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Hope everyone had a happy Halloween. I was working on this story to post over the weekend but it grew into a monster (despite being written instead of my original idea which I might write next year)
Yes I am planning to finish the Christmas stories and Alexandra's dreaded pedicure.
This story is set in the same universe as the Krampella ones. See Kathy down below and these ones if you need reminding but you don't need to have read them.
This one is a stand-alone
- - - -
Millie sighed as she pushed the twins along in their pram, walking with the other Mums. The gruesome two-some had kept her up all night, again! Not only that; but the lack of sleep meant her mind was playing tricks on her, she kept seeing odd things out of the corner of her eye that triggered her many phobias. First; as Millie was prepared the twins’ cereal she thought she saw a picture of herself on the milk, like in those American TV programmes in which ‘missing persons’ where shown on the carton. Then the TV screen seemed to show a woman in bondage, Millie had dashed to turn it off to stop it scaring her children, but found it was nothing but a shampoo commercial. Millie was sure that it had been a woman (who looked a lot like her) bound with rope and gagged with a big red ball. Millie hated seeing people tied up; bondage being one of her many phobias. Anything involving restraining women or torture made her blood turn cold, she even hated those old cartons where the heroin was tied to the railway tracks.
Today Millie seemed to see such things everywhere. Whilst checking for the nearest photo booth for an errand that morning, Millie eyes were assaulted by a pop-up ad that briefly showed a pair of feet twitching as a woman was suspended by her ankles. Millie only saw it for a second before it seemed to turn into a foot cream advert. For a brief second though, a pair of soles a lot like her own seemed to desperately curl and flex in bondage.
Millie shivered slightly as the cool autumn breeze snapped at her feet in their sandals. The memories of the half-seen hallucinations tugging at her sanity. It was a nice bright day but the morning air was cold and Millie gave a slightly unsettling sense of foreboding about the day. The sun felt good on Millie’s face, but the ground was still damp making the slim woman pick her path careful to avoid ruining her sandals or getting her feet dirty. Millie took good care of her feet and would resent having to trade her comfortable and stylish sandals for her barefoot-boots soon, today probably being the last day of the year she could display her pretty feet. Millie liked to feel the ground beneath her feet and preferred thin-soled sandals which let her toes spread out. Today she wore her favourite pair that had good, comfortable, thin straps for her slender ankles that kept her feet feeling both free and protected whilst also being stylish and sheik: they were light blue with brown leather soles which matched her stylish jeans and top. Millie liked looking good and secretly enjoyed the glances she got at her neatly painted toes and slender soft feet. Mille was average height with light brown hair, she was slim and spry with pretty, but non-distinctive face. Somehow though, she would always blend in; her well maintained feet and tendency to wear sandals being the most distinctive thing about her. Millie’s sexy soles had proved to be a god-send for her after her jerk of an ex-boyfriend disappeared after finding out she was pregnant.
That had been the hardest year of her life. Millie, although very bright, had not paid attention at school, preferring to chat and gossip through lessons. Over the years she had put up with a few tedious jobs here and there, but had largely planned on being a house-wife to a successful man, finding the jobs she was qualified for to be repetitive, frustrating and tedious. It came as a deep disappointment to have that successful man disappear the second responsibility reared its boring head. She found that he had even been using a fake name when they were together and had been unable to track him to make him pay child support. A throw-away joke a tall blonde in her Mum’s group had turned things around for Millie, she had made some crack about Millie ‘selling pictures of her feet on the internet’ both a reference to Millie’s most notable feature ,and also a bizarre online practise that Millie would have never looked into due to her phobias. Still this joke led to the slim brunette to curiously look into a kinky side-hustle she would have never normally considered.
On reflection she wasn’t sure what had made her do it: a little voice just kept saying ‘Do it!’ in her head. Millie was careful and never gave too much away on the profiles she had set up on this site and that. She never allowed anything be in the pictures that could trace them back to her and did not encourage the men (and possibly women) who paid for the shots of her sexy soles and toes. She found she needed to set up new profiles almost on a monthly basis as the ‘pervs’ she sold the pictures always seemed to get obsessed with her. A lot of them wanted to lick her feet, which she didn’t like the idea of…. Others had the weirdest requests….
Millie had paid of her credit card by peeling a banana with her clever toes. Millie could write with her feet, her toes were not excessively long but she could do things with them that these freaks would pay her for. In her mind, they were not real people, just jokes. Sometimes they would write her long essays about how perfect her feet were, which whilst daunting, made her secretly think: ‘I know!’
People would ask her to do some things she would refuse to, and ask questions she refused to answer. The most commonly asked question was always
‘Are you ticklish?’ to which Millie would reply;
‘Not very, and only for a short while if it surprises me’
This was in fact…. the truth.
Millie although super-sensitive, when tickled would only laugh and squirm until she realised what was going on at which point she would stop laughing and be slightly annoyed, or amused. Millie was a target for it as she drew attention to herself using her feet. She had been tickled on her feet tickled lots of times in her late teens and early twenties at house parties and the like, but never for very long and she had never been tied or held down. At one party she had playfully tickled-back a red-haired girl back who had caught her by surprise with a playful tickle of her soles. To Millie’s absolute horror the red-haired girl proved so ticklish that a group of seven or eight people had ended up pinning her down and tickling her as she screamed and thrashed. Millie had left that party out of fright, wondering if she would be next. She had heard the next day that the unfortunate girl had ended up wetting herself, and been given a humiliating nickname: ‘Sprinkles’.
At another party there was an awful horror movie featuring women being tied up and strapped to torture devices as well as insects crawling on their skin. Millie had left this party out of disgust, having a deep phobia of anything to do with bondage or torture. It had taken a while to escape as she had been boxed in and cuddled on the sofa by a big guy in a heavy metal T-Shirt.
Millie had once seen a medieval torture exhibit and hated the idea of being trapped or tortured, even a silly cartoon showing stocks or a hooded executioner would make her uncomfortable. Millie was also mildly claustrophobic, something that made her even more nervous as she needed a passport photo and a booth was her only option. After dropping the twins off at day care she would have to take a bus to the at which supermarket was the nearest photo-booth. She was too sleep deprived and had already discovered that none of the other Mum’s or any of her friends understood the requirements for taking such a picture. Millie had tried with a timer but found it harder than taking pictures of her feet. She had hoped one of her friends would be able to give her a lift, but none were free or able. Despite enjoying all the same soap operas and reality TV programmes as the women she chatted to, this was something that was wearing thin with Millie. She was often seen as ‘the sensible one’ and would have to explain very simple things to the women in her friendship group several times, usually doing whatever needed to be done for them after the third time of showing them how to do it. They kept asking her to paint their nails which made Millie roll her eyes. Still it was nice to have a group of friends to lie in the sun with during the summer… Now her financial worries where at an end she might even be able to travel somewhere hot with them now the weather had cooled off.
After Millie dropped off the kids at day-care she asked again if any of the other Mum’s fancied going with her, hoping one would be able to give her a lift after all. They all had work or something else to do; not one asked Millie about herself as usual. Millie had prepared a nonsense story about a great aunt leaving her money, but she had never needed the lie. Her casual group of friends either lacked the intelligence or the interest to wonder how she was making ends meet. On the bus Millie was sure she caught a chilling glimpse through the corner of her eye; a billboard showing the same images of a woman like herself in bondage, again it proved to be her mind playing tricks on her. She was sure it was some awful joke turning the slogan ‘Got milk?’ into ‘Got Milf?’…
Millie hated the term ‘Milf’, she found it demeaning, and it annoyed her when her friends used it. The last guy she had been interested in since the twins came along had managed to lose her respect by calling her ‘Millie the Milf’ when he didn’t realise she could hear him. Right now Millie was worried she was going mad, but settled on it just being one of those adverts that changed and she had just caught the end of something she didn’t want to see.
After her tiresome bus trip Millie made her way to the supermarket, there were some women in Halloween costumes advertising something, or collecting for charity near the entrance. Millie avoided them as she hated Halloween and alternative styles, the black leather buckled boots they wore annoyed her as did their stupid stripy stockings and corsets: Millie dislike such styles as they reminded her of bondage and that awful horror film. Millie wandered around the supermarket, putting off the photo booth and enjoying the attentions of a male student who followed her around trying to appear inconspicuous but stealing glances at what was likely to be the last sandaled woman he would see in the wild that year. Millie knew he was watching her and found an excuse to reach for something from a high shelf so she could go up on tip-toes, her strappy sandals revealing a brief tantalising view of her pale arches that were baby-soft and a notably a lighter hue than the tanned skin of the tops of her feet.
Secretly Millie liked the attention, and her audience seemed if anything, too naïve to be dangerous. The young man took in the tantalising sight of the soft soles just visible through the space the strappy sandals allowed. After a minute or two of pretending to look for something nearby, he offered to help; hoping to strike up a conversation. Millie thanked him and smiled but sadly the awkward young man just mumbled something about the weather, tripping over his words and not quite making eye contact. Millie attempted to reply but a sudden unexpected yawn her sleepless night ended the potential meet-cute.
‘Shame he is kind of handsome, even if he is probably only eighteen or nineteen’ Millie thought to herself, feeling increasingly lonely and in need of a man to cuddle and just be with.
Millie never had much confidence when she was alone and found that in groups she blended in and got talked over. Today probably wasn’t the best day to meet Mr Right anyway as she was half asleep and needed to get her passport picture taken. Millie had been hoping to be able to get some time for a nap whilst the twins were at the day care place and then maybe even take some pictures of her feet to sell. Sadly, the bus schedule made that unlikely, but it did give her a little longer to browse the supermarket aisles and get a coffee. Finally she approached the bothersome booth, which had some annoying Halloween advertising on it.
Millie hated Halloween, especially when it was an excuse for bondage and kinky stuff to be allowed out in the real world. Millie was not hugely apprehensive but remembered finding the timer annoying the last time she used one of these. She wasn’t as claustrophobic back then, but had wanted to get out as soon as possible. She wished this one also had a curtain instead of an actual door to block out the supermarket noise; had she realised this in advance she would have gone to a different one to stop the already annoying experience triggering her claustrophobia. Quietly she adjusted the seat to the right height and closed the door, following the instructions on the little screen.
