Here's another oldie from the newsgroup era story, wherein office politics take a sadistically ticklish turn. Enjoy!
HOPE ON A ROPE
Part One
"It's not that you're a bad person," I explained while tightening the last knot. "I know that you don't MEAN to do the things you do, Hope. But this time you've really—and I mean REALLY—pissed me off."
Hope didn't answer. How could she, being as how I'd just slapped a nice wide piece of duct tape across her mouth? But even a bare back can be eloquent, and Hope's was tense with fear.
I stepped back to admire the setup. Perfect! My involuntary playmate was utterly helpless and exposed, kneeling on the bed with her bare feet dangling over the edge, arms high above her head, naked except for a pair of shockingly provocative pink panties. The rope with which I'd bound her wrists was secured to a hook set into the stout oak ceiling beam. Her ankles were bound to the brass bed rail. Her big toes were bound together with a length of string whose free end I'd tied to the bottom bed rail. I found myself staring fixedly at those beautifully formed feet. . .and longing to touch them, oh so very delicately, with my well-honed fingernails. . .
But there was time that. Oh, yes. There was PLENTY of time!
It was Hope's misfortune to be one of those women whom other women dislike on sight. She was thirty-two, but with the face, body and energy of a girl barely out of her teens—and the unbearably bubbly personality of the popular girl, the sweet-sexy high-school cheerleader who could wrap the boys around her little finger. Just
looking at her made me feel shopworn (though there was nothing wrong with my face, and my dark hair showed not a trace of gray), overweight (though I wasn't, not really) and washed up at the ripe old age of thirty-six.
Hope was blonde, blue-eyed, tanned, toned, deliciously curved, large-breasted, leggy—and she'd made effective use of her assets at the agency. With a toss of her long golden hair and a flash of a svelte thigh, she'd aced me out of the promotion I'd slaved to earn. Now she was the hotshot, fast-track creative director of the most progressive ad agency in town -- and I was her lowly, loyal and dutiful subordinate. I'd been at the agency for nine years. It took Hope less than a year to zip past me, right into the job I'd slaved and sweated to earn. She'd made me eat her dust, and I hadn't enjoyed the taste of it.
What really bugged me, though, was Hope's cluelessness. She wasn't some sly intriguer, just totally self-absorbed. It had probably never occurred to her that people like me don't like having their toes trampled on by a pretty girl on the way up. I was almost positive that she didn't understand why I was doing this. Well, that was one of my primary objectives: to clue her in.
As for the punishment I'd chosen for Hope, its genesis was a chance remark in a creative meeting (I'd been on hand to take notes). My boss, it seemed, was ticklish—EXTREMELY ticklish. And right there in that meeting, I had a vision. I saw Hope's bare feet wiggling and squirming in response to the gentle caress of my manicured fingernails. . .
Now that wonderful moment had arrived. I stepped forward. I extended my arm. I touched her bare right heel with a single fingernail. I traced a delicate pattern over that tender flesh. "UMMMMPH!!!" Hope screamed into the tape. "HMMMM-UMMMMPH!!!"
I ran my finger down the center of her sole. "UNNNNGRRRRMMMM!!!" she screamed, shivering in her bonds.
I stroked along the base of her toes. "GGGGRRRRUUUUMMMMPH!!!" Hope screamed. Her body trembled; her arms and legs crawled with goose bumps. My boss hadn't been exaggerating, then. She WAS ticklish—VERY ticklish.
Oh, this was going to be SO much fun!
I tickled Hope's feet for a few minutes more, until her gagged screams faded to faint, desperate grunts. When I stopped, she expelled a muffled sob of relief.
Now that I had her undivided attention, it was time to explain the rules of our little game. I picked up a stiff, pointed white feather from the dresser and climbed onto the bed. Hope's blue eyes went round with shock when she saw that I too was naked.
"Oops!" I giggled. "Didn't I mention that I prefer girls?"
"NNNNUUUUGGGGH!!!" she replied, shaking her head.
"Well, I do. Girls like you especially, dear." I favored her with a cold smile. "And, as you said just the other day, we really should get to know one another better. That's why I'm SO glad you could join me for this quiet weekend in the country."
Hope squirmed in her bonds. Her big boobs jiggled sweetly.
