High school was twenty years in the past—but svelte Monique still bore pretty Sandy a grudge. Now it's time for payback!
THE BACK BEDROOM
by
T.T. Gore
Part One
THE BACK BEDROOM
by
T.T. Gore
Part One
"Sandy, it's so GOOD to see you again after all these years."
There was a terrible gloating satisfaction in the tone of Monique's voice, and Sandra felt dreadfully certain that something very, very bad was about to happen. But what? Just what the hell was going ON—?!
She remembered bumping into Monique in the hotel lobby…remembered chatting with her during the reunion dinner…remembered meeting her later that evening for a drink in the bar…but what had happened then?
There was a blank place in Sandra’s mind. All she knew was that she'd opened her eyes a minute ago and found herself, here…with Monique. And she wouldn't be leaving any time soon.
That was all too obvious.
She was stark naked, for one thing, and her clothes were nowhere in sight. Worse still, she was laying face-up on a bed, arms above her head, wrists tied together, legs spread, both wrists and ankles secured to the brass rails at the head and foot of the bed. There was a pillow under her head, but that was the only concession to comfort. The ropes were pulled tight, tensing her body slightly and preventing all but the slightest movements. Sandra's flesh crawled as she realized how helpless and exposed she was.
As for Monique, she was standing by the side of the bed, dressed in nothing but scrimpy black panties. She'd changed quite a bit since high school and now, at the age of thirty-seven, was a very striking woman indeed. You couldn't call Monique beautiful—her face was too severe, with strong dark brows and a hawkish profile—but she was certainly handsome. Twenty years ago she'd been a tall, awkward girl, all knees and elbows; now she was lithe and slender, with a bodily poise that spoke of good muscle tone. Her dark brown hair was cropped short. Her chocolate-colored eyes held a glint of amusement. Sandra noticed that Monique's dark red-painted fingernails were long and sharply pointed. For some reason she couldn't quite fathom, that detail was disturbing.
"I suppose you're wondering why I brought you here, Sandy." Monique's lips twisted up in an evil grin. "We'll discuss that later, perhaps, but first let me ask YOU a question."
"What?" Sandra's voice quavered. "Monique, what IS this?!"
"All in good time, darling." Monique patted Sandra's thigh. "What I wanted to ask was: How well do you remember our high school days?"
"Pretty well, I guess," Sandra answered in a puzzled voice. "As well as anyone, I guess. But what—MMMMPH!"
"Hush, now." Monique had placed a hand over her mouth. She gazed into Sandra's frightened eyes. "Be quiet or I'll have to give you a PUNISHMENT, darling. We're quite alone here and no one will hear you if you scream. Understand?"
Sandra nodded. Monique took her hand away. "So you remember those days, do you? Perhaps not as well as you think—or you wouldn't be wondering why I've brought you here."
Sandra bit her lip and said nothing.
Monique moved to the foot of the bed. "Now my next question, Sandy, has rather a direct bearing on your current situation. It is just this: Are you TICKLISH, darling?"
Before Sandra could answer, something hard and sharp brushed up the sole of her right foot, from heel to toes. An indescribable sensation shot up her shapely leg. "EEEEEEEE!!!" she squealed, wiggling in her bonds.
"I believe you've answered my question, Sandy." Monique chuckled. "Now the only remaining question is: Just HOW ticklish are you? Shall we find out?”
She began raking her fingernail up and down the sole of her captive’s foot, not rapidly but steadily. Sandra wiggled harder.
"NO—STOP—EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" she squealed. "OH NOT MY FEEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEEEET!!! EEEEEEYAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!! IT TICK-HICK-EEEEEE-HICK-EEEEEE-HIIIIEEEE-HICK-HICKLES!!!”
"Really?" Monique stroked faster. "Does it tickle just a LITTLE, darling? Or does it tickle a LOT?”