Before Millie could start looking for any other instructions, the screen showed a picture of her own face with a green digital box highlighting her keen intelligent face. Before she could react the screen changed to show the word:
…in large terrifying letters and then everything went red. Millie screamed as the box began to shake and the screen showed a quick series of vivid images of her in all-sorts of bondage. She beat her fists and palms against the sides of the stupid box and screeched:
“THIS ISN’T FUNNY! LET ME OUT!”
The words on the screen now read:
As she frantically tried to get out the floor seemed to fall out from under Millie’s feet and before she knew it, Millie found herself falling. The impossible descent was accompanied by a terrible sinking feeling inside. Millie knew to her core something was wrong, this was worse than any nightmare she had ever had.
With a sudden thud she found herself stationary and trapped. It was dark and she struggled. Something held her arms above her head and the same heavy wood and firm leather held her ankles out in front of her. How she had gone from falling to sitting was unknown to the slim brunette, even in her panicked state back in the photo-both she had guessed someone had done something with AI or trick her. But the terrible descent and her subsequent incarceration were inexplicable. As Millie struggled and panicked she noticed something else that was impossible, her clothes had been changed. Gone were her stylish tight light-blue jeans and designer top, she still could not see but she felt air on her skin and some vaguely itchy fabric that only covered her torso and thighs. Suddenly medieval style torches flared into life dazzling the terrified brunette.
As the cavern came to life Millie’s eyes focused on a number of screens that were in front of her. Each screen showed her struggling in a different form of bondage, as she looked from screen to screen the words ‘Got Milf!’ flickered here and there. Millie cried out in rage and terror as she took in the stocks that held her, they were made of dark old wood and did not budge as she frantically kicked. The stocks above her head were equally well made and did not give at all as Millie tried to pull her arms down, she noticed that circulation to her fingers was not cut off by the leather and padding which kept her in pace perfectly.
“AAAHHHH!!!!!! WHOEVER HAS DONE THIS!!!... IT IS ISN’T FUNNY!!!!” Millie wailed to the empty cavern.
“You will be laughing soon enough!” A dominant female voice replied.
Millie blinked in surprise as a secretary in what she assumed was a Halloween demoness costume addressed her with a clipboard and long quill type pen with a long red feather.
Millie took an instant dislike to the strange woman, whose costume comprised a black and red corset and matching skirt under black leather straps with buckles as well as convincing Halloween horns that poked through her black hair. Millie was instantly remind of that awful ‘video nasty’ people had insisted watching at that party. She was tempted to shout at the woman and vent the frustration of many sleepless nights and tiresome days but instead decided to try reasoning with her captor.
“Look just get me out of this thing!... I don’t know how you got me here…. but I am claustrophobic!...” Millie began trying to bargain with apparition.
“Yes claustrophobic, with an associated fear of bondage and a fear of insect crawling on your skin…” The demoness replied, examining the parchment on her clipboard.
“How do you…?...” Millie stammered.
“It is all down here, lots of phobias related to my own personal favourite form of torture, but in your present state you are frustratingly… well not immune!.... Let us say poorly prepared!” The demonic secretary continued and she swirled her feather pen and tapped her goat feet on the cavern floor.
“This is a nightmare, I am going to wake up!” Millie insisted to herself, screwing up her eyes and trying to wake herself up.
The slim brunette breathed in and out and tried to clear her mind: ‘she would wake up and find she had dozed off in the photo booth’… or that she was still on the bus… “This isn’t real!” Millie whispered to herself as she slwoly opened her eyes to find the sexy demoness secretary looking at her curiously…
“….No!.... Still here!” The annoying apparition commented glibly.
Millie tried closing her eyes again only to open them quickly in response to the sudden unexpected sensation of sharp claw like nails exploring the soles of her feet through her sandals.
“Eeep!” Millie squeaked.
“So, definitely ticklish at first!” Her captor noted.
“Stop that!” Millie insisted.
“Make me!” Her captor retorted, cheekily.
Millie giggled and squirmed, this situation was ridiculous. The tickling was annoying but it was the bondage that frightened her, also the itchy peasant gown irritated her as she twisted and squirmed the small amount her bondage allowed, she noticed she still wore her underwear underneath the ghastly garment.
“NO!....let me go!” Millie insisted.
“Hmm... more ticklish when in bondage! I shall make a note of that! This is rather promising!” Her captor mused as she continued to tickle her unfortunate victim as she mused;
“Hmmm… I could definitely install a feedback loop between two copies to stop both from losing sensitivity…”
Millie didn’t understand what the strange woman was talking about, she half listened as she varied between barking threats and pleading for her captor to stop. Ignoring her pleas the goat-legged demon-woman paced and explored the rest of her prize. The cruel creature found that Millie’s legs, sides and underarms were all very ticklish and commented that the true secret to tickle-torture was to vary the tickle-spots frequently to prevent your victim becoming de-sensitised. Millie hated being talked about like this was and finally became enraged calling the woman a: "Sicko- sideshow freak!'
At that the cruel woman decided it was time to remove Millie’s precious sandals. Millie resumed begging as the buckles were undone.
“No! What are you doing those are expensive!....” Millie pleaded already enraged by the fashion disaster of an itchy gown that her designer clothes had been swapped for somehow.
“Yes they cost several pictures of these lovely tootsies!” Her captor replied.
Millie’s heart sank. This must be a deranged fan, she didn’t know how the sick woman had found her or trapped her… Millie guessed she must have been drugged somehow, hence seeing the goat legs….. But that last remark gave away what was going on here.
“Okay!.... Okay!.... You can have my sandals, you can have as many pictures of my feet as you like! Just get me out of this thing and get me out of here!... I need to collect my children from day care!” Millie bargained.
Her captor just laughed cruelly and continued to unbuckle the stylish sandals as she mocked her victim;
“…. Pictures of your feet! Why would I want pictures of your feet! I can see them through any reflective surface, which your species has installed almost everywhere on this accurséd rock!... Even if I couldn’t scry…. this internet you lot have created is full of pictures of feet!...”
“Just let me go please!” Millie whimpered as the woman continued.
“Oh and don’t worry about your children, one of you will go back up top and be on time to collect them!”
Mille didn’t understand what the woman meant by ‘one of you’ but shivered as the strange woman continued.
“…and as for these lovely sandals….. if you are good you can have them back at the end!” The cruel woman finalised. Appearing to encase the sandals in a Perspex box that appeared out of nowhere.
Millie curled her toes in terror, flexing and un-flexing each foot in turn. The first round of tickle torture had taken her by surprise, normally Millie stopped being ticklish after a few seconds but the cruel woman had found a way to vary which spot she targeted that had kept her panicking and struggling. Also being trapped and helpless seemed to have made it a lot worse. Her captor began again using one hand per foot making Millie squeal and struggle. Somehow the cruel woman was able to seize Millie toes and hold them back whilst still tickling each foot.
“Wha-haha-haat!” Ho-ooo.hoo-hhoo-ow?!” Millie exclaimed through peals of laughter as she beheld the woman who now seemed to have two sets of arms, one holding her toes and one to tickle.
“Things don’t always make sense to you mortals down here!” The strange woman answered cackling as she tickled
As she spoke the air around Millie seemed to grow a dozen arms which began exploring all of the tickle-spots that were highlighted earlier. Millie squealed and struggled as the impossible tickly sensations engulfed her. She couldn’t tell where the arms came from but felt as if the ground had fallen out from under her a second time as the many hands and claws probed and explored her ribs, side, hands and thighs. Two sets of feathery wings tormented her outstretched underarms and occasionally brushed against her sensitive neck. Millie became frantic, she hated having her neck touched; it was beyond tickling and brought about the most desperate panic. As the slim brunette reach a crescendo of panic and rage her captor eased off chuckling.
“Well that lasted longer than I expected, it seems being in bondage not only enhances your sensitivity it keeps you ticklish for longer…”
“Just… let… me… out!” Millie weakly begged.
“Oh… Not yet…. Not even close to yet!... I have one more thing to test before we even move on to the coffin phase!” her captor announced.
Before Millie could respond, or even think about the awful ‘coffin-phase’ the cruel woman mused;
“Now should I spend a luxurious amount of time tying these toes back one by one, or shall I just put you into bondage instantly like this!”
Millie shrieked as she felt her toes be rapidly pulled back to the wooden stocks, suddenly secured by little strings to brass eyelets. The bondage was sudden and terrible. Her toes were fully spread out and immobile.
“No! Let me go! I hate not being able to move!” Millie protested.
Amongst the many request Millie had received when selling picture of her feet, people often asked her to tie her toes and it had taken her a while to understand the requests. She hated bondage but would happily wrap some string around her toes for money knowing full well she could just untie them herself after taking the pictures. But this was different, now each and every toe was tied back and immobile, stretching her arches taut.
“I think one last play with these feet, and then maybe that lovely neck of yours and then it is coffin time!”
“No not my neck!” Millie wailed.
The slim brunette’s pleas were lost in laughter as the cruel creature resumed tickling her now immobile feet. Millie tried to curl and wiggle her toes but the horrible strings held them in a state of near-complete immobility. She hated not being able to move and found the variable tickly touches annoying. She was also terrified, the strange creature tormenting her seemed to have become less feminine and more demonic; it laughed a deep laugh and extended a long twisting tongue that seemed to end in feathers. Many hands tickled Millie’s soft immobile arches as the strange tongue flickered between her outstretched toes. Millie became frantic, she hated horror movies and now she was in one!
The foot tickling continued to annoy Millie but eventually she stopped laughing and just tried to focus on her captor who seemed to change form and not quite come into focus. As Millie stopped laughing the awful apparition at the foot of the stocks seemed to crystallise back into the demoness- secretary that had greeted her.
“So foot-ticklishness eventually wears off even when in complete bondage…” The cruel woman contemplated before adding; “…Although varying tools and technique may extend this with the need for a feedback loop…”
“Who are you?” Millie asked, interrupting her strange captor. She was terrified but trying to gain control of the situation somehow.