"Anyway, Hope, here's the deal." I held up the feather. She squirmed harder. "That's right, sweetie. I'm going to TICKLE you. I'm going to tickle you like THIS—"
I swirled the feather over the tops of her breasts. "HMMMMPH!!!" she grunted, writhing energetically. "UNNNNGGGGUMPH!!!"
"And like THIS!" I added, stroking her svelte belly. Hope writhed harder, making frantic sounds behind the tape.
"And, of course, like THIS!" I concluded, reversing the feather and using its hard nib to probe her navel. "UUUUURRRRGGGGH!!!" she screamed. "UUUUUNNNNGGGGH!!!
"Maybe you should save your breath, Hope," I suggested sweetly. "It’s going to be a long, LONG night—!"
Her eyes pleaded with me. "Oh, all right," I sighed. "Tell you what, dear—I'll remove the tape. Promise not to start screaming?"
She nodded eagerly. Smiling, I reached out and peeled the tape from Hope's mouth. There was no one to hear her out here, after all, and I SO wanted to enjoy the sweet music of my victim's full-throated laughter.
She started to plead with me before I had the tape all the way off. "Denise, please! Why are you DOING this?"
"See if you can guess," I answered with a grin.
"Let me GO!" she cried.
"If you guess right, I might."
"You can't DO this, Denise," she wailed. "REALLY you can't! I'm so TICKLISH! I couldn't STAND it!"
"That's the general idea, Hope." I lifted the feather to caress a nipple.
"Oh!" she cried. "Oh! Oh please don't DO that!"
"Don't you LIKE it, sweetie?" I inquired, swirling the feather in a circle.
"No!" she wailed. "Oh! Oh! Oh GOD! Oh STOP it PLEASE!" But her nipple was stiffening. And her hips were beginning to gyrate in a highly suggestive manner.
I turned my attention to the other nipple, brushing it delicately until it was as hard as its twin. Hope moaned and thrashed. Her silken skin broke out in an erotic sweat. And a delicious scent of musk rose to fill my nostrils.
"Want me to tickle your pink places?" I whispered.
"No!" she gasped. "Yes! Anything! Oh, PLEASE!"
I drew the feather down Hope's belly and ran it along her bikini line. "AAAAH!!!" she moaned, hips churning. "AAH-AAH-AAAAAAH!!! "
And that's when I stopped. Hope's body was quivering with anticipation. "Come on!" she panted, arching her back. "Come ON, Denise!"
"I don't think so, Hope. You were beginning to enjoy yourself." I stroked her thigh with the feather. "And that's not really the idea."
"You BITCH!" she hissed.
"Oh, is little Miss Hope UPSET with me?" I shook my head. "That's such a SHAME! Whatever can I DO to make it UP to you, dear?"
"Let me GO!" she screamed.
"Okay," I agreed. "If you'll do a little something for me, Hope."
"What?" she asked in an uncertain voice.
"Why, LAUGH for me, Hope" I said, reaching up for her shaved, tender armpits. "Just laugh your stupid little HEAD off!"
"No! Stop! STOP it!" she begged as my fingertips touched her skin. "NOT THERE!!! OH NO DENIIII-HEE-HEE HEEEESE!!! OH PLEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!! "
"Does it TICKLE?" I asked with an evil grin, moving my fingers in slow circles.
"OH NO!!! OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-OH-HO!" Hope howled.
"No?" My grin widened. "Then we'll have to try harder." I dug in with my fingernails.
"WAIT! STOP! EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!! IT TICK-HICK-EEEE-HICK-EEEE-HIIEEHICK-HICKLES!!!" she screeched, wiggling like a worm on a hook. "BWAAAAH-HA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA!!!"
Hope's face was turning bright pink; tears streamed from her eyes; her breasts bounced; goose bumps made the golden hairs on her arms stood up and quivered. I lowered my hands to her ribs and flexed my fingers.
"HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!" she screamed. ""PLEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEESE!!!"
"Please WHAT, Hope?" I asked, stilling my hands but not removing them from her oh-so-sensitive flanks.
"Gaaaa. . .aaaah. . .please stop. . ." she panted. "You're. . .making me. . .CRAZY! No more. . . Oh PLEASE no more. . ."
"But Hope, it's been less than an hour!" I cried in mock disappointment. "And I've planned such a LOVELY weekend for you!" I moved a hand to her breast and rolled a stiff nipple between thumb and forefinger. "Don't tell me you're reached your
limit ALREADY!"