"AAAAH-HAA!!! AAAAH-HAA-HAA!!! AAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!" Sandra bellowed. She tried in vain to jerk her foot away from Monique's dancing fingernail. "OH-HO-HO-OH-NO-OH-HO-HO-OH-HO-HO-HO!!!"
"Oooo, it DOES tickle a lot, doesn't it?" Monique cupped Sandra's heel in one hand and stroked the top of the foot with all four fingers of the other hand. "It just tickles you to BITS, darling, isn't that so?"
"EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Sandra howled. Her frantic struggles shook the bed. "BWAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!"
"My, my—your little toes are squirming all OVER the place, Sandy." Monique gave the tortured foot a final tickle and let if fall. "Why don't you rest for a moment while I fix that?"
Sandra would have begged for mercy at that point, if she hadn't been too busy gasping for breath. Her foot and leg still tingled with ticklish sensations. She could feel cold sweat on her face, breasts, and belly. The thought of more tickling sent a potent thrill of fear through her guts.
"This should do the trick," Monique said, displaying a length of twine. She looped it around Sandra's right big toe and tied the free end to the brass bed rail. The effect was to tense and immobilize the foot. "Now just let me do your left foot, darling, and we'll be all set."
"Omygod please NO!” Sandra moaned. "No more, Monique! I'm BEGGING you—!"
"But Sandy, that was just a TASTE of things to come!" Monique smiled coldly. "We have hours and HOURS of fun and games ahead of us!"
"I'll SCREAM!" Sandra insisted. "I'll scream until someone COMES!"
"Scream away, darling." Monique chuckled. "There's no one to hear you. I made sure to rent a nice, secluded house. No neighbors, an old-fashioned brass bed in the upstairs back bedroom—the moment I saw this place I knew it was perfect."
"But WHY?!” Sandra sobbed. "Why are you DOING this?"
"Because I remember, Sandra." Monique’s voice had sunk to a whisper. "I remember when you and I were seventeen..."
"I don't UNDERSTAND!”
"You will, darling." Monique took Sandra's left baby toe between thumb and forefinger, and wiggled it. "You know, it's interesting," she added in a lighter tone. "It's been twenty years and you've hardly changed at all. Still the cutie-pie blonde with the hot cheerleader bod, aren't you, Sandy?"
"I…I do aerobics," Sandra stammered. "And I play tennis."
"Yes, you would." Monique wiggled the toe again. "But I've changed quite a bit since graduation, don't you think?"
"Yes." Sandra agreed immediately. Keep the bitch talking, she thought desperately. Anything—ANYTHING—to postpone the tickling!
But Monique must have been a mind reader.
"We'll continue our conversation during your next break, darling," she said. "But now, I'm afraid, it's time to proceed with your lesson."
"No!" Sandra wailed. "Not again! Don't tickle me AGAIN—!”
Monique didn't bother to respond to Sandra's plea. She simply smiled. Then she went to work with her sharp nails on BOTH feet!
"EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Sandra shrieked. "AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!"
"So are we having FUN yet?" Monique inquired.
"EEEEYAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-YAA-HAA-HAA!!!" Sandra howled. "HIIIIEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!"
It was worse than before—MUCH worse, Sandra realized as she thrashed in her bonds, screaming with hysterical laughter. The horrid, unbearable sensations produced by Monique's dancing fingers were shooting up her legs, plucking at every nerve in her body, and there was no way in the world to make it STOP—! Gooseflesh roughened her skin. Tears streamed from her eyes. Her breasts tingled and her nipples extended themselves. “HAAAAR-UUUUGH!!! HAAAAR-UUUUGH!!! GAAAAR-HAR-HAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-HAR-AAAAR-HAR-HAAAARUUUUGH!!!” she screamed.
"Let's try right here," Monique suggested, drawing her nails along the side of the feet.
"YAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA!!!" Sandra screamed, fighting hard for air. "OH-HO-GRRRRUUUUGH!!! OH-NO-GRRRRUUUUGH!!! OH-HO-HO-OH-GRRRRUUUUGH-UUUUGH-UUUUGH!!!"