“I am your worst nightmare!” The strange woman answered.
Millie trembled, normally she would have found the horror-movie shtick infuriating but it was different when she was in bondage and her captor could seem to bend the laws of reality at a whim. For now Millie’s focus was on the woman who was laying out a devilish array of tools on to the top of the stocks. There were feathers and brushes, which Millie understood could tickle. But there were also other things; hairbrushes, mascara brushes, electric toothbrushes, other dental / medical devices and strange metal spiky wheels on handles. It took a moment for Millie to realise how many requests from ‘the pervs’ had involved these things, she had often not understood what they wanted and had frustrated them.
Amongst all the terrifying implements of torture: the little spiky metal wheels frightened Millie the most; she had never seen them before and was sure they were intended to hurt her.
“Now we shall see how varying between tools affects these lovely soles!” her cruel captor gloated.
“No don’t!.... Leave my feet alone!” Millie pleaded, she had never thought being tickled could be so torturous but being trapped definitely made it worse.
Her cruel captor started by selecting a pair of stiff white goose plume which she ran up Millie’s arches before using them to teasing her toes. Millie shrieked and struggled, next the woman used the points of the feathers to trace devilish design all over her soles. Extra arms allowed the woman to use fluffier feather son her toes whilst swapping between the stiff feathers and prickly quill points on her arches.
The cruel woman would never stick to one spot or technique, but eventually Millie stopped laughing and resumed threatening the woman. She wished she hadn’t, as the cruel woman selected a pair of the electric toothbrushes which were a thousand times worse on her toes. Growing extra arms again the demonic secretary selected two circular mechanical cleaning brushes to torment her victim’s arches, whilst still keeping the toothbrushes dancing in a random pattern over her the trapped writhing toes and every delightful spot between them.
Millie was going insane, she had never thought she could be tortured this way but it was starting to make her feel very helpless and very small. Whilst she took good care of her feet she would occasionally treat herself and a few friends to pedicure and could never understand why the other soft-soled women continued to laugh and giggle after the first few touches, now she understood.
Next the cruel woman used the odd medical /dental devices which she explained were electric flossers. Millie had used manual inter-dental brushes to try and satisfy a client and had never even heard of things but: boy how they tickled her!
They made Millie wail and gasp as the cruel woman explored her helpless toes with two of them, then four, then twelve of them, sprouting extra arms to really torture the hysterical woman, finding every unknown uncharted tickle spot which she could return to again when her poor victim least suspected it.
Just as Millie thought things couldn’t get any worse her cruel captor picked up one of the terrible spiky metal wheels and ran a fingertip over its sharp metal spikes.
“NO!!!!... DON’T TORTURE ME WITH THAT!... THAT LOOKS LIKE IT WILL FUCKING HURT” Millie screamed in terror.
“Not unless I apply too much pressure…” Her cruel captor explained slowly running the terrible metal when from Millie’s heel, over her arch to the ball of her right foot.
Millie shrieked, hating the new sensations. Her cruel captor selected a second such implement and began working on her left foot. Slowly she found that these cruel devices where effective almost everywhere on Millie’s feet, but especially on her arches and heels. They also worked well as first when used to trace a path across the balls of Millie’s feet but the cruel woman found that but using two per foot on Millie’s heels and arches was the most effective, especially when combined with flossers and electric toothbrushes on her victim’s hypersensitive toes.
Millie descended into silent laughter, this was the worst torture she had ever experienced. She would have given anything to make the sensations stop and had she been able to speak, she would have offered!
Finally the horrible tickle-tools were removed and Millie was treated to brief reprieve as her soles were oiled with a warm scented oil. Her soles and face were red and Millie resented her own moans as the foot massage felt sublime after the assault on her senses. Any relief she felt was short lived as the woman held up the next tickle-toy: the hairbrush.
“Oh my God what are you going to do with that!... That can’t possibly tickle?! Please don’t hit me with that!” Millie wailed.
“We might experiment with some bastinado and roasting later! But I am not here to hurt you, just torture you… And I am sorry but you are quite wrong if you think these things don’t tickle!”
Millie screamed as she felt the awful brush tips on her oiled and sensitive skin. She had been asked for pictures of her doing this to her soles, but had just found the plastic bobbles gave her a weird ‘ookie’ sensation when she was the in control of them. The cruel woman used a variety of hairbrushes, asking Millie how each one felt until her prize reached the stage of silent laughter and could not answer.
“Now these ones know a special trick!... The dreadful demoness announced holding two large black hairbrushes up for her victim to see during one of the many little brief breaks she allowed her victim to prevent her from becoming too accustomed to the constant torment.
“…. They vibrate!”
Millie watched in terror as the brushes came to life, the little plastic bobbles on the ends of the hairbrush bristles hummed just like her ;special little helper’. Millie whimpered and dreaded the new sensations that were to come. As they landed they took her to a whole new level of torment, a ball-gag was prestidigitated in her mouth making her scream in rage at the impossibility of its sudden appearance. The awful torture had just reached the stage were she was about to bite down on her lips, but instead bit into the soft cherry-tasting gag.
The large vibrating hairbrushes were replaced by smaller ones with sharper bristles that could really get into her arches. Finally her cruel captor allowed her a longer reprieve as she settled on the last hairbrush in her collection. Millie desperately tried to take in air as the cruel horned woman gloated over her prized possession, she had been talking for a while before Millie finally regained her composure enough to pay attention.
“…It is a copy of course, I let the woman who made this keep the original…” The woman explained as Millie’s eyes slowly rolled and refocused.
“….but I admire something about the human spirit in this object. You see, some women long to experience what you have just felt and /or inflict such torment on others…”
Millie listened and tried to focus her tear-stained eyes on the object; ‘what was so different about this hairbrush…’
“… And they tend to collect items that they know can be used to tickle; feathers, old electric toothbrushes, hairbrushes… and when they do this, those that are functional, everyday items, tend to go out of circulation as it were and not continue to be used for their primary purpose. Especially if their owners are ever lucky enough to get to use them on feet…”
Millie tried to focus on the awful artefact but also whimpered and looked away, her ball-gag was gone now and she piteously pleaded to be released.
“… Now the original black plastic bobbles had come off this hairbrush you see… leaving sharp plastic that scratched its owner scalp and would also scratch soles in the wrong way if used as a torture-toy… leaving red marks rather than the general red your lovely soles have turned now!…” As she spoke the cruel woman ran a fingernail up one of Millie’s arches making her let out an
“Eeeep!” as she realised she was still helpless, still ticklish!
So!... and here is the real genius!....” The cruel woman continued;
“This woman took her feather collection, cut off the points of the feathers and then glued them over the tops of hairbrush prongs using the little hollow bits inside the feathers: where ink used to go, to hold the glue… meaning that a grand total of ninety-nine quill tips are now presented at roughly the same height….”
Millie looked aghast and gulped, remembering how terribly ticklish just one such quill-tip had felt on her soles.
“… roughly the same that is!... You see all the quill points all just a few millimetres off from standing proudly at the same height. And not only that but each and every one is slightly different!”
Millie whimpered, trying not to imagine nearly a hundred of the awful quill points moving in unison…. ‘There was something about the way the points had that little hollow in the middle!’ Her captor continued to talk as the slim brunette wiggled her fingers nervously, her terror fighting exhaustion for her previous ordeal.
“… But that isn’t where it ends…” The woman began before noticing her captive’s fatigue….
“You can’t focus!... I tickled you a little too far into madness and exhaustion! Hold on let me roll you back!...” The cruel woman rambled excitedly.
With a gesture the strange woman rotated one hand quickly, reversing time so that her victim was back at the stage she had been when the feathers had just been put away...
Millie screamed, this new sensation was terrifying. One second she had been exhausted and now she was back to the nervous apprehension she had felt earlier. She could still remember the awful brushes on her oiled soles but her previously red, shiny soles were now as smooth as silk: a fresh canvas for torment.
“… So without those tears in your eyes you may now be able to see what this clever woman did with the feather-plumes she cut off from the quills….” The sadistic secretary continued to explain.
“…. She threaded them between the holes in the paddle of the hairbrush and with true ingenuity and skill she found a way to make and internal device built into the hairbrush make them vibrate and swish in such a way that each and every feather dances a few millimetres higher than the general level of the quill-tips.
Millie whimpered as the awful item came into focus. She somehow knew that the strange woman having this ability to reverse time meant she would feel the full effect of this terrible tickle-tool, possibly more than once. Frantically she pleaded;
“Please don’t use that on my feet!”
“Oh I am going to use this on your feet Millie!... I am going to use this to torture your soft and sensitive feet and enjoy watching you squirm!” The cruel woman explained slowly.
“No!....” Millie wailed.
“Oh Yes!... and there is nothing you can do to stop me!.. You’re trapped down here and you are mine to play with!” The cruel woman goaded, lowering the terrible tickle tool towards Millie’s helpless back-bound toes.
She made sure that the awful tickle-tool would stay in sight as she clicked the switch on the back of the handle to set the feathers to vibrate and swish back and forth.
Millie whimpered as she heard six more clicks and watched the feathers come to life. She did not see the little switch on the back of the brush which went from;
– OFF – LOW – SWISH – MEDIUM – SWISH – HIGH –SWISH – RANDOM.
“And that is another thing, it has a random setting!... which is worst of all as the victim can never get used to it” As she spoke the sadistic secretary held the device up to show the feathers vibrate with variable intensity and swish back and forth randomly. Millie could see that not all the feathers were vibrating at the same intensity or swishing back and forth at the same time and somehow just new that this would be worse than if they just vibrated on one setting.
“But I think I will start on low for now!” The cruel woman added, sliding her thumb on the back of the large hairbrushes handle to return it to the ‘Low’ setting.
Millie whimpered as the device was brought closer and closer to her trapped taut arches. Softly the feather tips were applied first to her sole of her right foot, the soft fronds only tickled slightly at first, less so than the surprise assault of the woman’s fingertip on her left arch which made her shriek.
Next the hairbrush was pushed closer such that the awful prickly quill tips made contact with Millie’s soft arches. The effect was terrible as the feathers changed the way they danced, being designed to respond to changes in pressure. The cruel woman eased back and flicked her thumb to activate the swish setting that caused the feathers to quickly swipe from left to right within the slots in the casing of the hairbrush between each row of nine quills. Millie shrieked at the surprise sensation and continued to giggle as the hairbrush was set to ‘medium’. This torture continued until her captor activated the swish setting again, a new facet of the cruel brush was that if the button was pushed down on ‘swish mode’ the feathers twirled in a circle rather than flickering back and forth, something Millie did not appreciate discovering.
The dreadful demoness made full use of the brush’s many little tricks whilst swapping between low and medium to see which tickled her victim the worst. Finally the hairbrush was set to ‘high’ proving that the faster the feathers moved the worse they tickled, but they were still not as bad as the awful quill tips that they danced between: no two of which felt the same on Millie’s hypersensitive soles. When the device was set to random Millie lost control and started to thrash in her bonds, the ball-gag reappearing as she was pushed into a hysterical, desperate and impossible attempt to escape. Little strings appeared to splay out Millie’s fingers and hold them still as she balled her fists tightly in an attempt to block out the sensations, her short but sharp nails would have drawn blood from her palms if her bondage was not completed this way. Millie tried to look up to see who was doing this but was too frantic to and the wooden wrist-stocks blocked her view anyway. Her torture only stopped when the hairbrush broke.
“Ah! That is the fatal flaw of this tickle-tool! One that makes its inventor use the real version very sparingly!...” The cruel woman explained as her victim desperately sucked down air during this reprieve, tugging at her new finger restraints and hating the fact she was now almost entirely immobile.
“Luckily I am outside of time so I don’t need to spend many hours trying to fix it, I can just collect an unbroken copy from my cache… In fact I might collect two of these! One for each foot!”
Millie screamed a futile scream of rage as the sadistic secretary produced two identical custom-modified torture brushes. One had been bad enough but now there was one for each foot. The cruel woman made her suffer through each setting again only with the awful feathers and dreaded quill tips dancing over each of her feet at the same time. Millie did not lose any sensitivity as the sensations kept changing and after what felt like an eternity her captor blindfolded her and decided she would torment her upper body with feathers and fingers whilst the brushes remained at her soles. Millie could not see how there were extra ticklers now and just suffered and whimpered, being taken to the edge of her endurance once more. Finally she was broken and just broke down in tears, sobbing into her blindfold; the tears mixing with saliva on her gag and running down her chin.
“Aww poor thing!... Did I push you too far!... This time you broke before the brushes did!” the cruel secretary mockingly reassured her victim like a pet as she removed the wet blindfold, adding sweetly;
“It will all be okay in a second, I will just roll back time again and this time I will wipe your memory. Or at least make the traumatic experience inaccessible to you until later…”
Suddenly Millie found herself ungagged and un-blindfolded blinking as if she had just walked into a room and forgotten what she needed and why she was there. She was sure she had just been wearing a blindfold but the last thing she remembered was the cruel woman tickling her all over with many arms and some wings and then she had talked about tickling her neck!
Millie was sure something else had happened and had deep, dark sense she had forgotten something important. The slim brunette did not have long to worry about this, as the cruel woman approached her with one noodle-like arm extending impossibly with the hand holding a long plume.
“No!.... stay the Fuck away from my neck!” The enraged brunette barked.
“I have my tests to run, and I think this might be key! You see I have noticed you cease being ticklish on any spot if I stay there too long and don’t surprise you somehow or tickle you somewhere else to keep you frantic… But I think that earlier I found that your neck is an exception….”
“Seriously I will fucking sue you! I will fucking get you put in prison for kidnap and assault!” Millie threatened.
“The long arm of the law can’t reach down here darling!....” The strange woman quipped, extending the feather-holding hand on an ever-lengthening arm that seemed to move like a snake, twisting and twirling in an impossible way as it looped back on itself.
“….But my long arms can tickle you anywhere, anyhow!” The sadist continued, loving the look of fear in her victim’s eyes.
It was like something from a cartoon, had Millie not hated anything surreal or strange it would have been comical. The arm went behind her where she could not see, switching from this side to that before teasing her underarms with the feather and eventually exploring her ears. Frantically Millie tried to struggle and thrash to prevent her most hated spots being teased. The woman laughed at her victim’s helplessness and clicked her fingers, now a leather strap held Millie’s head at the brow back to something, something wooden….
“No!... stop!... I hate this!” Millie protested as she was now totally immobile, she had not noticed that her fingers had been tied back like her toes, ‘when had that happened!’
“Such a sensitive… sexy… gorgeous… ‘Got-Milf!’….. Oooh!... I have got you!... You are such a ‘Got-Milf!’…” the cruel woman teased as she teased Millie under her chin and prestidigitating two sets of hands to tickle the palms of her victim’s hands, a response to recognition that her captive had realised the new, unremembered bondage.
“Don’t call me that!” Millie protested, hating the word.
“Hmmm! I suppose you are technically a M.I.L.T….” The woman purred as she ran the feather softly down Millie’s neck.
Millie giggled and squirmed, she hated how this woman had complete control over her.
“Yes!.. a soft, sensitive, sexy: Mother I would Like to Tickle!” Her captor purred in a sing-song voice.
“A terribly ticklish: Mother I would Like to Tease!” The sexy secretary continued as she flickered the feathers back into Millie’s helpless ears.
“No!....” Millie protested desperately but weakly.
“A soft and sensual: Mother I would like to Torment!” The dreadful demoness whispered as she focused on all of Millie’s worst spots adding feathers to ensure her captor lost control.
“A silky, sexy, squealing… Mother I would Like to Torture!” The awful apparition finalised before using an impossible number of feathers to drive her victim over the edge exciting every spot that was vulnerable and helpless to the soft infuriating touches.
Millie lost control, her neck was a worst spot and she hated having it touched. Her captor was absolutely right and she did not lose any sensitivity or manage to gain control over herself like she normally did with other spots. The cruel woman relished this and resumed finding ways to tickle her upper body, sides and soles at the same time. Millie didn’t see how the woman was tickling her through tear stained eyes, she just laughed and squirmed and suffered. The tickling went on a long time. Normally Millie would have stopped laughing but between her captor’s expertise, and the awful unpredictable touches to her neck: this time she just kept laughing and squirming. Millie was red faced and enraged.
“FUCKING STOP!!!!.... I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!!..... JUST LET ME GO!... I WON’T TELL ANYONE!.... I SWEAR TO GO-HOO-HOO!....” Millie barked, being tickled for longer and with more expert skill than she ever had been before, at least for longer than she remembered being tickled before.
Cruelly her captor just kept tickling her, until between her threats and please Millie cried out:
“THIS STOOL IS HURTING MY BUM!”
Cackling her captor eased off the torment, bringing her own extra limbs back into her amorphous form. Before quipping.
“Well then I guess it’s time to Rack-A-MILT!!!!”
As she spoke the strange secretary waved a hand commanding the bondage equipment to move. The wooden stool disappeared into thin air and before she knew it Millie was stretched out taut between the foot stocks and those holding her wrists. Her feet were still as they were: totally immobile in the stocks and toe-ties. But the wooden restraints that had held her arms up towards the ceiling were now pulling her back as far as she could go in the opposite direction. Millie didn’t need anything to support her in her new face-up position as she was stretched out so tight she couldn’t move and inch, something she hated.
“Noooo! Don’t stretch me like this! I hate not being able to move!...”
Millie did not have long to protest as the sadistic secretary resumed tickling her all over. The feathers teasing her neck kept Millie from being able to regain her composure. Meanwhile her captor took delight in returning to every spot she had mapped on her delectable prize’s body. From her underarms, sides, tummy, legs and knees only a few savoured spots were spared: little treats for later to be devoured at the right time.
One sweet-spot that had so far been spared was Millie’s belly button which proved to be a goldmine, especially when the cruel woman use one flat hand to support her back underneath to really make her feel helpless. A swirling exploring finger had a completely different effect on Millie making her squeak and yelp little but loud comical yelps of laughter like a small dog barking.
Millie hated the way the woman had complete control over her; the sexy, sadistic secretary could do anything she wanted to her in this position: and she did!...
Unable to escape or become used to the unpredictable and infuriating sensations Millie just suffered and struggled. Millie did not notice at first, but her body was responding in an unusual way: her nipples were hardening and there was a fire in her libido that had been absent for a long time. She desperately hoped that she would not climax or wet herself, she did want to give the woman the satisfaction, but found herself getting hot when her thighs were teased under the hem of the awful itchy gown. Even worse, when her sides were teased Millie felt the coffee she had drunk in the supermarket café fight against the pelvic floor exercises she did religiously after giving birth to the twins, wanting to get back to peak form.
When the cruel woman finally stopped Millie continued to laugh and gibber as phantom tickles flickered through her quivering, twitching nervous system. It took her a while to realise the torment had stopped. As she came to, red faced with her heart pounding she felt oddly revitalised. Adrenaline and the urge to escape filled her and she thrashed in rage, hating being in bondage.
“Such passion!... Such fire!... I think I may hunt you before I duplicate your sexy mind and body in my special coffin!”
Millie was delirious, she vaguely remembered the dreadful demoness saying something about a ‘coffin phase’ earlier which filled her claustrophobic mind with dread. She did not like the idea of being ‘hunted’ much better.
“This may even hep cure your claustrophobia and fear of bondage….” Her captor mused quietly thinking: ‘If I do this right, she will learn that she is not tightly and snuggly secured for torment, the deep dark dread of the unknown is the only alternative…’
Suddenly Millie was released from the awful wooden restraints that had held her captive and she was falling again. She screamed as the floor seemed to fall out of her soul, to experience this twice in one day made this the worst nightmare she had ever had. The tickle torment had been so vivid. Millie hoped as she fell that she would wake up and be able to forget this horrible nightmare….
