NewerThanNew! "When your husband cums, he's mine!" Part 6. F/f, F/m. Nonconsentual
Getting close to the end now. A couple more parts left. Hope everyone enjoys the end.
Lori was caught in the throes of passion, faced flushed, body writhing, moans and groans escaping from tight lips. The woman pleasuring her leaned in close, touching her most private of places. It almost looked like a moment of shared intimacy between two lesbian lovers. Only the look in Lori’s eyes, as similar to a deer caught in the head lights, suggested she was not a willing participant in this sexual act.
Lori was beyond panicked, much closer to terror stricken. With her arms and legs bound, she was absolutely helpless. There was nothing she could do to prevent this woman from touching her between her legs. All she could do was lie there and feel that familiar warm sensation building up inside her. Yet, this time, it was all wrong.
She knew she could not climax at the hands of this woman. In this awful place, to surrender sexually was to surrender in all ways, yet she seemed unable to resist her knowing touch. But how could she not resist?! Orgasms were hard for her! Even when she wanted one, in bed with Donovan or alone in the shower, she wasn’t always able to. She had to be in the right frame of mind, able to push everything else out. Surely NOT having an orgasm should have been simple, like not flying, or not solving an impossible math problem.
But it was anything but. That damned finger kept stroking her clitoris, so skilled and tender. Lori found her body responding to it, like it never had with Donovan’s clumsy touch. She tried to distract herself by silently reciting the names of the states or the presidents. She tired to put herself in the kind of mood that usually short circuited her libido, disgusting herself by remembering the bloody scenes from those horror movies Donovan always drug her too, or angry, by remembering the fights she had with those pinhead in accounting. Nothing worked.
NOTHING WORKED!!! The pleasure kept building, her blood kept boiling, racing through her veins. Her hips wanted to thrust and her breasts ached to be touched. Lori tried so hard to block out the sensations coming from her loins, but they were slowly seeping through. It was like being in the middle of a flood, watching the water slowly getting higher and higher. You could slow the water, using sand bags, or standing on a table, but you couldn’t make it stop rising!
Lori gritted her teeth, trying to summon every last bit of her willpower, but she had the horrible feeling all she was doing was delaying the inevitable.
Her assailant, Deb, was nearly as stressed. This should have been her moment of triumph, but somehow it was slipping through her fingers. Why wouldn’t this woman cum?! Lori had been resisting for nearly fifteen minutes now! No one had ever resisted Deb’s touch for so long. How could this woman, so inexperienced, do it?
The Mistress would not be happy. She had promised this woman to Deb, provided that Deb could break her first. Lori was to be Deb’s first tickle toy, the first woman Deb would be able to truly dominate. It was a great honor! It had not been that long ago that Deb had been a tickle toy, made to laugh and moan at somebody else whim. If the Mistress was watching, as she certainly was, if she decided that Deb wasn’t strong enough to break Lori’s will the Mistress would decide Deb was unworthy and make her a submissive for the rest of her life!
Deb kept stroking Lori’s privates gently, calmly. She had to resist the temptation to just touch her harder and faster. This was not some man, whose sexual urges could be overwhelmed by brute force. She had to coax Lori’s libido over the line, like getting a deer to take food from your hand. Move to fast, and you would frighten it away.
She kept her other hand on the inside of Lori’s thigh, trying to feel her heart beat through the flesh. Deb knew she had this woman right on the edge, like a safe cracker with just one number left in the combination to figure out. Every now and then, she’d give that thigh a quick tickle, trying to disrupt Lori’s concentration, but most of Deb’s attention was focused on her index finger stroking Lori’s clitoris, trying to find that one perfect spot, that one stroke that would cause all Lori’s tumblers to fall into place and release her massive orgasm.
With that silent war going on, it was no wonder that neither woman even realized a third person was in the gymnasium until a hockey stick came crashing down on Deb’s head.
It took a few minutes for Lori’s brain to realize that the sensations rocking her body had stopped. It took a few more for her eyes to focus on the new person standing in front of her. It was not until then that Lori realized her old friend Melissa had saved her.
Melissa had obviously been through her own struggle. She was standing in front of Lori completely naked, even her panties had been stripped away. Her dark hair looked like a birds nest, and her face was dirty from sweat and tears. Red marks covered her slender arms and legs.
Lori opened her mouth to speak, but she had to catch the words before they came out. While the logical side of Lori’s brain felt immense relief at being saved, part of her was still hungry for the orgasm that had been denied her. Lori had almost asked her best friend to finish the job! She blushed and took a minute to control her run away thoughts before speaking.
“Thank god you’re here, Melissa. Get me out of this please.” Lori begged.
“That might be hard. The net is wrapped around your arms and chest pretty tightly,” There was a strange look in Melissa’s eyes that Lori had never seen before.
“Then could you at least take the gold bands off of my ankles? I don’t know how, but its like they weigh half a ton! I can’t move my legs with them on.” Without those anklets, Lori could at least stand up and walk around the room. Surely they could find some way to get the volleyball net off of her torso then.
“Is that a fact?” Melissa asked with smile, and the look on her face got even stranger. Lori felt a cold chill run up her spine as she remembered they way the friends had turned on each other before splitting up in the maze.
But…Melissa couldn’t still be mad about that…could she?
*****************
About the same time that Lori had entered the room made up to look like a school gymnasium, Melissa had entered a strange room of her own. By that point, she too, had fought her way through several tickling challenges. She had crawled through a tunnel with somebody above her tickling the bare backs of her thighs and knees. And she had crossed the room where every tile had held a new and worse way to torment her bare feet. Neither had left her prepared, however, for what she had found next.
It was an art gallery. The walls had been covered with a wide variety of paintings, while white marble statues, mostly female nudes, were scattered around the middle of the room. Finding a museum in such a strange place was as bizarre as Lori finding the gymnasium.
