must have thought if she could see it then she could anticipate it and it wouldn’t bother her as much. He endeavoured to prove her wrong, and remove any possibility of the girls dealing with what was happening in any way.
He continued to scribble and wiggle his fingers all over the girl’s soles. He had wanted to start off light, but quickly found that his patience was starting to erode as the two women were attempting to defy him by remaining quiet on the laughter front. And so he deliberately increased the intensity of the movements of his fingers. His fingers became faster, and the pressure increased mildly; too much would have tickled less, of course, as any seasoned tickler would know. The girl’s feet had responded to the increase in pace – the material was holding their toes back pretty tight, but he could feel the feet of both girls moving as much as they were allowed, their heels shifting from side to side ever so slightly under the restraints as they desperately tried to move their feet away from the assault. The chairs that the girls were sat in had wheels on the bottom, which he removed, with a thought, as there was a danger with their newfound shifting that they would wheel away and tip the stocks over. The girls seemed to sense the further immobilisation, as their vocalisations in the gags increased in volume for a second, they were shrieking and begging into their gags, but still not laughing yet. He cocked an ear to hear what he knew was imminent, and he took in the sight of the girls as it happened. Ruby had still clasped her eyes shut, and he could see the skin on her face wrinkle as she resisted the increased sensations. Jennifer’s response was to rock her head around and arch her back, and he became grateful to himself for removing the wheels at the bottoms of the chairs, as she surely would have tipped herself by moving about so much in her chair.
Then he heard it.
The pleasing and addictive sound of muffled tittering had begun to emerge from both women at almost exactly the same time. It only lasted for a few seconds before it evolved into something far more full-throated and loud: it was becoming uncontrollable, frenzied laughter. This caused him to smile warmly, and again he couldn’t help but notice the variances in the girl’s reactions. Ruby had a high voice, and he knew from hanging out in her office in times past that she had a laugh to match (it had indeed caused him to fantasise about the situation he was somehow now living through) and he heard it now as it unwittingly escaped from her at an uncontrollable rate. She still had her eyes shut, but her head was thrown back as she alternated between cackling and screaming into her gag, drawing large breaths from her adorable nose in order to fuel the noise she was making. Jennifer had a slightly deeper voice but her laugh, when it came, was an octave up, giving it a feminine but ripe quality. She continued to shoot him a desperate look, her eyes doing as much begging as she would presumably have been doing linguistically had she been able to speak. He caught her eye, and she looked into his eyes and shook her head. He knew it was a plea to stop. But he had barely begun. He didn’t want to be unnecessarily cruel and so didn’t tease her verbally. He just smiled, and shook his head in return, the meaning clear to her. Her response was to continue to laugh – there was no alternative by now. He was tickling too much for her to do anything but. He started to think ahead.
After a few minutes of simple finger tickling, he was happy with the girls. They were both showing a more than adequate ticklish reaction to the stimuli, and he felt they had excellent potential to be further pushed towards their limits. He temporarily stopped, giving them a chance to get their breath back. The laughter continued for a few seconds, before the gag-pleading began anew. He thought he could catch certain phrases: an “Oh my God!!!” here, a “Please stop!!!” there, but he couldn’t be sure. He knew what he needed next; there was only one way to go from here. He produced the bottle of baby oil on the table behind the girls deliberately, so that when it fell from the air to the table and made a noise, they would know something else had been introduced into the equation. They responded to the sound with a jump. He slowly wheeled his chair forwards, in between the two sets of stockades. Jennifer tried to follow him with her eyes by turning her head, but she couldn’t turn around enough to see. Ruby’s eyes were still closed; she was still invested in her method of denying him the satisfaction of a look in the eye. He picked up the oil and drew back.
Jennifer saw the bottle but seemed confused, and Ruby was still blinding herself. He thought he’d start with Jennifer. He released the toes of one foot, observing for a second as Jennifer felt the bondage ease and adorably flickered her toes as they came loose. He tipped plenty of oil into his cupped hand, then tenderly took the foot by the heel and massaged the oil up the sole from the heel, all the way up to the perfect, tan toes. It felt good just to caress and run his hand up and down Jennifer’s foot, and he even began to massage a little, causing a small utterance of pleasure to emerge from behind Jennifer’s gag. He tied up her toes again and reiterated on the other foot. Her feet were now even softer than they had been. Unless she was closet tickle fetishist, Jennifer of course would not know why he was doing this, and she had a quizzical look in her eyes, but he could see the penny drop on her face as she felt the nerve endings on her soles become more receptive to physical touch. He skittered his oily fingers up her soles randomly, causing a garbled yelp. Then he turned to Ruby.
He was slightly surprised to see that she had opened her eyes and had been looking at what he had been doing to Jennifer. Perhaps Ruby had surmised that he was a general foot fetishist, rather than a tickler, and wanted to interact with their feet in a variety of ways. He wouldn’t put anything past Ruby in terms of her own taste – had she seen some foot content online? Either way, he would soon correct any suspicions she had begun to entertain. Once again, he removed the toe-ties of one foot and applied the oil, massaging a tad more forcefully than he had with Jennifer. Despite his persistent desire to tickle her to within an inch of her life, he respected and cared for Ruby. She had helped him out of a passel of different jams at work, and there had been so many times that he had wanted to pop her magnificent feet up into his lap whilst he was in the office for a chat and give her a really intense foot rub as a reward for being an awesome boss. He now allowed them both the pleasure. Ruby began to moan and groan through her gag as his fingers stiffly massaged the oil up and down her sole, up her instep, surrounding each toe, clamping her heel in both hands. He switched feet, restricting the toes of the foot he had just done and liberating the other one, getting plenty of oil all over the foot and giving it a nice, heavy rubbing. Then he tied the toes up again. The girls weren’t stupid: they knew what was coming. He just wanted something else. One reason he had always disliked tickling media in which women were tickled by men was that the majority of men had short fingernails, which did not cause the kind of devastation of the long, manicured efforts of their female counterparts. He pondered how to counter this for a second, then he had it. He concentrated, and on his fingertips there appeared metal thimbles, with small, spiked tips. He had seen similar contraptions in tickling videos, and the very ones that he had imagined had appeared. They would perfectly replicate the sensation that long fingernails would cause. He was still adjusting to the surrealism of the situation, but he didn’t want to waste too much time thinking about it. He wanted to continue to enjoy himself. So he got back to it.
He put his fingers back to the restrained tan and white soles. The girls absolutely exploded. Just touching seemed to be enough to cause this, but as he began to actually move his fingers in a classic tickling motion, they both skipped the ‘tittering into the gag’ phase and, after screaming as loudly as they could, began to guffaw heavily. He made similar movements to those of his primary assault: sometimes he would tease the flesh of the arch and instep, sometimes he would hold his fingers still and hold them underneath the toes, before drawing the metal tips down the expanse of the sole all the way down to the heel. Sometimes he would move in the same motion but waggle his fingers at the same time, intensifying the response and causing flat-out bellowing to come from the mouths of the women. The foot that was under attack at any one time would shake and rock violently at his touch, with the heel again swaying slightly from side-to-side. Sometimes to counter this, he would give one of the girls a brief respite, and hold the other, unfortunate girl’s foot tightly at the top with one hand, whilst scratching at the sole with the metal thimble-ends on the other hand. This produced an almost frightening level of response in either target. When he did it to Ruby, who had long since abandoned the tactic of holding her eyes shut, she would look at him pleadingly between bursts of howling, her high-pitched laughter going up an octave as she felt the maddening sensations of the tickling combine with complete, utter immobility. Jennifer’s behaviour was even less restrained: she would unleash a full-throated scream into her gag either side of glorious laughter, and would thrash about in the chair as much as her restraints allowed. Both girl’s wrists were securely and tightly bound to their chair arms, however they were able to buck their knees and raise their backsides up when the sensations became too much. After a few minutes of this, it was time for a short break whilst he concocted further plans.
Again, the girls seemed grateful of a short period of respite, getting their breath back and sinking back in their chairs slightly, as if tired from the oiled finger tickling. They did not know what he had in store as he removed the thimbles from his fingers and dropped them to the floor. He thought for a minute of his favourite tickling clips, which were the inspiration for his actions (indeed, it was as if he had somehow stepped into a clip of his very own making and creative direction) and knew that he would need some more tools before he was done. Once more, he merely thought of them and the new aptitude he had been blessed with provided them: they again appeared in mid-air, behind the girls, and dropped to the table with a clatter. The stocked bombshells were developing an almost Pavlovian response to any noise behind them, and they both shuddered at the sound, before reinitiating the gag-begging. He could definitely hear his name being shouted, “No More!!!” and “Please!!!”, among other incoherent squeals and associated yelling. They were obviously becoming conditioned so as to associate any noise behind them with an increase in tickling intensity, and their anxiety was increasing. He savoured this as it became apparent, and he couldn’t blame them as they were, of course, correct in their assumption. He decided he wanted a box from which to take random items, and it appeared in front of the table. He flicked a hand and the items all moved forwards on the desk until they fell into the box, the noisy effect again causing the girls to physically start. They were both trying to turn and see what was coming but couldn’t, and their alarm was sumptuous as he made the box float from the desk, past the stocks, and to his side, without them being able to see what was in the box. He kept it floating, in mid-air, next to him. He decided that when he took items out, he wouldn’t look beforehand at what they were, so as to surprise himself almost as much as the girls were going to be. They were going to get louder, so he padded out the door and walls with soundproof material. With every action, he felt he was getting stronger, and could be more inventive. The girls looked at the new decoration in the room with disbelief, as if they were questioning their own sanity. He was now going to strive to make them question it further, by tickling them to their absolute limits.