"Oh. . .oh. . .oh! Denise, please!" she babbled. "Anything! I'll do anything! Just TELL me what you want! I'll DO it! I swear!"
"That's what you say now," I whispered, lowering my other hand to her thigh. "But what happens if I untie you?"
"Anything you WANT!" she insisted.
"Well, we'll see," I said after a moment. "But it really is too soon to trust your word, Hope." I picked up the feather.
"Not again!" she wailed. "Not AGAIN!"
"Only for an hour or so, sweetie," I giggled, climbing off the bed to stand behind her. "Just to make sure you MEAN it when you say you'll do ANYTHING for me."
"You'll be SORRY, Denise!" she cried. "You'll be sorry you did this!"
"Oh, no, Hope," I said, stroking the pad of her left big toe with the tip of a fingernail.
"NOT MY FEEEEEE-HEE-HEEHEE-HEEEEEET!!!" she shrieked. "OH NOT MY TOE-HO-OH-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO-HOES!!!"
"You won't tell, Hope," I explained as I tickled each toe in turn. "I've seen to that."
"EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!" she screamed, writhing with redoubled desperation. "HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!"
Poor Hope! It was going to be a long, LONG evening of laughter for her!
"Heee-heee-heeeeee. . ." Hope wheezed as I stroked the balls of her pretty feet with my well-honed nails. "Heeeeee. . .heeeeee. . ."
"Come on, sweetie!" I called out encouragingly. "You can do better than that! Show some interest, for God's sake!"
I ran the feather up and down the arch of her right foot. "Hee-hee-eee-hee-hee. . ." she wheezed, squirming in a decidedly feeble manner. "Hee. . .hee. . .hee. . ."
When I stopped tickling, Hope sagged in her bonds. I'd expected a sob of relief and perhaps some begging, but she just knelt there with her arms above her head, panting for breath. Had I overdone it? A glance at the digital alarm clock on the night table suggested that perhaps I had.
"Way to go Hope," I said with a hard slap to her cute behind. "You've survived a whole HOUR of foot-tickling! The rest of the weekend should be a breeze!"
She did sob, then. It was a beautiful sound.
"Don't worry, darling," I said. "It's break time. Just think! Five whole minutes without being tickled"
"You're. . .going to. . .KILL me. . .Denise. . ." she panted. "You'll have to. . .you BITCH. . .because when this is over. . . "
"Yes?"
"I'm going. . .to the police. . ."
"No, you're not, Hope." I patted her behind again. "You won't want to do that."
"What. . .are you. . .talking. . .about?"
"I'm talking about the fact that you wouldn't want our little secret revealed, dear." I stepped to the side of the bed and stroked a nipple with the feather. Hope shivered and moaned. "The secret of our discreet and oh-so-intimate relationship." I stroked the nipple again. "Shall I go on?"
"Don't stop!" she cried involuntarily.
I laid the feather aside. "That's right, Hope. You don't WANT me to stop. Do you? Do you, Hope?"
"Yes!" she moaned. "No! Oh, I don't KNOW!"
I reached under the pillow at the head of the bed and pulled out a small microcasette recorder. Hope, whose eyes were squeezed shut, didn't see me press RECORD and place it on the night table. I picked up the feather again.
"Want me to make you CUM, Hope?" I whispered, stroking her tense belly.
"Pleeeeeease!" she wailed.
"Well, first the panties are going to have to go." I made short work of them with a pair of scissors. Then I joined her on the bed.
Hope's eyes opened to find me kneeling face to face with her. Before she could say anything, I ran the tip of the feather along her bikini line.
"AAAAAAAAH!" she gasped, hips bucking.
"Ask me nicely and I'll make you cum," I whispered, reinforcing the promise with a quick wiggle of the feather.
"Make me CUM, Denise, pleeeeeease!" she begged. "Oh, that feels so GOOD!"
"First let's make sure that you're one-hundred-percent ready, Hope." I raised the feather to her breasts. "I want this to be SPECIAL for you, sweetie."
The first touch of the feather to her stiff nipples sent Hope into a frenzy. She wailed and thrashed, laughed and wept, pleading with me to stop, pleading with me NOT to stop, begging me to go DOWN from her breasts, DOWN past her belly, DOWN to the curl-covered mound between her thighs where the delicious tension was building and building and BUILDING—!
