nytklee
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Chapter 7: The Final Submission
The bedroom hummed with tension as Alex and Emily lay side by side on the bed, their wrists bound high to the bedposts, ropes biting into their skin with each involuntary twitch. Alex’s chiffon red cocktail dress was crumpled, black sheer stockings glistening with sweat, his nylon feet dangling off the edge, toes curling from the relentless tickling. Emily, in her deep navy business dress, her sheer grey pantyhose stretched tight over her bound legs, mirrored his vulnerability, her black high heels long since discarded. The three men, Dominic, Marcus, and Trent, loomed over them, fingers poised like instruments of torment.
"Time to break you both, Scarlet and... what should we call her?" Dominic mused, his stern gaze shifting between Alex and Emily. "Bank Manager Ticklee, maybe? Let’s start with your soles. Nylon’s so sensitive when it’s stretched like this."
Trent grinned, kneeling by Alex’s feet. "Your turn first, Scarlet. Feel this?" He dragged his fingertips lightly across Alex’s left sole, the sheer material amplifying every skratch. "Nice and slow. Arches first."
"Ahaha! Not there...please, it’s too much!" Alex laughed, his body jerking against the ropes, heavy makeup smearing with tears.
Marcus moved to Emily, his silk-gloved hand gliding over her grey pantyhose-clad sole. "And you, Manager...how’s this feel? Smooth nylon, perfect for tickling. Beg for me."
Emily squirmed, her tough facade cracking. "Mmmph..hahamm! Stop... my soles are too sensitive! Mmmph...no!"
The men rotated, each taking turns with precision. Dominic swapped to Alex, using a feather to tease under his toes. "Look at those reinforced tips curling. Tickle tickle, Scarlet."
"Ahaha! Not the toes!" Alex gasped, laughter turning hoarse.
Trent joined Emily, brushing her arches with a stiff feather. "Your pantyhose make it worse, don’t they? Laugh for us now"
"Please... masters, I submit! Haha.....stop!" Emily pleaded, her voice breaking, but the tickling didn’t cease.
They intensified: Marcus with two fingers skratching Alex’s heels, Dominic buzzing an electric toothbrush on Emily’s soles. "Sign the ticklee contract," Marcus demanded, holding up a paper. "Permanent submission, weekends, your nylon feet ours. Both of you."
Emily, tears mixing with laughter, nodded. "Mmmphaha....gimme the pen! Haha....stop for a second!"
Dominic untied one wrist each, letting them scrawl shaky signatures.
Time to mark our ticklee,” he said, grinning. “A little reminder of who you are.”
Trent held a tattoo gun. "Permanent mark, Scarlet." Alex’s eyes widened, wrists pulling against the cuffs. “No, you can’t! Not permanent!”
Trent pinned his ankle, the stockings rolled down to expose bare skin. “Relax, Scarlet. Just a few words, "Scarlet Overtickle" right here. You’ll love showing it off.”Dominic inked the word carefully, the needle’s sting mingling with Alex’s overstimulation. “There,” he said, wiping it clean. “Our permanent Scarlet.
"Done," Dominic said, retightening the bonds. "Now, to seal it...tickle till you pass out."
The torment escalated: Trent and Marcus on Alex, fingers and brushes attacking both feet simultaneously. "No mercy, Scarlet! Pass out for us!" Trent taunted.
"Ahahaha! Can’t... take it!" Alex cried, his vision blurring, body slumping.
Dominic and Marcus teamed on Emily, feathers and toothbrushes relentless. "Bank Manager, out you go!" Dominic laughed. "Nylon soles can’t save you!"
"Haha....too much! I... mmmph!" Emily’s head lolled, her laughter fading into silence.
Alex followed, darkness claiming him amid giggles: "No more... ahaha..."
When consciousness returned, the room was quiet, the men gone. Alex blinked, his wrists still loosely tied, makeup a mess, stockings damp. Beside him, Emily stirred, her pantyhose torn slightly, dress askew. "Emily... you awake?" he croaked.
"Yeah... ugh, my feet," she groaned, flexing her bound ankles. "Help me with these ropes....your wrist first."
Alex nodded, fumbling to untie her right wrist with his left hand. "There... now yours." She worked his free, then they tackled the ankle knots together, fingers shaky but determined.
Ankles free, they sat up, rubbing sore limbs. "What now?" Alex asked, voice soft. "That contract... we’re stuck, aren’t we?"
Emily sighed, adjusting her pantyhose. "Maybe. I dominated you to hide this fetish. Never thought I’d end up here. But seeing you... it unlocked something. We’re in this together now."
Alex nodded, tracing a tear in his stocking. "I hated your control, but this? Shared submission. They’ll come back—weekends, tickling nonstop. Can we handle it?"
"I don’t know," Emily admitted, her tough tone wavering. "But we untied ourselves. Maybe we can fight back...find a way out. Or... adapt. What do you think?"
Alex met her gaze, a flicker of hope amid the exhaustion. "Together, maybe. Figure out the future...escape or embrace. One step at a time."
They sat in silence, nylon feet touching, a fragile alliance forming against the unknown ahead.
To be continue......
The bedroom hummed with tension as Alex and Emily lay side by side on the bed, their wrists bound high to the bedposts, ropes biting into their skin with each involuntary twitch. Alex’s chiffon red cocktail dress was crumpled, black sheer stockings glistening with sweat, his nylon feet dangling off the edge, toes curling from the relentless tickling. Emily, in her deep navy business dress, her sheer grey pantyhose stretched tight over her bound legs, mirrored his vulnerability, her black high heels long since discarded. The three men, Dominic, Marcus, and Trent, loomed over them, fingers poised like instruments of torment.
"Time to break you both, Scarlet and... what should we call her?" Dominic mused, his stern gaze shifting between Alex and Emily. "Bank Manager Ticklee, maybe? Let’s start with your soles. Nylon’s so sensitive when it’s stretched like this."
Trent grinned, kneeling by Alex’s feet. "Your turn first, Scarlet. Feel this?" He dragged his fingertips lightly across Alex’s left sole, the sheer material amplifying every skratch. "Nice and slow. Arches first."
"Ahaha! Not there...please, it’s too much!" Alex laughed, his body jerking against the ropes, heavy makeup smearing with tears.
Marcus moved to Emily, his silk-gloved hand gliding over her grey pantyhose-clad sole. "And you, Manager...how’s this feel? Smooth nylon, perfect for tickling. Beg for me."
Emily squirmed, her tough facade cracking. "Mmmph..hahamm! Stop... my soles are too sensitive! Mmmph...no!"
The men rotated, each taking turns with precision. Dominic swapped to Alex, using a feather to tease under his toes. "Look at those reinforced tips curling. Tickle tickle, Scarlet."
"Ahaha! Not the toes!" Alex gasped, laughter turning hoarse.
Trent joined Emily, brushing her arches with a stiff feather. "Your pantyhose make it worse, don’t they? Laugh for us now"
"Please... masters, I submit! Haha.....stop!" Emily pleaded, her voice breaking, but the tickling didn’t cease.
They intensified: Marcus with two fingers skratching Alex’s heels, Dominic buzzing an electric toothbrush on Emily’s soles. "Sign the ticklee contract," Marcus demanded, holding up a paper. "Permanent submission, weekends, your nylon feet ours. Both of you."
Emily, tears mixing with laughter, nodded. "Mmmphaha....gimme the pen! Haha....stop for a second!"
Dominic untied one wrist each, letting them scrawl shaky signatures.
Time to mark our ticklee,” he said, grinning. “A little reminder of who you are.”
Trent held a tattoo gun. "Permanent mark, Scarlet." Alex’s eyes widened, wrists pulling against the cuffs. “No, you can’t! Not permanent!”
Trent pinned his ankle, the stockings rolled down to expose bare skin. “Relax, Scarlet. Just a few words, "Scarlet Overtickle" right here. You’ll love showing it off.”Dominic inked the word carefully, the needle’s sting mingling with Alex’s overstimulation. “There,” he said, wiping it clean. “Our permanent Scarlet.
"Done," Dominic said, retightening the bonds. "Now, to seal it...tickle till you pass out."
The torment escalated: Trent and Marcus on Alex, fingers and brushes attacking both feet simultaneously. "No mercy, Scarlet! Pass out for us!" Trent taunted.
"Ahahaha! Can’t... take it!" Alex cried, his vision blurring, body slumping.
Dominic and Marcus teamed on Emily, feathers and toothbrushes relentless. "Bank Manager, out you go!" Dominic laughed. "Nylon soles can’t save you!"
"Haha....too much! I... mmmph!" Emily’s head lolled, her laughter fading into silence.
Alex followed, darkness claiming him amid giggles: "No more... ahaha..."
When consciousness returned, the room was quiet, the men gone. Alex blinked, his wrists still loosely tied, makeup a mess, stockings damp. Beside him, Emily stirred, her pantyhose torn slightly, dress askew. "Emily... you awake?" he croaked.
"Yeah... ugh, my feet," she groaned, flexing her bound ankles. "Help me with these ropes....your wrist first."
Alex nodded, fumbling to untie her right wrist with his left hand. "There... now yours." She worked his free, then they tackled the ankle knots together, fingers shaky but determined.
Ankles free, they sat up, rubbing sore limbs. "What now?" Alex asked, voice soft. "That contract... we’re stuck, aren’t we?"
Emily sighed, adjusting her pantyhose. "Maybe. I dominated you to hide this fetish. Never thought I’d end up here. But seeing you... it unlocked something. We’re in this together now."
Alex nodded, tracing a tear in his stocking. "I hated your control, but this? Shared submission. They’ll come back—weekends, tickling nonstop. Can we handle it?"
"I don’t know," Emily admitted, her tough tone wavering. "But we untied ourselves. Maybe we can fight back...find a way out. Or... adapt. What do you think?"
Alex met her gaze, a flicker of hope amid the exhaustion. "Together, maybe. Figure out the future...escape or embrace. One step at a time."
They sat in silence, nylon feet touching, a fragile alliance forming against the unknown ahead.
To be continue......