Melissa walked into the museum, her eyes flicking from side to side. After everything she had been through, she knew this place held a trap of some kind. All she had to do was find it. Then she saw something that pushed any thoughts a trap out of her mind.
One of the pictures was a photograph of her husband Neal from the waist up. He was lying on a table, naked holding a woman’s foot in his hands. He was pressing her sole against her lips, and appeared to be kissing it. The background was blurry, and Melissa couldn’t tell how long ago the photograph had been taken, but the foot didn’t appear to be hers. It had longer toes with a purple shade of nail polish she never wore.
Melissa was stunned. Her husband had a strong foot fetish. For him, kissing another woman’s toes was as much an act of infidelity as making love with her, maybe more so. A jealous fire and a feeling of betrayal started burning in Melissa’s heart.
Then the picture started moving, and Melissa realized that it hadn’t been a photo, but a frozen video image. Now Melissa could watch her husband kiss the sole from heel to toes while caressing its top. She could hear the moans and pants that Neal only emitted during sex. Then the camera pulled back, showing the entire room, and that slow burning fire of jealousy erupted into a bonfire.
The scene in the picture was happening now! Neal was still in that same room where Melissa had watched him being tickled and tormented an hour earlier! And that foot with the purple nail polish belonged to the redhead who had done the tickling! This was the woman that she was supposed to be saving Neal from!
“Are you sure you want my little piggies?” the redhead was asking, teasing Neal by slowly pulling her foot away from his mouth.
“Yes, yes please let me have it! I need it so badly!,” Neal was saying holding her foot even tighter. Now his tongue was out, licking her sole furiously, as if trying to taste every square inch of it. Melissa remembered all the times she had let Neal lick her own foot, sometimes while she stroked his manhood, and started to feel ill.
And his hands were untied!!! All this time, Melissa had pictured her husband lying their, so helpless, being tortured while he was unable to defend himself. But, as soon as his hands were freed, instead of fighting back or trying to escape, her husband became a willing participant! How dare he!!! How dare he!!!
“Tell me how pretty my foot is.,” the redhead was saying, wiggling her toes on his cheek, “Tell me how sexy it is. Tell me, or I‘ll take it away and you‘ll never touch it again” Then she turned, looked directly at Melissa and winked! Winked! How dare she! If Melissa had been a cartoon character, fire would have shot from her eyes.
“You have the prettiest, softest, most wonderful foot I‘ve ever seen,” Neal said, kissing the redhead’s sole between every word. “I’ll do anything if you let me hold it, fondle it. Anything!”
Melissa could hear the lust in her husbands voice, the pure sexual need, and knew his words were true. He preferred that woman’s feet to hers. She couldn’t have felt worse if Neal had announced he was leaving her for that woman. At that moment, she didn’t know whether she wanted to cry or strangle both of them.
What Melissa couldn’t know was what had been done to Neal to reduce him to his current state. The redhead had taunted him with that foot for what seemed forever, pressing her foot against his unwilling lips, forcing him to taste her sweet toes, allowing its fragrant odors to drift up Neal’s nostrils. And he had resisted. Not an easy task for a man with a foot fetish.
That had forced the redhead to play dirty. A second woman, unseen by Neal, had slid under the table he was lying on. The table had panels that slid open, and the mystery woman opened one directly beneath Neal‘s bottom, causing his bare butt to drop through. She had then started tickling his cheeks like crazy, raking long fingernails over skin that never saw the light of day.
Neal had howled, screaming with laughter louder than at any other point since his capture. This was a spot that even Melissa had never touched him, and it was even more devastatingly ticklish than he would have feared. Those nails scraped up at down, wiggled and squirmed like worms and pinched like lobster claws. And Neal couldn’t even see them, had no idea which part of his butt would be attacked next.
After allowing him to suffer for a while, the redhead had calmly offered Neal a deal. Suck her toes, or the mystery tickler would keep working on his taut ass. At that point, the tickler had started dragging her nails up and down Neal’s crack. That tickled even more, forcing Neal to scream himself horse. Only a few seconds of having his ass crack tickled made him want to chew his own arms off to escape.
At that point, Neal lost it. Given the choice between heaven and hell, he chose heaven, to taste those toes as he had been dying to ever since he had first seen them. And the redhead didn’t stop there. She made more demands, forcing Neal to kiss and lick her as she wanted. And if he so much as hesitated, the mystery tickler went back to work on his butt, plunging Neal back into agony.
Even on the video, as Melissa watched in an ever growing rage, the mystery woman was still lying under the table, her nails positioned to tickle Neal’s worst spots if he so much as breathed wrong. He might as well have had a gun to his head. But Melissa knew nothing about that. All she saw was her husband enjoying his favorite part of another woman. And hell hath no fury as a woman scorned.
But so absorbed was Melissa at what was happening in the video, she never noticed that the statue behind her was moving! Like some ancient golem, the stone arms reached forward and hard fingers latched onto both of Melissa’s forearms, pulling them backwards.
“Hey!” she yelled, frantically twisting and pulling, trying to free her arms, but the grip on them was like rock itself, and she had as much chance of breaking it as she did a boulder with her bare hands.
Then, standing in front of her, was another brunette, twin sister of the one who was at that moment tickling Lori on the wrestling matt. She was dressed exactly like her sister, in a skimpy lingerie that barely covered or protected anything. And the smile on her face was the same too, the one that the wolf would wear when it cornered the rabbit.
Melissa remembered being tortured by the twins earlier, forced to hold that damn bar while their fingers roamed all over her body, and a chill ran up her back. Then, at least, she could end the torture by simply letting go, even if it meant her husband paying the price. This time, she couldn’t get away. Any hope that that wasn’t what was on the brunette’s agenda died with her first words.