I recorded a good five minutes of this before yielding to Hope's entreaties and lowering the feather to probe her pink places.
"Tickle, tickle TICKLE!" I whispered, swirling the feather over her clit.
"Oh shit!" she cried. "Oh SHIT Denise! You fucking BITCH! Don't fucking STOP you're fucking gonna make me fucking CUM—!"
"Are you SURE you don't want me to stop?" I asked, slowing my hand.
"NO!" she screamed. "Don’t STOP! Oh PLEASE don't stop!"
"Well, okay," I agreed, probing deeper with the feather. "Since you say please."
Hope's body tensed. Her back arched. She licked her lips.
I probed a little deeper.
"GGGGRRRRUGH!!!" she grunted. "UGH-UGH-UGH!!!"
I twirled the feather—and Hope lost it!
Poor Hope! She made quite a bit of noise in the process of cumming her brains out—all of which went onto tape. When the last spasm had passed and she sagged in her bonds, I picked up the recorder, turned it off, and let Hope see it.
"What's that?" she gasped.
"My insurance policy," I said. "After this is all over, Hope, and you're tempted to talk to the cops, just remember that I have this recording."
"Omygod!" she moaned. "You wouldn't!"
"Not unless you give me a reason to," I agreed. "And I'm sure that you wouldn't want this to make its way into the hands of certain people at the agency, would you?"
"No," she answered in a small, hopeless voice.
"Well, it won't." I smiled at her. "As long as you take your punishment this weekend like a good girl and keep your mouth shut."
I ran my fingers down her sweat-streaked flanks. Hope writhed and giggled. "After all," I added, "You might even LIKE some of the things I've got planned for you!"
"Omygod Denise no MORE—!" Hope wailed.
"Lots more," I promised, raising my hands to tickle her underarms.
"HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Hope shrieked. "OH-NO-HO-OH-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-OH-HO!!!"
As I'd expected, the orgasm had redoubled her sensitivity to my tickling touch.
"YAAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-AHH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HHAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!" she howled as I reached up to stroke her arms from shoulder to elbow. "EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!" she added as I teased her navel with a fingertip.
After a few minutes of this I got off the bed and moved back behind her. "Don't tickle my FEET again!" Hope begged. "Oh no not my feet again PLEASE!"
"Not to worry, darling," I assured her. "I'm all done with your feet for now." I raised the feather and touched Hope's back between the shoulder blades.
“But I have to go to the BATHROOM!” Hope screamed. "If you don’t STOP I’m going to have an ACCIDENT!"
"Better not, darling," I whispered. If you make a mess, I’ll have to give you an extra punishment!"
"But I can’t HOLD it!" she blubbered. "Oh PLEASE Denise! I have to PEE!"
"Oh, don’t be such a BABY," I snickered, drawing the feather down to rest on the patch of extra-sensitive flesh just above the cleft of her buttocks.
"AAAAH-HAA!!!” she whined. "Oh, that TICKLES!"
I stroked.
"EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Hope screeched, writhing violently. "OH SHIT OH FUCK I’M GONNA PEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!"
I swept the feather down along her delicate cleft and back up again, not forgetting to devote some special attention to her puckered asshole.
Hope's bare butt twitched desperately; she gave a throaty, passionate gasp.
"Hmmm," I muttered, stroking steadily. "I think maybe that I've found your MOST ticklish spot, dear. Do you LIKE it when I tickle you back here?"
"HAAAA-UUUUNNNNGH!!!" Hope howled. "HAA-UUUUNNNNGH!!! GAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-UUUUNNNNGH-UUUUNNNNGH-UUUUNNNNGH!!! "
"But there's PLENTY of time to explore ALL of your most ticklish places," I added, stroking up and down, up and down. "We have the whole WEEKEND!"
Hope didn't answer. But a moment later, when she lost control of herself and peed the bed, I knew that she'd gotten my point.
"Oh, Hope, you've made a MESS!" I scolded. "Naughty, NAUGHTY girl! Now, how shall I punish you?"
She sobbed and gasped.
"Ah, well," I sighed, resuming my ticklish exploration of her anal orifice, "I suppose I'll think of something. . ."