Oh how she desperately Millie hoped this was just a nightmare she would wake up from…
- - - -
End of Part 1
Yes I am planning to finish the Christmas stories and Alexandra's dreaded pedicure.
This story is set in the same universe as the Krampella ones. See Kathy down below and these ones if you need reminding but you don't need to have read them.
This one is a stand-alone
- - - -
Millie sighed as she pushed the twins along in their pram, walking with the other Mums. The gruesome two-some had kept her up all night, again! Not only that; but the lack of sleep meant her mind was playing tricks on her, she kept seeing odd things out of the corner of her eye that triggered her many phobias. First; as Millie was prepared the twins’ cereal she thought she saw a picture of herself on the milk, like in those American TV programmes in which ‘missing persons’ where shown on the carton. Then the TV screen seemed to show a woman in bondage, Millie had dashed to turn it off to stop it scaring her children, but found it was nothing but a shampoo commercial. Millie was sure that it had been a woman (who looked a lot like her) bound with rope and gagged with a big red ball. Millie hated seeing people tied up; bondage being one of her many phobias. Anything involving restraining women or torture made her blood turn cold, she even hated those old cartons where the heroin was tied to the railway tracks.
Today Millie seemed to see such things everywhere. Whilst checking for the nearest photo booth for an errand that morning, Millie eyes were assaulted by a pop-up ad that briefly showed a pair of feet twitching as a woman was suspended by her ankles. Millie only saw it for a second before it seemed to turn into a foot cream advert. For a brief second though, a pair of soles a lot like her own seemed to desperately curl and flex in bondage.
Millie shivered slightly as the cool autumn breeze snapped at her feet in their sandals. The memories of the half-seen hallucinations tugging at her sanity. It was a nice bright day but the morning air was cold and Millie gave a slightly unsettling sense of foreboding about the day. The sun felt good on Millie’s face, but the ground was still damp making the slim woman pick her path careful to avoid ruining her sandals or getting her feet dirty. Millie took good care of her feet and would resent having to trade her comfortable and stylish sandals for her barefoot-boots soon, today probably being the last day of the year she could display her pretty feet. Millie liked to feel the ground beneath her feet and preferred thin-soled sandals which let her toes spread out. Today she wore her favourite pair that had good, comfortable, thin straps for her slender ankles that kept her feet feeling both free and protected whilst also being stylish and sheik: they were light blue with brown leather soles which matched her stylish jeans and top. Millie liked looking good and secretly enjoyed the glances she got at her neatly painted toes and slender soft feet. Mille was average height with light brown hair, she was slim and spry with pretty, but non-distinctive face. Somehow though, she would always blend in; her well maintained feet and tendency to wear sandals being the most distinctive thing about her. Millie’s sexy soles had proved to be a god-send for her after her jerk of an ex-boyfriend disappeared after finding out she was pregnant.
That had been the hardest year of her life. Millie, although very bright, had not paid attention at school, preferring to chat and gossip through lessons. Over the years she had put up with a few tedious jobs here and there, but had largely planned on being a house-wife to a successful man, finding the jobs she was qualified for to be repetitive, frustrating and tedious. It came as a deep disappointment to have that successful man disappear the second responsibility reared its boring head. She found that he had even been using a fake name when they were together and had been unable to track him to make him pay child support. A throw-away joke a tall blonde in her Mum’s group had turned things around for Millie, she had made some crack about Millie ‘selling pictures of her feet on the internet’ both a reference to Millie’s most notable feature ,and also a bizarre online practise that Millie would have never looked into due to her phobias. Still this joke led to the slim brunette to curiously look into a kinky side-hustle she would have never normally considered.
On reflection she wasn’t sure what had made her do it: a little voice just kept saying ‘Do it!’ in her head. Millie was careful and never gave too much away on the profiles she had set up on this site and that. She never allowed anything be in the pictures that could trace them back to her and did not encourage the men (and possibly women) who paid for the shots of her sexy soles and toes. She found she needed to set up new profiles almost on a monthly basis as the ‘pervs’ she sold the pictures always seemed to get obsessed with her. A lot of them wanted to lick her feet, which she didn’t like the idea of…. Others had the weirdest requests….
Millie had paid of her credit card by peeling a banana with her clever toes. Millie could write with her feet, her toes were not excessively long but she could do things with them that these freaks would pay her for. In her mind, they were not real people, just jokes. Sometimes they would write her long essays about how perfect her feet were, which whilst daunting, made her secretly think: ‘I know!’
People would ask her to do some things she would refuse to, and ask questions she refused to answer. The most commonly asked question was always
‘Are you ticklish?’ to which Millie would reply;
‘Not very, and only for a short while if it surprises me’
This was in fact…. the truth.
Millie although super-sensitive, when tickled would only laugh and squirm until she realised what was going on at which point she would stop laughing and be slightly annoyed, or amused. Millie was a target for it as she drew attention to herself using her feet. She had been tickled on her feet tickled lots of times in her late teens and early twenties at house parties and the like, but never for very long and she had never been tied or held down. At one party she had playfully tickled-back a red-haired girl back who had caught her by surprise with a playful tickle of her soles. To Millie’s absolute horror the red-haired girl proved so ticklish that a group of seven or eight people had ended up pinning her down and tickling her as she screamed and thrashed. Millie had left that party out of fright, wondering if she would be next. She had heard the next day that the unfortunate girl had ended up wetting herself, and been given a humiliating nickname: ‘Sprinkles’.
At another party there was an awful horror movie featuring women being tied up and strapped to torture devices as well as insects crawling on their skin. Millie had left this party out of disgust, having a deep phobia of anything to do with bondage or torture. It had taken a while to escape as she had been boxed in and cuddled on the sofa by a big guy in a heavy metal T-Shirt.
Millie had once seen a medieval torture exhibit and hated the idea of being trapped or tortured, even a silly cartoon showing stocks or a hooded executioner would make her uncomfortable. Millie was also mildly claustrophobic, something that made her even more nervous as she needed a passport photo and a booth was her only option. After dropping the twins off at day care she would have to take a bus to the at which supermarket was the nearest photo-booth. She was too sleep deprived and had already discovered that none of the other Mum’s or any of her friends understood the requirements for taking such a picture. Millie had tried with a timer but found it harder than taking pictures of her feet. She had hoped one of her friends would be able to give her a lift, but none were free or able. Despite enjoying all the same soap operas and reality TV programmes as the women she chatted to, this was something that was wearing thin with Millie. She was often seen as ‘the sensible one’ and would have to explain very simple things to the women in her friendship group several times, usually doing whatever needed to be done for them after the third time of showing them how to do it. They kept asking her to paint their nails which made Millie roll her eyes. Still it was nice to have a group of friends to lie in the sun with during the summer… Now her financial worries where at an end she might even be able to travel somewhere hot with them now the weather had cooled off.
After Millie dropped off the kids at day-care she asked again if any of the other Mum’s fancied going with her, hoping one would be able to give her a lift after all. They all had work or something else to do; not one asked Millie about herself as usual. Millie had prepared a nonsense story about a great aunt leaving her money, but she had never needed the lie. Her casual group of friends either lacked the intelligence or the interest to wonder how she was making ends meet. On the bus Millie was sure she caught a chilling glimpse through the corner of her eye; a billboard showing the same images of a woman like herself in bondage, again it proved to be her mind playing tricks on her. She was sure it was some awful joke turning the slogan ‘Got milk?’ into ‘Got Milf?’…
Millie hated the term ‘Milf’, she found it demeaning, and it annoyed her when her friends used it. The last guy she had been interested in since the twins came along had managed to lose her respect by calling her ‘Millie the Milf’ when he didn’t realise she could hear him. Right now Millie was worried she was going mad, but settled on it just being one of those adverts that changed and she had just caught the end of something she didn’t want to see.
After her tiresome bus trip Millie made her way to the supermarket, there were some women in Halloween costumes advertising something, or collecting for charity near the entrance. Millie avoided them as she hated Halloween and alternative styles, the black leather buckled boots they wore annoyed her as did their stupid stripy stockings and corsets: Millie dislike such styles as they reminded her of bondage and that awful horror film. Millie wandered around the supermarket, putting off the photo booth and enjoying the attentions of a male student who followed her around trying to appear inconspicuous but stealing glances at what was likely to be the last sandaled woman he would see in the wild that year. Millie knew he was watching her and found an excuse to reach for something from a high shelf so she could go up on tip-toes, her strappy sandals revealing a brief tantalising view of her pale arches that were baby-soft and a notably a lighter hue than the tanned skin of the tops of her feet.
Secretly Millie liked the attention, and her audience seemed if anything, too naïve to be dangerous. The young man took in the tantalising sight of the soft soles just visible through the space the strappy sandals allowed. After a minute or two of pretending to look for something nearby, he offered to help; hoping to strike up a conversation. Millie thanked him and smiled but sadly the awkward young man just mumbled something about the weather, tripping over his words and not quite making eye contact. Millie attempted to reply but a sudden unexpected yawn her sleepless night ended the potential meet-cute.
‘Shame he is kind of handsome, even if he is probably only eighteen or nineteen’ Millie thought to herself, feeling increasingly lonely and in need of a man to cuddle and just be with.
Millie never had much confidence when she was alone and found that in groups she blended in and got talked over. Today probably wasn’t the best day to meet Mr Right anyway as she was half asleep and needed to get her passport picture taken. Millie had been hoping to be able to get some time for a nap whilst the twins were at the day care place and then maybe even take some pictures of her feet to sell. Sadly, the bus schedule made that unlikely, but it did give her a little longer to browse the supermarket aisles and get a coffee. Finally she approached the bothersome booth, which had some annoying Halloween advertising on it.
Millie hated Halloween, especially when it was an excuse for bondage and kinky stuff to be allowed out in the real world. Millie was not hugely apprehensive but remembered finding the timer annoying the last time she used one of these. She wasn’t as claustrophobic back then, but had wanted to get out as soon as possible. She wished this one also had a curtain instead of an actual door to block out the supermarket noise; had she realised this in advance she would have gone to a different one to stop the already annoying experience triggering her claustrophobia. Quietly she adjusted the seat to the right height and closed the door, following the instructions on the little screen.
Before Millie could start looking for any other instructions, the screen showed a picture of her own face with a green digital box highlighting her keen intelligent face. Before she could react the screen changed to show the word:
AQUIRE
…in large terrifying letters and then everything went red. Millie screamed as the box began to shake and the screen showed a quick series of vivid images of her in all-sorts of bondage. She beat her fists and palms against the sides of the stupid box and screeched:
“THIS ISN’T FUNNY! LET ME OUT!”
The words on the screen now read:
GOT MILF!
As she frantically tried to get out the floor seemed to fall out from under Millie’s feet and before she knew it, Millie found herself falling. The impossible descent was accompanied by a terrible sinking feeling inside. Millie knew to her core something was wrong, this was worse than any nightmare she had ever had.
With a sudden thud she found herself stationary and trapped. It was dark and she struggled. Something held her arms above her head and the same heavy wood and firm leather held her ankles out in front of her. How she had gone from falling to sitting was unknown to the slim brunette, even in her panicked state back in the photo-both she had guessed someone had done something with AI or trick her. But the terrible descent and her subsequent incarceration were inexplicable. As Millie struggled and panicked she noticed something else that was impossible, her clothes had been changed. Gone were her stylish tight light-blue jeans and designer top, she still could not see but she felt air on her skin and some vaguely itchy fabric that only covered her torso and thighs. Suddenly medieval style torches flared into life dazzling the terrified brunette.
As the cavern came to life Millie’s eyes focused on a number of screens that were in front of her. Each screen showed her struggling in a different form of bondage, as she looked from screen to screen the words ‘Got Milf!’ flickered here and there. Millie cried out in rage and terror as she took in the stocks that held her, they were made of dark old wood and did not budge as she frantically kicked. The stocks above her head were equally well made and did not give at all as Millie tried to pull her arms down, she noticed that circulation to her fingers was not cut off by the leather and padding which kept her in pace perfectly.
“AAAHHHH!!!!!! WHOEVER HAS DONE THIS!!!... IT IS ISN’T FUNNY!!!!” Millie wailed to the empty cavern.
“You will be laughing soon enough!” A dominant female voice replied.
Millie blinked in surprise as a secretary in what she assumed was a Halloween demoness costume addressed her with a clipboard and long quill type pen with a long red feather.
Millie took an instant dislike to the strange woman, whose costume comprised a black and red corset and matching skirt under black leather straps with buckles as well as convincing Halloween horns that poked through her black hair. Millie was instantly remind of that awful ‘video nasty’ people had insisted watching at that party. She was tempted to shout at the woman and vent the frustration of many sleepless nights and tiresome days but instead decided to try reasoning with her captor.
“Look just get me out of this thing!... I don’t know how you got me here…. but I am claustrophobic!...” Millie began trying to bargain with apparition.
“Yes claustrophobic, with an associated fear of bondage and a fear of insect crawling on your skin…” The demoness replied, examining the parchment on her clipboard.
“How do you…?...” Millie stammered.
“It is all down here, lots of phobias related to my own personal favourite form of torture, but in your present state you are frustratingly… well not immune!.... Let us say poorly prepared!” The demonic secretary continued and she swirled her feather pen and tapped her goat feet on the cavern floor.
“This is a nightmare, I am going to wake up!” Millie insisted to herself, screwing up her eyes and trying to wake herself up.
The slim brunette breathed in and out and tried to clear her mind: ‘she would wake up and find she had dozed off in the photo booth’… or that she was still on the bus… “This isn’t real!” Millie whispered to herself as she slwoly opened her eyes to find the sexy demoness secretary looking at her curiously…
“….No!.... Still here!” The annoying apparition commented glibly.
Millie tried closing her eyes again only to open them quickly in response to the sudden unexpected sensation of sharp claw like nails exploring the soles of her feet through her sandals.
“Eeep!” Millie squeaked.
“So, definitely ticklish at first!” Her captor noted.
“Stop that!” Millie insisted.
“Make me!” Her captor retorted, cheekily.
Millie giggled and squirmed, this situation was ridiculous. The tickling was annoying but it was the bondage that frightened her, also the itchy peasant gown irritated her as she twisted and squirmed the small amount her bondage allowed, she noticed she still wore her underwear underneath the ghastly garment.
“NO!....let me go!” Millie insisted.
“Hmm... more ticklish when in bondage! I shall make a note of that! This is rather promising!” Her captor mused as she continued to tickle her unfortunate victim as she mused;
“Hmmm… I could definitely install a feedback loop between two copies to stop both from losing sensitivity…”
Millie didn’t understand what the strange woman was talking about, she half listened as she varied between barking threats and pleading for her captor to stop. Ignoring her pleas the goat-legged demon-woman paced and explored the rest of her prize. The cruel creature found that Millie’s legs, sides and underarms were all very ticklish and commented that the true secret to tickle-torture was to vary the tickle-spots frequently to prevent your victim becoming de-sensitised. Millie hated being talked about like this was and finally became enraged calling the woman a: "Sicko- sideshow freak!'
At that the cruel woman decided it was time to remove Millie’s precious sandals. Millie resumed begging as the buckles were undone.
“No! What are you doing those are expensive!....” Millie pleaded already enraged by the fashion disaster of an itchy gown that her designer clothes had been swapped for somehow.
“Yes they cost several pictures of these lovely tootsies!” Her captor replied.
Millie’s heart sank. This must be a deranged fan, she didn’t know how the sick woman had found her or trapped her… Millie guessed she must have been drugged somehow, hence seeing the goat legs….. But that last remark gave away what was going on here.
“Okay!.... Okay!.... You can have my sandals, you can have as many pictures of my feet as you like! Just get me out of this thing and get me out of here!... I need to collect my children from day care!” Millie bargained.
Her captor just laughed cruelly and continued to unbuckle the stylish sandals as she mocked her victim;
“…. Pictures of your feet! Why would I want pictures of your feet! I can see them through any reflective surface, which your species has installed almost everywhere on this accurséd rock!... Even if I couldn’t scry…. this internet you lot have created is full of pictures of feet!...”
“Just let me go please!” Millie whimpered as the woman continued.
“Oh and don’t worry about your children, one of you will go back up top and be on time to collect them!”
Mille didn’t understand what the woman meant by ‘one of you’ but shivered as the strange woman continued.
“…and as for these lovely sandals….. if you are good you can have them back at the end!” The cruel woman finalised. Appearing to encase the sandals in a Perspex box that appeared out of nowhere.
Millie curled her toes in terror, flexing and un-flexing each foot in turn. The first round of tickle torture had taken her by surprise, normally Millie stopped being ticklish after a few seconds but the cruel woman had found a way to vary which spot she targeted that had kept her panicking and struggling. Also being trapped and helpless seemed to have made it a lot worse. Her captor began again using one hand per foot making Millie squeal and struggle. Somehow the cruel woman was able to seize Millie toes and hold them back whilst still tickling each foot.
“Wha-haha-haat!” Ho-ooo.hoo-hhoo-ow?!” Millie exclaimed through peals of laughter as she beheld the woman who now seemed to have two sets of arms, one holding her toes and one to tickle.
“Things don’t always make sense to you mortals down here!” The strange woman answered cackling as she tickled
As she spoke the air around Millie seemed to grow a dozen arms which began exploring all of the tickle-spots that were highlighted earlier. Millie squealed and struggled as the impossible tickly sensations engulfed her. She couldn’t tell where the arms came from but felt as if the ground had fallen out from under her a second time as the many hands and claws probed and explored her ribs, side, hands and thighs. Two sets of feathery wings tormented her outstretched underarms and occasionally brushed against her sensitive neck. Millie became frantic, she hated having her neck touched; it was beyond tickling and brought about the most desperate panic. As the slim brunette reach a crescendo of panic and rage her captor eased off chuckling.
“Well that lasted longer than I expected, it seems being in bondage not only enhances your sensitivity it keeps you ticklish for longer…”
“Just… let… me… out!” Millie weakly begged.
“Oh… Not yet…. Not even close to yet!... I have one more thing to test before we even move on to the coffin phase!” her captor announced.
Before Millie could respond, or even think about the awful ‘coffin-phase’ the cruel woman mused;
“Now should I spend a luxurious amount of time tying these toes back one by one, or shall I just put you into bondage instantly like this!”
Millie shrieked as she felt her toes be rapidly pulled back to the wooden stocks, suddenly secured by little strings to brass eyelets. The bondage was sudden and terrible. Her toes were fully spread out and immobile.
“No! Let me go! I hate not being able to move!” Millie protested.
Amongst the many request Millie had received when selling picture of her feet, people often asked her to tie her toes and it had taken her a while to understand the requests. She hated bondage but would happily wrap some string around her toes for money knowing full well she could just untie them herself after taking the pictures. But this was different, now each and every toe was tied back and immobile, stretching her arches taut.
“I think one last play with these feet, and then maybe that lovely neck of yours and then it is coffin time!”
“No not my neck!” Millie wailed.
The slim brunette’s pleas were lost in laughter as the cruel creature resumed tickling her now immobile feet. Millie tried to curl and wiggle her toes but the horrible strings held them in a state of near-complete immobility. She hated not being able to move and found the variable tickly touches annoying. She was also terrified, the strange creature tormenting her seemed to have become less feminine and more demonic; it laughed a deep laugh and extended a long twisting tongue that seemed to end in feathers. Many hands tickled Millie’s soft immobile arches as the strange tongue flickered between her outstretched toes. Millie became frantic, she hated horror movies and now she was in one!
The foot tickling continued to annoy Millie but eventually she stopped laughing and just tried to focus on her captor who seemed to change form and not quite come into focus. As Millie stopped laughing the awful apparition at the foot of the stocks seemed to crystallise back into the demoness- secretary that had greeted her.
“So foot-ticklishness eventually wears off even when in complete bondage…” The cruel woman contemplated before adding; “…Although varying tools and technique may extend this with the need for a feedback loop…”
“Who are you?” Millie asked, interrupting her strange captor. She was terrified but trying to gain control of the situation somehow.
“I am your worst nightmare!” The strange woman answered.
Millie trembled, normally she would have found the horror-movie shtick infuriating but it was different when she was in bondage and her captor could seem to bend the laws of reality at a whim. For now Millie’s focus was on the woman who was laying out a devilish array of tools on to the top of the stocks. There were feathers and brushes, which Millie understood could tickle. But there were also other things; hairbrushes, mascara brushes, electric toothbrushes, other dental / medical devices and strange metal spiky wheels on handles. It took a moment for Millie to realise how many requests from ‘the pervs’ had involved these things, she had often not understood what they wanted and had frustrated them.
Amongst all the terrifying implements of torture: the little spiky metal wheels frightened Millie the most; she had never seen them before and was sure they were intended to hurt her.
“Now we shall see how varying between tools affects these lovely soles!” her cruel captor gloated.
“No don’t!.... Leave my feet alone!” Millie pleaded, she had never thought being tickled could be so torturous but being trapped definitely made it worse.
Her cruel captor started by selecting a pair of stiff white goose plume which she ran up Millie’s arches before using them to teasing her toes. Millie shrieked and struggled, next the woman used the points of the feathers to trace devilish design all over her soles. Extra arms allowed the woman to use fluffier feather son her toes whilst swapping between the stiff feathers and prickly quill points on her arches.
The cruel woman would never stick to one spot or technique, but eventually Millie stopped laughing and resumed threatening the woman. She wished she hadn’t, as the cruel woman selected a pair of the electric toothbrushes which were a thousand times worse on her toes. Growing extra arms again the demonic secretary selected two circular mechanical cleaning brushes to torment her victim’s arches, whilst still keeping the toothbrushes dancing in a random pattern over her the trapped writhing toes and every delightful spot between them.
Millie was going insane, she had never thought she could be tortured this way but it was starting to make her feel very helpless and very small. Whilst she took good care of her feet she would occasionally treat herself and a few friends to pedicure and could never understand why the other soft-soled women continued to laugh and giggle after the first few touches, now she understood.
Next the cruel woman used the odd medical /dental devices which she explained were electric flossers. Millie had used manual inter-dental brushes to try and satisfy a client and had never even heard of things but: boy how they tickled her!
They made Millie wail and gasp as the cruel woman explored her helpless toes with two of them, then four, then twelve of them, sprouting extra arms to really torture the hysterical woman, finding every unknown uncharted tickle spot which she could return to again when her poor victim least suspected it.
Just as Millie thought things couldn’t get any worse her cruel captor picked up one of the terrible spiky metal wheels and ran a fingertip over its sharp metal spikes.
“NO!!!!... DON’T TORTURE ME WITH THAT!... THAT LOOKS LIKE IT WILL FUCKING HURT” Millie screamed in terror.
“Not unless I apply too much pressure…” Her cruel captor explained slowly running the terrible metal when from Millie’s heel, over her arch to the ball of her right foot.
Millie shrieked, hating the new sensations. Her cruel captor selected a second such implement and began working on her left foot. Slowly she found that these cruel devices where effective almost everywhere on Millie’s feet, but especially on her arches and heels. They also worked well as first when used to trace a path across the balls of Millie’s feet but the cruel woman found that but using two per foot on Millie’s heels and arches was the most effective, especially when combined with flossers and electric toothbrushes on her victim’s hypersensitive toes.
Millie descended into silent laughter, this was the worst torture she had ever experienced. She would have given anything to make the sensations stop and had she been able to speak, she would have offered!
Finally the horrible tickle-tools were removed and Millie was treated to brief reprieve as her soles were oiled with a warm scented oil. Her soles and face were red and Millie resented her own moans as the foot massage felt sublime after the assault on her senses. Any relief she felt was short lived as the woman held up the next tickle-toy: the hairbrush.
“Oh my God what are you going to do with that!... That can’t possibly tickle?! Please don’t hit me with that!” Millie wailed.
“We might experiment with some bastinado and roasting later! But I am not here to hurt you, just torture you… And I am sorry but you are quite wrong if you think these things don’t tickle!”
Millie screamed as she felt the awful brush tips on her oiled and sensitive skin. She had been asked for pictures of her doing this to her soles, but had just found the plastic bobbles gave her a weird ‘ookie’ sensation when she was the in control of them. The cruel woman used a variety of hairbrushes, asking Millie how each one felt until her prize reached the stage of silent laughter and could not answer.
“Now these ones know a special trick!... The dreadful demoness announced holding two large black hairbrushes up for her victim to see during one of the many little brief breaks she allowed her victim to prevent her from becoming too accustomed to the constant torment.
“…. They vibrate!”
Millie watched in terror as the brushes came to life, the little plastic bobbles on the ends of the hairbrush bristles hummed just like her ;special little helper’. Millie whimpered and dreaded the new sensations that were to come. As they landed they took her to a whole new level of torment, a ball-gag was prestidigitated in her mouth making her scream in rage at the impossibility of its sudden appearance. The awful torture had just reached the stage were she was about to bite down on her lips, but instead bit into the soft cherry-tasting gag.
The large vibrating hairbrushes were replaced by smaller ones with sharper bristles that could really get into her arches. Finally her cruel captor allowed her a longer reprieve as she settled on the last hairbrush in her collection. Millie desperately tried to take in air as the cruel horned woman gloated over her prized possession, she had been talking for a while before Millie finally regained her composure enough to pay attention.
“…It is a copy of course, I let the woman who made this keep the original…” The woman explained as Millie’s eyes slowly rolled and refocused.
“….but I admire something about the human spirit in this object. You see, some women long to experience what you have just felt and /or inflict such torment on others…”
Millie listened and tried to focus her tear-stained eyes on the object; ‘what was so different about this hairbrush…’
“… And they tend to collect items that they know can be used to tickle; feathers, old electric toothbrushes, hairbrushes… and when they do this, those that are functional, everyday items, tend to go out of circulation as it were and not continue to be used for their primary purpose. Especially if their owners are ever lucky enough to get to use them on feet…”
Millie tried to focus on the awful artefact but also whimpered and looked away, her ball-gag was gone now and she piteously pleaded to be released.
“… Now the original black plastic bobbles had come off this hairbrush you see… leaving sharp plastic that scratched its owner scalp and would also scratch soles in the wrong way if used as a torture-toy… leaving red marks rather than the general red your lovely soles have turned now!…” As she spoke the cruel woman ran a fingernail up one of Millie’s arches making her let out an
“Eeeep!” as she realised she was still helpless, still ticklish!
So!... and here is the real genius!....” The cruel woman continued;
“This woman took her feather collection, cut off the points of the feathers and then glued them over the tops of hairbrush prongs using the little hollow bits inside the feathers: where ink used to go, to hold the glue… meaning that a grand total of ninety-nine quill tips are now presented at roughly the same height….”
Millie looked aghast and gulped, remembering how terribly ticklish just one such quill-tip had felt on her soles.
“… roughly the same that is!... You see all the quill points all just a few millimetres off from standing proudly at the same height. And not only that but each and every one is slightly different!”
Millie whimpered, trying not to imagine nearly a hundred of the awful quill points moving in unison…. ‘There was something about the way the points had that little hollow in the middle!’ Her captor continued to talk as the slim brunette wiggled her fingers nervously, her terror fighting exhaustion for her previous ordeal.
“… But that isn’t where it ends…” The woman began before noticing her captive’s fatigue….
“You can’t focus!... I tickled you a little too far into madness and exhaustion! Hold on let me roll you back!...” The cruel woman rambled excitedly.
With a gesture the strange woman rotated one hand quickly, reversing time so that her victim was back at the stage she had been when the feathers had just been put away...
Millie screamed, this new sensation was terrifying. One second she had been exhausted and now she was back to the nervous apprehension she had felt earlier. She could still remember the awful brushes on her oiled soles but her previously red, shiny soles were now as smooth as silk: a fresh canvas for torment.
“… So without those tears in your eyes you may now be able to see what this clever woman did with the feather-plumes she cut off from the quills….” The sadistic secretary continued to explain.
“…. She threaded them between the holes in the paddle of the hairbrush and with true ingenuity and skill she found a way to make and internal device built into the hairbrush make them vibrate and swish in such a way that each and every feather dances a few millimetres higher than the general level of the quill-tips.
Millie whimpered as the awful item came into focus. She somehow knew that the strange woman having this ability to reverse time meant she would feel the full effect of this terrible tickle-tool, possibly more than once. Frantically she pleaded;
“Please don’t use that on my feet!”
“Oh I am going to use this on your feet Millie!... I am going to use this to torture your soft and sensitive feet and enjoy watching you squirm!” The cruel woman explained slowly.
“No!....” Millie wailed.
“Oh Yes!... and there is nothing you can do to stop me!.. You’re trapped down here and you are mine to play with!” The cruel woman goaded, lowering the terrible tickle tool towards Millie’s helpless back-bound toes.
She made sure that the awful tickle-tool would stay in sight as she clicked the switch on the back of the handle to set the feathers to vibrate and swish back and forth.
Millie whimpered as she heard six more clicks and watched the feathers come to life. She did not see the little switch on the back of the brush which went from;
– OFF – LOW – SWISH – MEDIUM – SWISH – HIGH –SWISH – RANDOM.
“And that is another thing, it has a random setting!... which is worst of all as the victim can never get used to it” As she spoke the sadistic secretary held the device up to show the feathers vibrate with variable intensity and swish back and forth randomly. Millie could see that not all the feathers were vibrating at the same intensity or swishing back and forth at the same time and somehow just new that this would be worse than if they just vibrated on one setting.
“But I think I will start on low for now!” The cruel woman added, sliding her thumb on the back of the large hairbrushes handle to return it to the ‘Low’ setting.
Millie whimpered as the device was brought closer and closer to her trapped taut arches. Softly the feather tips were applied first to her sole of her right foot, the soft fronds only tickled slightly at first, less so than the surprise assault of the woman’s fingertip on her left arch which made her shriek.
Next the hairbrush was pushed closer such that the awful prickly quill tips made contact with Millie’s soft arches. The effect was terrible as the feathers changed the way they danced, being designed to respond to changes in pressure. The cruel woman eased back and flicked her thumb to activate the swish setting that caused the feathers to quickly swipe from left to right within the slots in the casing of the hairbrush between each row of nine quills. Millie shrieked at the surprise sensation and continued to giggle as the hairbrush was set to ‘medium’. This torture continued until her captor activated the swish setting again, a new facet of the cruel brush was that if the button was pushed down on ‘swish mode’ the feathers twirled in a circle rather than flickering back and forth, something Millie did not appreciate discovering.
The dreadful demoness made full use of the brush’s many little tricks whilst swapping between low and medium to see which tickled her victim the worst. Finally the hairbrush was set to ‘high’ proving that the faster the feathers moved the worse they tickled, but they were still not as bad as the awful quill tips that they danced between: no two of which felt the same on Millie’s hypersensitive soles. When the device was set to random Millie lost control and started to thrash in her bonds, the ball-gag reappearing as she was pushed into a hysterical, desperate and impossible attempt to escape. Little strings appeared to splay out Millie’s fingers and hold them still as she balled her fists tightly in an attempt to block out the sensations, her short but sharp nails would have drawn blood from her palms if her bondage was not completed this way. Millie tried to look up to see who was doing this but was too frantic to and the wooden wrist-stocks blocked her view anyway. Her torture only stopped when the hairbrush broke.
“Ah! That is the fatal flaw of this tickle-tool! One that makes its inventor use the real version very sparingly!...” The cruel woman explained as her victim desperately sucked down air during this reprieve, tugging at her new finger restraints and hating the fact she was now almost entirely immobile.
“Luckily I am outside of time so I don’t need to spend many hours trying to fix it, I can just collect an unbroken copy from my cache… In fact I might collect two of these! One for each foot!”
Millie screamed a futile scream of rage as the sadistic secretary produced two identical custom-modified torture brushes. One had been bad enough but now there was one for each foot. The cruel woman made her suffer through each setting again only with the awful feathers and dreaded quill tips dancing over each of her feet at the same time. Millie did not lose any sensitivity as the sensations kept changing and after what felt like an eternity her captor blindfolded her and decided she would torment her upper body with feathers and fingers whilst the brushes remained at her soles. Millie could not see how there were extra ticklers now and just suffered and whimpered, being taken to the edge of her endurance once more. Finally she was broken and just broke down in tears, sobbing into her blindfold; the tears mixing with saliva on her gag and running down her chin.
“Aww poor thing!... Did I push you too far!... This time you broke before the brushes did!” the cruel secretary mockingly reassured her victim like a pet as she removed the wet blindfold, adding sweetly;
“It will all be okay in a second, I will just roll back time again and this time I will wipe your memory. Or at least make the traumatic experience inaccessible to you until later…”
Suddenly Millie found herself ungagged and un-blindfolded blinking as if she had just walked into a room and forgotten what she needed and why she was there. She was sure she had just been wearing a blindfold but the last thing she remembered was the cruel woman tickling her all over with many arms and some wings and then she had talked about tickling her neck!
Millie was sure something else had happened and had deep, dark sense she had forgotten something important. The slim brunette did not have long to worry about this, as the cruel woman approached her with one noodle-like arm extending impossibly with the hand holding a long plume.
“No!.... stay the Fuck away from my neck!” The enraged brunette barked.
“I have my tests to run, and I think this might be key! You see I have noticed you cease being ticklish on any spot if I stay there too long and don’t surprise you somehow or tickle you somewhere else to keep you frantic… But I think that earlier I found that your neck is an exception….”
“Seriously I will fucking sue you! I will fucking get you put in prison for kidnap and assault!” Millie threatened.
“The long arm of the law can’t reach down here darling!....” The strange woman quipped, extending the feather-holding hand on an ever-lengthening arm that seemed to move like a snake, twisting and twirling in an impossible way as it looped back on itself.
“….But my long arms can tickle you anywhere, anyhow!” The sadist continued, loving the look of fear in her victim’s eyes.
It was like something from a cartoon, had Millie not hated anything surreal or strange it would have been comical. The arm went behind her where she could not see, switching from this side to that before teasing her underarms with the feather and eventually exploring her ears. Frantically Millie tried to struggle and thrash to prevent her most hated spots being teased. The woman laughed at her victim’s helplessness and clicked her fingers, now a leather strap held Millie’s head at the brow back to something, something wooden….
“No!... stop!... I hate this!” Millie protested as she was now totally immobile, she had not noticed that her fingers had been tied back like her toes, ‘when had that happened!’
“Such a sensitive… sexy… gorgeous… ‘Got-Milf!’….. Oooh!... I have got you!... You are such a ‘Got-Milf!’…” the cruel woman teased as she teased Millie under her chin and prestidigitating two sets of hands to tickle the palms of her victim’s hands, a response to recognition that her captive had realised the new, unremembered bondage.
“Don’t call me that!” Millie protested, hating the word.
“Hmmm! I suppose you are technically a M.I.L.T….” The woman purred as she ran the feather softly down Millie’s neck.
Millie giggled and squirmed, she hated how this woman had complete control over her.
“Yes!.. a soft, sensitive, sexy: Mother I would Like to Tickle!” Her captor purred in a sing-song voice.
“A terribly ticklish: Mother I would Like to Tease!” The sexy secretary continued as she flickered the feathers back into Millie’s helpless ears.
“No!....” Millie protested desperately but weakly.
“A soft and sensual: Mother I would like to Torment!” The dreadful demoness whispered as she focused on all of Millie’s worst spots adding feathers to ensure her captor lost control.
“A silky, sexy, squealing… Mother I would Like to Torture!” The awful apparition finalised before using an impossible number of feathers to drive her victim over the edge exciting every spot that was vulnerable and helpless to the soft infuriating touches.
Millie lost control, her neck was a worst spot and she hated having it touched. Her captor was absolutely right and she did not lose any sensitivity or manage to gain control over herself like she normally did with other spots. The cruel woman relished this and resumed finding ways to tickle her upper body, sides and soles at the same time. Millie didn’t see how the woman was tickling her through tear stained eyes, she just laughed and squirmed and suffered. The tickling went on a long time. Normally Millie would have stopped laughing but between her captor’s expertise, and the awful unpredictable touches to her neck: this time she just kept laughing and squirming. Millie was red faced and enraged.
“FUCKING STOP!!!!.... I WILL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!!..... JUST LET ME GO!... I WON’T TELL ANYONE!.... I SWEAR TO GO-HOO-HOO!....” Millie barked, being tickled for longer and with more expert skill than she ever had been before, at least for longer than she remembered being tickled before.
Cruelly her captor just kept tickling her, until between her threats and please Millie cried out:
“THIS STOOL IS HURTING MY BUM!”
Cackling her captor eased off the torment, bringing her own extra limbs back into her amorphous form. Before quipping.
“Well then I guess it’s time to Rack-A-MILT!!!!”
As she spoke the strange secretary waved a hand commanding the bondage equipment to move. The wooden stool disappeared into thin air and before she knew it Millie was stretched out taut between the foot stocks and those holding her wrists. Her feet were still as they were: totally immobile in the stocks and toe-ties. But the wooden restraints that had held her arms up towards the ceiling were now pulling her back as far as she could go in the opposite direction. Millie didn’t need anything to support her in her new face-up position as she was stretched out so tight she couldn’t move and inch, something she hated.
“Noooo! Don’t stretch me like this! I hate not being able to move!...”
Millie did not have long to protest as the sadistic secretary resumed tickling her all over. The feathers teasing her neck kept Millie from being able to regain her composure. Meanwhile her captor took delight in returning to every spot she had mapped on her delectable prize’s body. From her underarms, sides, tummy, legs and knees only a few savoured spots were spared: little treats for later to be devoured at the right time.
One sweet-spot that had so far been spared was Millie’s belly button which proved to be a goldmine, especially when the cruel woman use one flat hand to support her back underneath to really make her feel helpless. A swirling exploring finger had a completely different effect on Millie making her squeak and yelp little but loud comical yelps of laughter like a small dog barking.
Millie hated the way the woman had complete control over her; the sexy, sadistic secretary could do anything she wanted to her in this position: and she did!...
Unable to escape or become used to the unpredictable and infuriating sensations Millie just suffered and struggled. Millie did not notice at first, but her body was responding in an unusual way: her nipples were hardening and there was a fire in her libido that had been absent for a long time. She desperately hoped that she would not climax or wet herself, she did want to give the woman the satisfaction, but found herself getting hot when her thighs were teased under the hem of the awful itchy gown. Even worse, when her sides were teased Millie felt the coffee she had drunk in the supermarket café fight against the pelvic floor exercises she did religiously after giving birth to the twins, wanting to get back to peak form.
When the cruel woman finally stopped Millie continued to laugh and gibber as phantom tickles flickered through her quivering, twitching nervous system. It took her a while to realise the torment had stopped. As she came to, red faced with her heart pounding she felt oddly revitalised. Adrenaline and the urge to escape filled her and she thrashed in rage, hating being in bondage.
“Such passion!... Such fire!... I think I may hunt you before I duplicate your sexy mind and body in my special coffin!”
Millie was delirious, she vaguely remembered the dreadful demoness saying something about a ‘coffin phase’ earlier which filled her claustrophobic mind with dread. She did not like the idea of being ‘hunted’ much better.
“This may even hep cure your claustrophobia and fear of bondage….” Her captor mused quietly thinking: ‘If I do this right, she will learn that she is not tightly and snuggly secured for torment, the deep dark dread of the unknown is the only alternative…’
Suddenly Millie was released from the awful wooden restraints that had held her captive and she was falling again. She screamed as the floor seemed to fall out of her soul, to experience this twice in one day made this the worst nightmare she had ever had. The tickle torment had been so vivid. Millie hoped as she fell that she would wake up and be able to forget this horrible nightmare….
Oh how she desperately Millie hoped this was just a nightmare she would wake up from…
- - - -
End of Part 1