“Deb was the one who got the pleasure of touching you then, but now its my turn to have some fun,” she said in a sing-song voice, “And I know where your ticklish.” Her eyes, locked on Melissa’s boobs with a leering gaze left little doubt to where that place was.
“Try it,” Melissa snarled, “And I’ll kick you so hard…” she left the threat unfinished. Her panic and sense of desperation was growing. She couldn’t help but remember first time her breasts had been tickled in college, the time she had kept secret from everyone in her life except Lori, even seeing that girl’s face superimposed on the brunette’s. Melissa wouldn’t let that happen again!
“I don’t think so,” the woman stepped forward, her hand reaching between her own breasts, pulling out something small and brown.
Melissa tried, shifting her weight and fully intending on driving her small foot into the brunette’s stomach as hard as she could. Before her kick was launched, however, the statue that was holding her stepped forward, crossing one of its long stone legs in front of Melissa’s, blocking any blow she might make.
“Wonderful creations, these statues,” the brunette said smugly, “I don’t know how the Mistress builds them. They respond to your movements, sometimes even before you make them, rendering you completely helpless. Which is bad for you, because I’m about to tickle out of your fucking mind.” She held the small object that she had pulled out of her cleavage in front of Melissa’s face. It was a make-up brush.
“Do you know what I’m going to do with this? I’m going to make you holler. I’m going to make you beg! And just when you can’t take anymore, it’ll get so much worse! You’ll want to jump out of your skin before I’m done!”
Melissa responded with a stream of obscenities that would have made a sailor blush.
“Oh really? Well,” the brunette said, “Maybe you’d like a demonstration before the main event.” She started swishing the brush over Melissa’s cheek, then under her chin. The bristles had a prickly feeling to them, and despite her anger, a smile was immediately forced on Melissa’s face. She pressed her chin against her chest in an effort to protect herself.
“Tickly, ain’t it?” the brunette continued, started to brush Melissa’s neck and shoulders. A light giggle escaped from between her prey’s clenched teeth.
“Enough warm up. Let’s have some fun.” The brush was suddenly on Melissa’s right breast, covering the soft skin in fuzzy tickles. The brunette didn’t have to wait long for a reaction.
“Ha aha ahahah ahahah naawwooow h ah ahahahhhahhah youuuhuuu bitttchchchch ha ahahhahahah ahah ahahahahah……” Melissa’s breasts, a bit on the smallish side, were quite firm and sensitive. She wasn’t able to hold back her response even a second, laughing as soon as the brush touched her flesh. She tried to twist her body from side to side to avoid it, but the stone fingers on her arms held her firmly in place.
“Poor little Missy,” the brunette taunted, dusting the underside of Melissa’s breast, “She‘s got ticklish boobies! She‘s got ticklish boobies! Tell me how ticklish your little boobs are Missy! Tell me!”
“AHAHAH A AHAH no no no no a ah HA AHAHAHAAH Dooonnn’ttt ha ahA AHAHAHH ACAAHHHH CAAALLLLLLL HA AHAHHAHA meehehehehehe Missssyyyy aha ahah ahahh AH AHAHA!!!!! PLEAAASSSEEEE STAAWWWPPPPP KIIIMMMMM!!!!!”
“What?” the brunette said in honest confusion. Why would her new tickle toy call her Kim? Her name was Dee! She almost stopped polishing Melissa’s mammary flesh to ask, but then her training kicked in. She had to stay dominant! She had to stay in control! That was what the Mistress had taught her, and she wasn’t going to surrender her upper hand just because her victim babbled something odd.
“It won’t work, little Missy,” the brunette said, “You will tell me what I want to hear. If this isn’t tickling enough, I’ll just have to try harder!” With that, she started swirling the brush around Melissa‘s breast, staring at the outer edge. But every loop was half an inch closer to the bulging nipple in the center of her mammary flesh
“hEHE EHEHHEHEHEH STAWWWPPPP!!!! I‘LLL HE EHEHEehe TEEHEHEH TEELLLLL HE EHEHEH OONNN HE EH EEYOOOUUUHUHUHUU HE EHEH EHEH!!!!!! STAWWPPPPP I I I HE EHEHEHH EHEH NAWWOOOO HE EHEH EHEHE“
“No, not tell ON me, tell me! Tell me what I want to hear, Missy. Tell me how ticklish your boobies are! Tell me how much you hate having them tickled! Tell me, or I‘ll keep tickling them all night.”
But Melissa didn’t. With each circular pass the brush made around her firm boob, she bellowed louder and louder, shaking her head from side to side harder and harder, but still she refused to say the words Dee wanted to hear.
“Trying to be a tough girl, huh? How about if I put the brush here?” She put the bristles directly on Melissa’s nipple, “Last chance before this just gets mean.”
Melissa’s eyes met Dee’s once more. The feeling of déjà vu strongly washing over her. She could remember that girl from college, perched over the same helpless breast, tickling it senseless. Well, she wasn’t going to give in again. Without a sound, Melissa shook her head ‘no’.
Dee smiled her evil grin, and began brushing Melissa’s rock hard nipple, moving the bristles up and down over that most sensitive skin. She didn’t have to wait long for her victim’s reaction.
Melissa lost it, she started cackling at the top of her lungs wildly. Her nipples were the most ticklish spot on her body. With hundreds of wiry bristles caressing one, she was immediately thrown into a ticklish nightmare!
“AH AHAHAHAH AH HAAAAATEEE HA AHAHAHAH I I I HA AHAHAH HAAATTEEE THIIISSS KIIIMMMMMIIIEE AHAHAHAHAHAH!!! UNNNTIIIEEEE MEEEEHEHEHEHE!!!!! UNTIEEEEEHEHEH MEEEHEHEEHEH PLEAASSSEE!! LEEETTTTTSS HA AHAHAHAHA MAAAKKEEE HA AH AHAH LOOOVVEEE HA AHAHAH INSTEAADDD HA AHAHAHAHAAH!!!!! BEFORREE HA AHAH YOOOURRR HA AHAH ROOMMATE HA AHAH COOOMEESS HA AHAH BACKKK HA AHAHAH!!!”
“What are you talking about,” the brunette asked, wondering if her victim had lost her mind only seconds into the torture. Kim? Roommate? She was begging for mercy, but her pleas didn‘t make any sense!
“Stop it!“ She yelled, angry, “I’m Dee. Dee, not this other woman! And Dee isn‘t going to stop tickling you no matter what kind of nonsense you spout!”
But Melissa was lost in time. The tickling on her so vulnerable nipples had flung her mind back to that first time, back to her freshman year in college, back to that incident that had so changed her life. Dee, the museum, even the statue holding her arms faded away. She was back in college, lying on that dorm mattress, tied to the metal frame by some old scarves Kimberly had had in her closet.
She had met Kimberly at a party and been fascinated by her. Melissa had been interested in girls since puberty, but had stuck to men in high school out of fear. Her home town was small, conservative and loved to make outcasts out of those who broke its mores. Melissa hadn’t been rebellious to fight that.
But in here, at the University, she had had the freedom to be herself, so she had let Kim bring her back to her dorm room. Then, after a few wine coolers, a strip tease and some heavy petting, Melissa given in to Kim‘s bondage suggestion. It had been a huge leap of faith for Melissa, and for the rest of her life would serve as the reason she would not make another.
Once Kimberly had tied Melissa’s wrists and ankles to the bed frame, she had begun wiggling her fingers over her half naked body, looking for tickle spots. At first it hadn’t been so bad, a weird kind of foreplay that Melissa had assumed would soon lead into the sexual experience she had come for. But when Kim tickled a spot that got a good reaction, Melissa’s knees or under her arms, she kept returning their, plunging her deeper and deeper into hysteria.
Finally, Kimberly realized that Melissa’s breasts were her worst spot. From that point on, she tickled no other spot. Melissa laughed and screamed until her voice was horse, but no plea for mercy could make Kimberly leave those sensitive orbs alone. Kim had used her fingers, dancing over Melissa’s jiggling flesh, her tongue, with short quick licks, and even some downy feathers that had fallen out of an old pillow. Each one made Melissa laugh harder and harder, made her begging even more pathetic. And the more Melissa suffered, the more enjoyment Kimberly seemed to be having.
It had felt like hours. By the end, Melissa had been reduced to tears, crying between bouts of forced laughter, promising to do anything, anything if Kim would just stop. Melissa’s frustration only seemed to excite Kim more. She took as much enjoyment from Melissa’s suffering as she did from touching her naked body.
In the end, the true pain from the incident hadn’t come from the tickling, but from the betrayal. The first woman Melissa had tried to be intimate with had abused her worse than any man would, past, present or future. After that, Melissa never gave into her lesbian impulses again.
But that was in the past. In the present, it was Dee who was frustrated. Somehow her attack on Melissa was going horribly wrong. Oh, tickling Melissa was no problem. By moving the brush from nipple to nipple, twisting and turning the bristles against her bumpy flesh, she could make wild, uncontrolled laughter pour out of Melissa’s mouth and her body thrash from side to side as much as the statue allowed. She could cause Melissa’s face to flush and sweat to pour down her naked body. But the Mistress had taught Dee that breaking your victim’s body was only the first step. You had to break her mind if you truly wanted to own her.
And it was in breaking Melissa’s mind that Dee knew she was failing. Melissa didn’t respond to any of her taunts or threats. In fact, she seemed totally unaware that Dee was even making them. Instead, she just kept babbling nonsense. In between her deep howls of laughter, Dee could hear Melissa going on about violating the noise rules, about the dorm director writing them both a citation, or about how the scarves were too tight! And she kept calling her Kim! How could you dominate somebody when they didn‘t know you were in the room?
After a while, sensing her prey was about to pass out Dee stopped tickling. An unconscious prey was no closer to being broken than an untickled one. She let Melissa catch her breath while she tried to figure out what to do next.
“Kimmie, please…<gasp>…please,” Melissa said breathlessly, “Let’s just have sex! I’m…I’m not into this kinky stuff. I…I just want to love you. Please, Kimmie.” Her eyes had a strange, unfocused look to them.
Dee shook her head. If she had more experience, she would have tried to put herself into Melissa’s delusion. She could have claimed to be this Kim, tricked Melissa into spilling the details, and worked from there. Instead, she could only think of ways to break Melissa out of whatever spell she was under.
She pulled a small bottle of clear liquid out from another pocket. She had had this stuff used on her, and the thought of using it on another made her flinch. But Dee was out of ideas. It was the lotion or nothing.
“Look,” Dee said, putting her hand on Melissa’s chin and holding the bottle in front of her eyes, “I didn’t want to do this to you, its almost too cruel, but you leave me no choice. This is another of the Mistress’s creations. it’s an edible personal lubricant, but much more slippery than then stuff you buy in stores. It lasts for hours without drying up, and will make any part of your body even more ticklish than it is already. Even those nipples of yours.”
Dee placed one small blob of goo on her hands then spread it all over Melissa’s nipples and breasts. The oily fingers massaging her boobs sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. With the maddening tickling that had first caused Melissa‘s powerful flashback gone, that sensation snapped her back into the present.
Suddenly aware of the present, Melissa looked from the statue still holding her arms, to the oil dripping from her breasts to the brush poking out from between Dee‘s cleavage again. What happened next was obvious, yet dreadful. It was like waking up from a nightmare realizing that you were really in a car plunging off a cliff.
“You wouldn’t,” she said simply, hoping somehow she was right.
And Dee just smiled, knowing for the first time that she had Melissa’s undivided attention. The lotion was put away, and the brush back in her hands.
“I only wish, Melissa, you could enjoy this as much as I’m going too.”
Getting close to the end now. A couple more parts left. Hope everyone enjoys the end.
Lori was caught in the throes of passion, faced flushed, body writhing, moans and groans escaping from tight lips. The woman pleasuring her leaned in close, touching her most private of places. It almost looked like a moment of shared intimacy between two lesbian lovers. Only the look in Lori’s eyes, as similar to a deer caught in the head lights, suggested she was not a willing participant in this sexual act.
Lori was beyond panicked, much closer to terror stricken. With her arms and legs bound, she was absolutely helpless. There was nothing she could do to prevent this woman from touching her between her legs. All she could do was lie there and feel that familiar warm sensation building up inside her. Yet, this time, it was all wrong.
She knew she could not climax at the hands of this woman. In this awful place, to surrender sexually was to surrender in all ways, yet she seemed unable to resist her knowing touch. But how could she not resist?! Orgasms were hard for her! Even when she wanted one, in bed with Donovan or alone in the shower, she wasn’t always able to. She had to be in the right frame of mind, able to push everything else out. Surely NOT having an orgasm should have been simple, like not flying, or not solving an impossible math problem.
But it was anything but. That damned finger kept stroking her clitoris, so skilled and tender. Lori found her body responding to it, like it never had with Donovan’s clumsy touch. She tried to distract herself by silently reciting the names of the states or the presidents. She tired to put herself in the kind of mood that usually short circuited her libido, disgusting herself by remembering the bloody scenes from those horror movies Donovan always drug her too, or angry, by remembering the fights she had with those pinhead in accounting. Nothing worked.
NOTHING WORKED!!! The pleasure kept building, her blood kept boiling, racing through her veins. Her hips wanted to thrust and her breasts ached to be touched. Lori tried so hard to block out the sensations coming from her loins, but they were slowly seeping through. It was like being in the middle of a flood, watching the water slowly getting higher and higher. You could slow the water, using sand bags, or standing on a table, but you couldn’t make it stop rising!
Lori gritted her teeth, trying to summon every last bit of her willpower, but she had the horrible feeling all she was doing was delaying the inevitable.
Her assailant, Deb, was nearly as stressed. This should have been her moment of triumph, but somehow it was slipping through her fingers. Why wouldn’t this woman cum?! Lori had been resisting for nearly fifteen minutes now! No one had ever resisted Deb’s touch for so long. How could this woman, so inexperienced, do it?
The Mistress would not be happy. She had promised this woman to Deb, provided that Deb could break her first. Lori was to be Deb’s first tickle toy, the first woman Deb would be able to truly dominate. It was a great honor! It had not been that long ago that Deb had been a tickle toy, made to laugh and moan at somebody else whim. If the Mistress was watching, as she certainly was, if she decided that Deb wasn’t strong enough to break Lori’s will the Mistress would decide Deb was unworthy and make her a submissive for the rest of her life!
Deb kept stroking Lori’s privates gently, calmly. She had to resist the temptation to just touch her harder and faster. This was not some man, whose sexual urges could be overwhelmed by brute force. She had to coax Lori’s libido over the line, like getting a deer to take food from your hand. Move to fast, and you would frighten it away.
She kept her other hand on the inside of Lori’s thigh, trying to feel her heart beat through the flesh. Deb knew she had this woman right on the edge, like a safe cracker with just one number left in the combination to figure out. Every now and then, she’d give that thigh a quick tickle, trying to disrupt Lori’s concentration, but most of Deb’s attention was focused on her index finger stroking Lori’s clitoris, trying to find that one perfect spot, that one stroke that would cause all Lori’s tumblers to fall into place and release her massive orgasm.
With that silent war going on, it was no wonder that neither woman even realized a third person was in the gymnasium until a hockey stick came crashing down on Deb’s head.
It took a few minutes for Lori’s brain to realize that the sensations rocking her body had stopped. It took a few more for her eyes to focus on the new person standing in front of her. It was not until then that Lori realized her old friend Melissa had saved her.
Melissa had obviously been through her own struggle. She was standing in front of Lori completely naked, even her panties had been stripped away. Her dark hair looked like a birds nest, and her face was dirty from sweat and tears. Red marks covered her slender arms and legs.
Lori opened her mouth to speak, but she had to catch the words before they came out. While the logical side of Lori’s brain felt immense relief at being saved, part of her was still hungry for the orgasm that had been denied her. Lori had almost asked her best friend to finish the job! She blushed and took a minute to control her run away thoughts before speaking.
“Thank god you’re here, Melissa. Get me out of this please.” Lori begged.
“That might be hard. The net is wrapped around your arms and chest pretty tightly,” There was a strange look in Melissa’s eyes that Lori had never seen before.
“Then could you at least take the gold bands off of my ankles? I don’t know how, but its like they weigh half a ton! I can’t move my legs with them on.” Without those anklets, Lori could at least stand up and walk around the room. Surely they could find some way to get the volleyball net off of her torso then.
“Is that a fact?” Melissa asked with smile, and the look on her face got even stranger. Lori felt a cold chill run up her spine as she remembered they way the friends had turned on each other before splitting up in the maze.
But…Melissa couldn’t still be mad about that…could she?
*****************
About the same time that Lori had entered the room made up to look like a school gymnasium, Melissa had entered a strange room of her own. By that point, she too, had fought her way through several tickling challenges. She had crawled through a tunnel with somebody above her tickling the bare backs of her thighs and knees. And she had crossed the room where every tile had held a new and worse way to torment her bare feet. Neither had left her prepared, however, for what she had found next.
It was an art gallery. The walls had been covered with a wide variety of paintings, while white marble statues, mostly female nudes, were scattered around the middle of the room. Finding a museum in such a strange place was as bizarre as Lori finding the gymnasium.
Melissa walked into the museum, her eyes flicking from side to side. After everything she had been through, she knew this place held a trap of some kind. All she had to do was find it. Then she saw something that pushed any thoughts a trap out of her mind.
One of the pictures was a photograph of her husband Neal from the waist up. He was lying on a table, naked holding a woman’s foot in his hands. He was pressing her sole against her lips, and appeared to be kissing it. The background was blurry, and Melissa couldn’t tell how long ago the photograph had been taken, but the foot didn’t appear to be hers. It had longer toes with a purple shade of nail polish she never wore.
Melissa was stunned. Her husband had a strong foot fetish. For him, kissing another woman’s toes was as much an act of infidelity as making love with her, maybe more so. A jealous fire and a feeling of betrayal started burning in Melissa’s heart.
Then the picture started moving, and Melissa realized that it hadn’t been a photo, but a frozen video image. Now Melissa could watch her husband kiss the sole from heel to toes while caressing its top. She could hear the moans and pants that Neal only emitted during sex. Then the camera pulled back, showing the entire room, and that slow burning fire of jealousy erupted into a bonfire.
The scene in the picture was happening now! Neal was still in that same room where Melissa had watched him being tickled and tormented an hour earlier! And that foot with the purple nail polish belonged to the redhead who had done the tickling! This was the woman that she was supposed to be saving Neal from!
“Are you sure you want my little piggies?” the redhead was asking, teasing Neal by slowly pulling her foot away from his mouth.
“Yes, yes please let me have it! I need it so badly!,” Neal was saying holding her foot even tighter. Now his tongue was out, licking her sole furiously, as if trying to taste every square inch of it. Melissa remembered all the times she had let Neal lick her own foot, sometimes while she stroked his manhood, and started to feel ill.
And his hands were untied!!! All this time, Melissa had pictured her husband lying their, so helpless, being tortured while he was unable to defend himself. But, as soon as his hands were freed, instead of fighting back or trying to escape, her husband became a willing participant! How dare he!!! How dare he!!!
“Tell me how pretty my foot is.,” the redhead was saying, wiggling her toes on his cheek, “Tell me how sexy it is. Tell me, or I‘ll take it away and you‘ll never touch it again” Then she turned, looked directly at Melissa and winked! Winked! How dare she! If Melissa had been a cartoon character, fire would have shot from her eyes.
“You have the prettiest, softest, most wonderful foot I‘ve ever seen,” Neal said, kissing the redhead’s sole between every word. “I’ll do anything if you let me hold it, fondle it. Anything!”
Melissa could hear the lust in her husbands voice, the pure sexual need, and knew his words were true. He preferred that woman’s feet to hers. She couldn’t have felt worse if Neal had announced he was leaving her for that woman. At that moment, she didn’t know whether she wanted to cry or strangle both of them.
What Melissa couldn’t know was what had been done to Neal to reduce him to his current state. The redhead had taunted him with that foot for what seemed forever, pressing her foot against his unwilling lips, forcing him to taste her sweet toes, allowing its fragrant odors to drift up Neal’s nostrils. And he had resisted. Not an easy task for a man with a foot fetish.
That had forced the redhead to play dirty. A second woman, unseen by Neal, had slid under the table he was lying on. The table had panels that slid open, and the mystery woman opened one directly beneath Neal‘s bottom, causing his bare butt to drop through. She had then started tickling his cheeks like crazy, raking long fingernails over skin that never saw the light of day.
Neal had howled, screaming with laughter louder than at any other point since his capture. This was a spot that even Melissa had never touched him, and it was even more devastatingly ticklish than he would have feared. Those nails scraped up at down, wiggled and squirmed like worms and pinched like lobster claws. And Neal couldn’t even see them, had no idea which part of his butt would be attacked next.
After allowing him to suffer for a while, the redhead had calmly offered Neal a deal. Suck her toes, or the mystery tickler would keep working on his taut ass. At that point, the tickler had started dragging her nails up and down Neal’s crack. That tickled even more, forcing Neal to scream himself horse. Only a few seconds of having his ass crack tickled made him want to chew his own arms off to escape.
At that point, Neal lost it. Given the choice between heaven and hell, he chose heaven, to taste those toes as he had been dying to ever since he had first seen them. And the redhead didn’t stop there. She made more demands, forcing Neal to kiss and lick her as she wanted. And if he so much as hesitated, the mystery tickler went back to work on his butt, plunging Neal back into agony.
Even on the video, as Melissa watched in an ever growing rage, the mystery woman was still lying under the table, her nails positioned to tickle Neal’s worst spots if he so much as breathed wrong. He might as well have had a gun to his head. But Melissa knew nothing about that. All she saw was her husband enjoying his favorite part of another woman. And hell hath no fury as a woman scorned.
But so absorbed was Melissa at what was happening in the video, she never noticed that the statue behind her was moving! Like some ancient golem, the stone arms reached forward and hard fingers latched onto both of Melissa’s forearms, pulling them backwards.
“Hey!” she yelled, frantically twisting and pulling, trying to free her arms, but the grip on them was like rock itself, and she had as much chance of breaking it as she did a boulder with her bare hands.
Then, standing in front of her, was another brunette, twin sister of the one who was at that moment tickling Lori on the wrestling matt. She was dressed exactly like her sister, in a skimpy lingerie that barely covered or protected anything. And the smile on her face was the same too, the one that the wolf would wear when it cornered the rabbit.
Melissa remembered being tortured by the twins earlier, forced to hold that damn bar while their fingers roamed all over her body, and a chill ran up her back. Then, at least, she could end the torture by simply letting go, even if it meant her husband paying the price. This time, she couldn’t get away. Any hope that that wasn’t what was on the brunette’s agenda died with her first words.
“Deb was the one who got the pleasure of touching you then, but now its my turn to have some fun,” she said in a sing-song voice, “And I know where your ticklish.” Her eyes, locked on Melissa’s boobs with a leering gaze left little doubt to where that place was.
“Try it,” Melissa snarled, “And I’ll kick you so hard…” she left the threat unfinished. Her panic and sense of desperation was growing. She couldn’t help but remember first time her breasts had been tickled in college, the time she had kept secret from everyone in her life except Lori, even seeing that girl’s face superimposed on the brunette’s. Melissa wouldn’t let that happen again!
“I don’t think so,” the woman stepped forward, her hand reaching between her own breasts, pulling out something small and brown.
Melissa tried, shifting her weight and fully intending on driving her small foot into the brunette’s stomach as hard as she could. Before her kick was launched, however, the statue that was holding her stepped forward, crossing one of its long stone legs in front of Melissa’s, blocking any blow she might make.
“Wonderful creations, these statues,” the brunette said smugly, “I don’t know how the Mistress builds them. They respond to your movements, sometimes even before you make them, rendering you completely helpless. Which is bad for you, because I’m about to tickle out of your fucking mind.” She held the small object that she had pulled out of her cleavage in front of Melissa’s face. It was a make-up brush.
“Do you know what I’m going to do with this? I’m going to make you holler. I’m going to make you beg! And just when you can’t take anymore, it’ll get so much worse! You’ll want to jump out of your skin before I’m done!”
Melissa responded with a stream of obscenities that would have made a sailor blush.
“Oh really? Well,” the brunette said, “Maybe you’d like a demonstration before the main event.” She started swishing the brush over Melissa’s cheek, then under her chin. The bristles had a prickly feeling to them, and despite her anger, a smile was immediately forced on Melissa’s face. She pressed her chin against her chest in an effort to protect herself.
“Tickly, ain’t it?” the brunette continued, started to brush Melissa’s neck and shoulders. A light giggle escaped from between her prey’s clenched teeth.
“Enough warm up. Let’s have some fun.” The brush was suddenly on Melissa’s right breast, covering the soft skin in fuzzy tickles. The brunette didn’t have to wait long for a reaction.
“Ha aha ahahah ahahah naawwooow h ah ahahahhhahhah youuuhuuu bitttchchchch ha ahahhahahah ahah ahahahahah……” Melissa’s breasts, a bit on the smallish side, were quite firm and sensitive. She wasn’t able to hold back her response even a second, laughing as soon as the brush touched her flesh. She tried to twist her body from side to side to avoid it, but the stone fingers on her arms held her firmly in place.
“Poor little Missy,” the brunette taunted, dusting the underside of Melissa’s breast, “She‘s got ticklish boobies! She‘s got ticklish boobies! Tell me how ticklish your little boobs are Missy! Tell me!”
“AHAHAH A AHAH no no no no a ah HA AHAHAHAAH Dooonnn’ttt ha ahA AHAHAHH ACAAHHHH CAAALLLLLLL HA AHAHHAHA meehehehehehe Missssyyyy aha ahah ahahh AH AHAHA!!!!! PLEAAASSSEEEE STAAWWWPPPPP KIIIMMMMM!!!!!”
“What?” the brunette said in honest confusion. Why would her new tickle toy call her Kim? Her name was Dee! She almost stopped polishing Melissa’s mammary flesh to ask, but then her training kicked in. She had to stay dominant! She had to stay in control! That was what the Mistress had taught her, and she wasn’t going to surrender her upper hand just because her victim babbled something odd.
“It won’t work, little Missy,” the brunette said, “You will tell me what I want to hear. If this isn’t tickling enough, I’ll just have to try harder!” With that, she started swirling the brush around Melissa‘s breast, staring at the outer edge. But every loop was half an inch closer to the bulging nipple in the center of her mammary flesh
“hEHE EHEHHEHEHEH STAWWWPPPP!!!! I‘LLL HE EHEHEehe TEEHEHEH TEELLLLL HE EHEHEH OONNN HE EH EEYOOOUUUHUHUHUU HE EHEH EHEH!!!!!! STAWWPPPPP I I I HE EHEHEHH EHEH NAWWOOOO HE EHEH EHEHE“
“No, not tell ON me, tell me! Tell me what I want to hear, Missy. Tell me how ticklish your boobies are! Tell me how much you hate having them tickled! Tell me, or I‘ll keep tickling them all night.”
But Melissa didn’t. With each circular pass the brush made around her firm boob, she bellowed louder and louder, shaking her head from side to side harder and harder, but still she refused to say the words Dee wanted to hear.
“Trying to be a tough girl, huh? How about if I put the brush here?” She put the bristles directly on Melissa’s nipple, “Last chance before this just gets mean.”
Melissa’s eyes met Dee’s once more. The feeling of déjà vu strongly washing over her. She could remember that girl from college, perched over the same helpless breast, tickling it senseless. Well, she wasn’t going to give in again. Without a sound, Melissa shook her head ‘no’.
Dee smiled her evil grin, and began brushing Melissa’s rock hard nipple, moving the bristles up and down over that most sensitive skin. She didn’t have to wait long for her victim’s reaction.
Melissa lost it, she started cackling at the top of her lungs wildly. Her nipples were the most ticklish spot on her body. With hundreds of wiry bristles caressing one, she was immediately thrown into a ticklish nightmare!
“AH AHAHAHAH AH HAAAAATEEE HA AHAHAHAH I I I HA AHAHAH HAAATTEEE THIIISSS KIIIMMMMMIIIEE AHAHAHAHAHAH!!! UNNNTIIIEEEE MEEEEHEHEHEHE!!!!! UNTIEEEEEHEHEH MEEEHEHEEHEH PLEAASSSEE!! LEEETTTTTSS HA AHAHAHAHA MAAAKKEEE HA AH AHAH LOOOVVEEE HA AHAHAH INSTEAADDD HA AHAHAHAHAAH!!!!! BEFORREE HA AHAH YOOOURRR HA AHAH ROOMMATE HA AHAH COOOMEESS HA AHAH BACKKK HA AHAHAH!!!”
“What are you talking about,” the brunette asked, wondering if her victim had lost her mind only seconds into the torture. Kim? Roommate? She was begging for mercy, but her pleas didn‘t make any sense!
“Stop it!“ She yelled, angry, “I’m Dee. Dee, not this other woman! And Dee isn‘t going to stop tickling you no matter what kind of nonsense you spout!”
But Melissa was lost in time. The tickling on her so vulnerable nipples had flung her mind back to that first time, back to her freshman year in college, back to that incident that had so changed her life. Dee, the museum, even the statue holding her arms faded away. She was back in college, lying on that dorm mattress, tied to the metal frame by some old scarves Kimberly had had in her closet.
She had met Kimberly at a party and been fascinated by her. Melissa had been interested in girls since puberty, but had stuck to men in high school out of fear. Her home town was small, conservative and loved to make outcasts out of those who broke its mores. Melissa hadn’t been rebellious to fight that.
But in here, at the University, she had had the freedom to be herself, so she had let Kim bring her back to her dorm room. Then, after a few wine coolers, a strip tease and some heavy petting, Melissa given in to Kim‘s bondage suggestion. It had been a huge leap of faith for Melissa, and for the rest of her life would serve as the reason she would not make another.
Once Kimberly had tied Melissa’s wrists and ankles to the bed frame, she had begun wiggling her fingers over her half naked body, looking for tickle spots. At first it hadn’t been so bad, a weird kind of foreplay that Melissa had assumed would soon lead into the sexual experience she had come for. But when Kim tickled a spot that got a good reaction, Melissa’s knees or under her arms, she kept returning their, plunging her deeper and deeper into hysteria.
Finally, Kimberly realized that Melissa’s breasts were her worst spot. From that point on, she tickled no other spot. Melissa laughed and screamed until her voice was horse, but no plea for mercy could make Kimberly leave those sensitive orbs alone. Kim had used her fingers, dancing over Melissa’s jiggling flesh, her tongue, with short quick licks, and even some downy feathers that had fallen out of an old pillow. Each one made Melissa laugh harder and harder, made her begging even more pathetic. And the more Melissa suffered, the more enjoyment Kimberly seemed to be having.
It had felt like hours. By the end, Melissa had been reduced to tears, crying between bouts of forced laughter, promising to do anything, anything if Kim would just stop. Melissa’s frustration only seemed to excite Kim more. She took as much enjoyment from Melissa’s suffering as she did from touching her naked body.
In the end, the true pain from the incident hadn’t come from the tickling, but from the betrayal. The first woman Melissa had tried to be intimate with had abused her worse than any man would, past, present or future. After that, Melissa never gave into her lesbian impulses again.
But that was in the past. In the present, it was Dee who was frustrated. Somehow her attack on Melissa was going horribly wrong. Oh, tickling Melissa was no problem. By moving the brush from nipple to nipple, twisting and turning the bristles against her bumpy flesh, she could make wild, uncontrolled laughter pour out of Melissa’s mouth and her body thrash from side to side as much as the statue allowed. She could cause Melissa’s face to flush and sweat to pour down her naked body. But the Mistress had taught Dee that breaking your victim’s body was only the first step. You had to break her mind if you truly wanted to own her.
And it was in breaking Melissa’s mind that Dee knew she was failing. Melissa didn’t respond to any of her taunts or threats. In fact, she seemed totally unaware that Dee was even making them. Instead, she just kept babbling nonsense. In between her deep howls of laughter, Dee could hear Melissa going on about violating the noise rules, about the dorm director writing them both a citation, or about how the scarves were too tight! And she kept calling her Kim! How could you dominate somebody when they didn‘t know you were in the room?
After a while, sensing her prey was about to pass out Dee stopped tickling. An unconscious prey was no closer to being broken than an untickled one. She let Melissa catch her breath while she tried to figure out what to do next.
“Kimmie, please…<gasp>…please,” Melissa said breathlessly, “Let’s just have sex! I’m…I’m not into this kinky stuff. I…I just want to love you. Please, Kimmie.” Her eyes had a strange, unfocused look to them.
Dee shook her head. If she had more experience, she would have tried to put herself into Melissa’s delusion. She could have claimed to be this Kim, tricked Melissa into spilling the details, and worked from there. Instead, she could only think of ways to break Melissa out of whatever spell she was under.
She pulled a small bottle of clear liquid out from another pocket. She had had this stuff used on her, and the thought of using it on another made her flinch. But Dee was out of ideas. It was the lotion or nothing.
“Look,” Dee said, putting her hand on Melissa’s chin and holding the bottle in front of her eyes, “I didn’t want to do this to you, its almost too cruel, but you leave me no choice. This is another of the Mistress’s creations. it’s an edible personal lubricant, but much more slippery than then stuff you buy in stores. It lasts for hours without drying up, and will make any part of your body even more ticklish than it is already. Even those nipples of yours.”
Dee placed one small blob of goo on her hands then spread it all over Melissa’s nipples and breasts. The oily fingers massaging her boobs sent waves of pleasure coursing through her body. With the maddening tickling that had first caused Melissa‘s powerful flashback gone, that sensation snapped her back into the present.
Suddenly aware of the present, Melissa looked from the statue still holding her arms, to the oil dripping from her breasts to the brush poking out from between Dee‘s cleavage again. What happened next was obvious, yet dreadful. It was like waking up from a nightmare realizing that you were really in a car plunging off a cliff.
“You wouldn’t,” she said simply, hoping somehow she was right.
And Dee just smiled, knowing for the first time that she had Melissa’s undivided attention. The lotion was put away, and the brush back in her hands.
“I only wish, Melissa, you could enjoy this as much as I’m going too.”
Anxious to see the conclusion. 