And I did. Oh, yes indeed I DID—!
HOPE ON A ROPE
Part One
"It's not that you're a bad person," I explained while tightening the last knot. "I know that you don't MEAN to do the things you do, Hope. But this time you've really—and I mean REALLY—pissed me off."
Hope didn't answer. How could she, being as how I'd just slapped a nice wide piece of duct tape across her mouth? But even a bare back can be eloquent, and Hope's was tense with fear.
I stepped back to admire the setup. Perfect! My involuntary playmate was utterly helpless and exposed, kneeling on the bed with her bare feet dangling over the edge, arms high above her head, naked except for a pair of shockingly provocative pink panties. The rope with which I'd bound her wrists was secured to a hook set into the stout oak ceiling beam. Her ankles were bound to the brass bed rail. Her big toes were bound together with a length of string whose free end I'd tied to the bottom bed rail. I found myself staring fixedly at those beautifully formed feet. . .and longing to touch them, oh so very delicately, with my well-honed fingernails. . .
But there was time that. Oh, yes. There was PLENTY of time!
It was Hope's misfortune to be one of those women whom other women dislike on sight. She was thirty-two, but with the face, body and energy of a girl barely out of her teens—and the unbearably bubbly personality of the popular girl, the sweet-sexy high-school cheerleader who could wrap the boys around her little finger. Just
looking at her made me feel shopworn (though there was nothing wrong with my face, and my dark hair showed not a trace of gray), overweight (though I wasn't, not really) and washed up at the ripe old age of thirty-six.
Hope was blonde, blue-eyed, tanned, toned, deliciously curved, large-breasted, leggy—and she'd made effective use of her assets at the agency. With a toss of her long golden hair and a flash of a svelte thigh, she'd aced me out of the promotion I'd slaved to earn. Now she was the hotshot, fast-track creative director of the most progressive ad agency in town -- and I was her lowly, loyal and dutiful subordinate. I'd been at the agency for nine years. It took Hope less than a year to zip past me, right into the job I'd slaved and sweated to earn. She'd made me eat her dust, and I hadn't enjoyed the taste of it.
What really bugged me, though, was Hope's cluelessness. She wasn't some sly intriguer, just totally self-absorbed. It had probably never occurred to her that people like me don't like having their toes trampled on by a pretty girl on the way up. I was almost positive that she didn't understand why I was doing this. Well, that was one of my primary objectives: to clue her in.
As for the punishment I'd chosen for Hope, its genesis was a chance remark in a creative meeting (I'd been on hand to take notes). My boss, it seemed, was ticklish—EXTREMELY ticklish. And right there in that meeting, I had a vision. I saw Hope's bare feet wiggling and squirming in response to the gentle caress of my manicured fingernails. . .
Now that wonderful moment had arrived. I stepped forward. I extended my arm. I touched her bare right heel with a single fingernail. I traced a delicate pattern over that tender flesh. "UMMMMPH!!!" Hope screamed into the tape. "HMMMM-UMMMMPH!!!"
I ran my finger down the center of her sole. "UNNNNGRRRRMMMM!!!" she screamed, shivering in her bonds.
I stroked along the base of her toes. "GGGGRRRRUUUUMMMMPH!!!" Hope screamed. Her body trembled; her arms and legs crawled with goose bumps. My boss hadn't been exaggerating, then. She WAS ticklish—VERY ticklish.
Oh, this was going to be SO much fun!
I tickled Hope's feet for a few minutes more, until her gagged screams faded to faint, desperate grunts. When I stopped, she expelled a muffled sob of relief.
Now that I had her undivided attention, it was time to explain the rules of our little game. I picked up a stiff, pointed white feather from the dresser and climbed onto the bed. Hope's blue eyes went round with shock when she saw that I too was naked.
"Oops!" I giggled. "Didn't I mention that I prefer girls?"
"NNNNUUUUGGGGH!!!" she replied, shaking her head.
"Well, I do. Girls like you especially, dear." I favored her with a cold smile. "And, as you said just the other day, we really should get to know one another better. That's why I'm SO glad you could join me for this quiet weekend in the country."
Hope squirmed in her bonds. Her big boobs jiggled sweetly.
"Anyway, Hope, here's the deal." I held up the feather. She squirmed harder. "That's right, sweetie. I'm going to TICKLE you. I'm going to tickle you like THIS—"
I swirled the feather over the tops of her breasts. "HMMMMPH!!!" she grunted, writhing energetically. "UNNNNGGGGUMPH!!!"
"And like THIS!" I added, stroking her svelte belly. Hope writhed harder, making frantic sounds behind the tape.
"And, of course, like THIS!" I concluded, reversing the feather and using its hard nib to probe her navel. "UUUUURRRRGGGGH!!!" she screamed. "UUUUUNNNNGGGGH!!!
"Maybe you should save your breath, Hope," I suggested sweetly. "It’s going to be a long, LONG night—!"
Her eyes pleaded with me. "Oh, all right," I sighed. "Tell you what, dear—I'll remove the tape. Promise not to start screaming?"
She nodded eagerly. Smiling, I reached out and peeled the tape from Hope's mouth. There was no one to hear her out here, after all, and I SO wanted to enjoy the sweet music of my victim's full-throated laughter.
She started to plead with me before I had the tape all the way off. "Denise, please! Why are you DOING this?"
"See if you can guess," I answered with a grin.
"Let me GO!" she cried.
"If you guess right, I might."
"You can't DO this, Denise," she wailed. "REALLY you can't! I'm so TICKLISH! I couldn't STAND it!"
"That's the general idea, Hope." I lifted the feather to caress a nipple.
"Oh!" she cried. "Oh! Oh please don't DO that!"
"Don't you LIKE it, sweetie?" I inquired, swirling the feather in a circle.
"No!" she wailed. "Oh! Oh! Oh GOD! Oh STOP it PLEASE!" But her nipple was stiffening. And her hips were beginning to gyrate in a highly suggestive manner.
I turned my attention to the other nipple, brushing it delicately until it was as hard as its twin. Hope moaned and thrashed. Her silken skin broke out in an erotic sweat. And a delicious scent of musk rose to fill my nostrils.
"Want me to tickle your pink places?" I whispered.
"No!" she gasped. "Yes! Anything! Oh, PLEASE!"
I drew the feather down Hope's belly and ran it along her bikini line. "AAAAH!!!" she moaned, hips churning. "AAH-AAH-AAAAAAH!!! "
And that's when I stopped. Hope's body was quivering with anticipation. "Come on!" she panted, arching her back. "Come ON, Denise!"
"I don't think so, Hope. You were beginning to enjoy yourself." I stroked her thigh with the feather. "And that's not really the idea."
"You BITCH!" she hissed.
"Oh, is little Miss Hope UPSET with me?" I shook my head. "That's such a SHAME! Whatever can I DO to make it UP to you, dear?"
"Let me GO!" she screamed.
"Okay," I agreed. "If you'll do a little something for me, Hope."
"What?" she asked in an uncertain voice.
"Why, LAUGH for me, Hope" I said, reaching up for her shaved, tender armpits. "Just laugh your stupid little HEAD off!"
"No! Stop! STOP it!" she begged as my fingertips touched her skin. "NOT THERE!!! OH NO DENIIII-HEE-HEE HEEEESE!!! OH PLEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!! "
"Does it TICKLE?" I asked with an evil grin, moving my fingers in slow circles.
"OH NO!!! OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-OH-HO!" Hope howled.
"No?" My grin widened. "Then we'll have to try harder." I dug in with my fingernails.
"WAIT! STOP! EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!! IT TICK-HICK-EEEE-HICK-EEEE-HIIEEHICK-HICKLES!!!" she screeched, wiggling like a worm on a hook. "BWAAAAH-HA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA!!!"
Hope's face was turning bright pink; tears streamed from her eyes; her breasts bounced; goose bumps made the golden hairs on her arms stood up and quivered. I lowered my hands to her ribs and flexed my fingers.
"HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!" she screamed. ""PLEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEESE!!!"
"Please WHAT, Hope?" I asked, stilling my hands but not removing them from her oh-so-sensitive flanks.
"Gaaaa. . .aaaah. . .please stop. . ." she panted. "You're. . .making me. . .CRAZY! No more. . . Oh PLEASE no more. . ."
"But Hope, it's been less than an hour!" I cried in mock disappointment. "And I've planned such a LOVELY weekend for you!" I moved a hand to her breast and rolled a stiff nipple between thumb and forefinger. "Don't tell me you're reached your
limit ALREADY!"
"Oh. . .oh. . .oh! Denise, please!" she babbled. "Anything! I'll do anything! Just TELL me what you want! I'll DO it! I swear!"
"That's what you say now," I whispered, lowering my other hand to her thigh. "But what happens if I untie you?"
"Anything you WANT!" she insisted.
"Well, we'll see," I said after a moment. "But it really is too soon to trust your word, Hope." I picked up the feather.
"Not again!" she wailed. "Not AGAIN!"
"Only for an hour or so, sweetie," I giggled, climbing off the bed to stand behind her. "Just to make sure you MEAN it when you say you'll do ANYTHING for me."
"You'll be SORRY, Denise!" she cried. "You'll be sorry you did this!"
"Oh, no, Hope," I said, stroking the pad of her left big toe with the tip of a fingernail.
"NOT MY FEEEEEE-HEE-HEEHEE-HEEEEEET!!!" she shrieked. "OH NOT MY TOE-HO-OH-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO-HOES!!!"
"You won't tell, Hope," I explained as I tickled each toe in turn. "I've seen to that."
"EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!" she screamed, writhing with redoubled desperation. "HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!"
Poor Hope! It was going to be a long, LONG evening of laughter for her!
Part Two
"Heee-heee-heeeeee. . ." Hope wheezed as I stroked the balls of her pretty feet with my well-honed nails. "Heeeeee. . .heeeeee. . ."
"Come on, sweetie!" I called out encouragingly. "You can do better than that! Show some interest, for God's sake!"
I ran the feather up and down the arch of her right foot. "Hee-hee-eee-hee-hee. . ." she wheezed, squirming in a decidedly feeble manner. "Hee. . .hee. . .hee. . ."
When I stopped tickling, Hope sagged in her bonds. I'd expected a sob of relief and perhaps some begging, but she just knelt there with her arms above her head, panting for breath. Had I overdone it? A glance at the digital alarm clock on the night table suggested that perhaps I had.
"Way to go Hope," I said with a hard slap to her cute behind. "You've survived a whole HOUR of foot-tickling! The rest of the weekend should be a breeze!"
She did sob, then. It was a beautiful sound.
"Don't worry, darling," I said. "It's break time. Just think! Five whole minutes without being tickled"
"You're. . .going to. . .KILL me. . .Denise. . ." she panted. "You'll have to. . .you BITCH. . .because when this is over. . . "
"Yes?"
"I'm going. . .to the police. . ."
"No, you're not, Hope." I patted her behind again. "You won't want to do that."
"What. . .are you. . .talking. . .about?"
"I'm talking about the fact that you wouldn't want our little secret revealed, dear." I stepped to the side of the bed and stroked a nipple with the feather. Hope shivered and moaned. "The secret of our discreet and oh-so-intimate relationship." I stroked the nipple again. "Shall I go on?"
"Don't stop!" she cried involuntarily.
I laid the feather aside. "That's right, Hope. You don't WANT me to stop. Do you? Do you, Hope?"
"Yes!" she moaned. "No! Oh, I don't KNOW!"
I reached under the pillow at the head of the bed and pulled out a small microcasette recorder. Hope, whose eyes were squeezed shut, didn't see me press RECORD and place it on the night table. I picked up the feather again.
"Want me to make you CUM, Hope?" I whispered, stroking her tense belly.
"Pleeeeeease!" she wailed.
"Well, first the panties are going to have to go." I made short work of them with a pair of scissors. Then I joined her on the bed.
Hope's eyes opened to find me kneeling face to face with her. Before she could say anything, I ran the tip of the feather along her bikini line.
"AAAAAAAAH!" she gasped, hips bucking.
"Ask me nicely and I'll make you cum," I whispered, reinforcing the promise with a quick wiggle of the feather.
"Make me CUM, Denise, pleeeeeease!" she begged. "Oh, that feels so GOOD!"
"First let's make sure that you're one-hundred-percent ready, Hope." I raised the feather to her breasts. "I want this to be SPECIAL for you, sweetie."
The first touch of the feather to her stiff nipples sent Hope into a frenzy. She wailed and thrashed, laughed and wept, pleading with me to stop, pleading with me NOT to stop, begging me to go DOWN from her breasts, DOWN past her belly, DOWN to the curl-covered mound between her thighs where the delicious tension was building and building and BUILDING—!
I recorded a good five minutes of this before yielding to Hope's entreaties and lowering the feather to probe her pink places.
"Tickle, tickle TICKLE!" I whispered, swirling the feather over her clit.
"Oh shit!" she cried. "Oh SHIT Denise! You fucking BITCH! Don't fucking STOP you're fucking gonna make me fucking CUM—!"
"Are you SURE you don't want me to stop?" I asked, slowing my hand.
"NO!" she screamed. "Don’t STOP! Oh PLEASE don't stop!"
"Well, okay," I agreed, probing deeper with the feather. "Since you say please."
Hope's body tensed. Her back arched. She licked her lips.
I probed a little deeper.
"GGGGRRRRUGH!!!" she grunted. "UGH-UGH-UGH!!!"
I twirled the feather—and Hope lost it!
Poor Hope! She made quite a bit of noise in the process of cumming her brains out—all of which went onto tape. When the last spasm had passed and she sagged in her bonds, I picked up the recorder, turned it off, and let Hope see it.
"What's that?" she gasped.
"My insurance policy," I said. "After this is all over, Hope, and you're tempted to talk to the cops, just remember that I have this recording."
"Omygod!" she moaned. "You wouldn't!"
"Not unless you give me a reason to," I agreed. "And I'm sure that you wouldn't want this to make its way into the hands of certain people at the agency, would you?"
"No," she answered in a small, hopeless voice.
"Well, it won't." I smiled at her. "As long as you take your punishment this weekend like a good girl and keep your mouth shut."
I ran my fingers down her sweat-streaked flanks. Hope writhed and giggled. "After all," I added, "You might even LIKE some of the things I've got planned for you!"
"Omygod Denise no MORE—!" Hope wailed.
"Lots more," I promised, raising my hands to tickle her underarms.
"HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Hope shrieked. "OH-NO-HO-OH-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-OH-HO!!!"
As I'd expected, the orgasm had redoubled her sensitivity to my tickling touch.
"YAAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAH-AHH-HAA-HAA-AAH-HHAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!" she howled as I reached up to stroke her arms from shoulder to elbow. "EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!" she added as I teased her navel with a fingertip.
After a few minutes of this I got off the bed and moved back behind her. "Don't tickle my FEET again!" Hope begged. "Oh no not my feet again PLEASE!"
"Not to worry, darling," I assured her. "I'm all done with your feet for now." I raised the feather and touched Hope's back between the shoulder blades.
“But I have to go to the BATHROOM!” Hope screamed. "If you don’t STOP I’m going to have an ACCIDENT!"
"Better not, darling," I whispered. If you make a mess, I’ll have to give you an extra punishment!"
"But I can’t HOLD it!" she blubbered. "Oh PLEASE Denise! I have to PEE!"
"Oh, don’t be such a BABY," I snickered, drawing the feather down to rest on the patch of extra-sensitive flesh just above the cleft of her buttocks.
"AAAAH-HAA!!!” she whined. "Oh, that TICKLES!"
I stroked.
"EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Hope screeched, writhing violently. "OH SHIT OH FUCK I’M GONNA PEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!"
I swept the feather down along her delicate cleft and back up again, not forgetting to devote some special attention to her puckered asshole.
Hope's bare butt twitched desperately; she gave a throaty, passionate gasp.
"Hmmm," I muttered, stroking steadily. "I think maybe that I've found your MOST ticklish spot, dear. Do you LIKE it when I tickle you back here?"
"HAAAA-UUUUNNNNGH!!!" Hope howled. "HAA-UUUUNNNNGH!!! GAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-UUUUNNNNGH-UUUUNNNNGH-UUUUNNNNGH!!! "
"But there's PLENTY of time to explore ALL of your most ticklish places," I added, stroking up and down, up and down. "We have the whole WEEKEND!"
Hope didn't answer. But a moment later, when she lost control of herself and peed the bed, I knew that she'd gotten my point.
"Oh, Hope, you've made a MESS!" I scolded. "Naughty, NAUGHTY girl! Now, how shall I punish you?"
She sobbed and gasped.
"Ah, well," I sighed, resuming my ticklish exploration of her anal orifice, "I suppose I'll think of something. . ."
And I did. Oh, yes indeed I DID—!