"And here." Monique's nails raked stroked the balls of the feet.
"HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!” Sandra howled. "EEEEYAAAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!”
"And let's not forget your oh-so-sensitive ARCHES Monique added.
"HAAAAR-UUUUGH!!! HAAAAR-UGH-UGH-UUUUUGH!!!" Sandy grunted. She could no longer suck in enough air to produce a full-throated shriek.
"Goodness, Sandy, your face has turned the most startling shade of PINK," Monique observed with a smirk. "Perhaps I'd better stop for a moment."
Mercifully, she did. As she gasped for breath, Sandra wept with servile relief.
"I must be careful not to wear you out, darling. "Monique had moved to the side of the bed and was looking down with a smile. "The drug I used seems to have increased your sensitivity to tickling even more than I thought it would."
"Wha...?" Sandra wheezed. "D-d-d-drug...?"
"Yes." Monique reached down and tweaked Sandra's nose. "Didn't I mention that I work for a pharmaceutical company? That's right, darling, I'm a research chemist." She laughed. "It was the drug that inspired me to arrange our little tryst.”
Sandra lay there, panting. She lacked the energy to do anything more.
"A MOST interesting compound," Monique continued in the tone of a university lecturer. “One tiny dose will render any human being totally defenseless against suggestion. So I slipped some into your drink, Sandy. About thirty seconds after you ingested it, I simply ordered you to come with me. And you did. When we got here, I ordered you to undress and lie down on this bed. And you did. I ordered you to lie still while I tied you. And you did. Then it was simply a matter of waiting until the drug wore off."
"Monique…please…"
But the svelte tormentress ignored Sandra's faint plea and went on with her lecture.
"You came around with no memory of anything from the time you ingested the drug to the time it wore off, yes? That's another interesting effect of this compound—it wipes the mind of everything that has happened during the drugged interlude." Monique chuckled. "And finally, as I mentioned, it increases bodily sensitivity for a period that varies with the age, weight and sex of the subject. In your case, this increased sensitivity should last up to twelve hours."
Sandra's eyes widened with terror. "Omygod!" she sobbed. "Omygod I won't be able to STAND it! You'll KILL me—!"
"Don't worry, darling." Monique patted Sandra's cheek. "I'll be careful!"
And with that, she climbed onto the bed and knelt between Sandra's wide-open legs. Sandra cringed in her bonds in anticipation of another bout of tickling. But Monique seemed in no hurry. She looked down at her helpless victim with a dreamy expression.
"You know, Sandy," she whispered, "I hate to admit this, considering that you treated me like absolute SHIT in high school, you bitch, but I DO find you...well...rather attractive…"
"What? What do you MEAN—?!”
"Oh, didn't I mention that I prefer girls?" Monique giggled. "Well, it's true! And I'm thinking...now that I have you here...hmmmm, yes, that might be fun…”
"But I'm not that way! I'm NOT!”
“Oh, I bet you say that to ALL the girls!” Monique smiled and shook her head. “For the moment, however, let's just try THIS!”
And with no more ado, Monique leaned forward and darted her fingers into Sandra's tender, defenseless armpits!
"HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" Sandra shrieked. "EEEEEEYAEEAAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA!!!" Her arms jerked spasmodically as Monique's fingernails probed and stroked. If anything, this was WORSE than having her feet tickled! And even if her body could hold up under such torture, Sandra realized, her mind might not. She felt horribly certain that the nonstop laughter was driving her to the brink of total fucking HYSTERIA—!
"HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HIIIIEEEE-HEE-HEE-EEEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEE!!!" she howled. "YAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA-AAAAH-HAA-HAA!!!"
Monique's hands slipped down from Sandra's armpits to her upper sides. Her fingernails dug in and wiggled.
"BWAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA-AAH-HAA-HAA-HAA!!!" Sandra screeched. Her body convulsed under this new assault. Her laughter-crimsoned face was twisted into a grimace of anguished hilarity—the fine blonde hairs on her arms stood up and quivered—her skin broke out in a delicate cold sweat—her breasts swayed fetchingly as she writhed in her bonds.
Monique continued to tickle, moving her hands down Sandra's ribcage, until her victim's laughter died away to a gasping wheeze. When she finally stopped, Sandra kept wheezing.
"Heeeeeeee…heeeeeeee…heeeeeeee…" Sandy gasped. She could still FEEL those horrible, torturing fingernails! "Heeeeee…eeeeee…heeeeee. .…”
"Now, now, darling." Monique brushed Sandra's sweat-soaked hair from her forehead. "It's okay. You're doing just fine!"
"Heee…heee…heee…” Sandy wheezed.
"Poor dear," Monique cooed. "Poor Sandy-candy." She leaned forward to kiss the tip of Sandra's nose. "I've been SO mean to you, haven't I?"
"No…more…” Sandra managed to croak.
"Would you like me to be NICE to you, Sandy-candy?"
Scarcely aware of what was happening, Sandra croaked, "Yes…"
Monique smiled lazily and put a hand on Sandra's breast. She used her palm to caress the erect nipple. "Mmmm," she muttered. "Are you getting EXCITED, darling? Are your insides starting to feel all WARM and SLIPPERY?”
Both of Monique's hands were on Sandra's breasts now. She arched her back in response. It DID feel nice…VERY nice…
"Want me to kiss?" Monique whispered.
"Yes!" Sandra whispered back.
Monique leaned down. Her tongue darted out to tease Sandra's right nipple.
"Oooooooo!" Sandra moaned deliciously. "Aaaaaaaah!"
"Didn't I tell you?" Monique said, raising her head for a moment. "You DO like this, don't you?"
"Oh, God, YES—!”
"Want me to stop?"
"Oh, no, PLEASE—!”
Sandra just couldn't help herself! Despite all that this bitch had put her through, she wanted Monique to KEEP kissing—and touching—and stroking her belly—and oh, YES, putting her hand down THERE—!
"Want me to DO it Sandy-candy?" Monique was running a finger up and down Sandra's damp slit. "Want me to make you CUM?”
Sandra answered with a grunt and a wiggle of her hips.
"Okay, if you insist!"
Monique located Sandy's swollen button. She began to stroke.
The muscles in Sandra's legs tensed. Her asshole tightened. Her svelte belly rippled.
"Getting close?" Monique inquired softly.
"Aaaaaah!" Sandra moaned. "Oh yessssss—!”
"REAL close?” Monique stroked a little faster. "Tell me when you're really, REALLY close to cumming, Sandy-candy!"
"Oh SHIT—don't STOP—I want to fucking CUM!” Sandra gasped, thrashing in her bonds. "Oh YES—oh PLEASE—go FAST—I'm going to CUM—!”
"No, you're not," said Monique. She stopped stroking.
"Don't STOP! Sandra wailed, thrusting her hips to maintain contact with Monique's retreating finger. "Oh, don’t stop NOW! I want to CUM—!”
"Perhaps later," Monique said. She raised an eyebrow. "But first, Sandy dear, we really should proceed with your punishment. Business before pleasure, yes?"
"Oh GOD! Please NO!" Sandra cried. She was trembling with fear and sexual frustration. "Not again!"
Monique got off the bed. "Let's see if those pretty feet of yours are still ticklish, darling. Sexual arousal is supposed to increase the level of bodily sensitivity, you know. Isn't that interesting?"
Sandra began to weep.
"No crying, now, Sandy. I like to be surrounded by happy, smiling faces." Monique raised her hands and flexed her fingers. "In fact, I INSIST!”
So the joke was on Sandra! But she laughed anyway, at the top of her lungs, with scarcely a pause to breathe, far, far into the night…
Last edited:
