Dave2112
Level of Cherry Feather
- Joined
- Apr 17, 2001
- Messages
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Becca grumbled as she adjusted one of the spaghetti-thin straps that held on the tiny patch of leather that served to cover her most private area. Two months in the news business and this was the only story that was thrown her way so far. Some late-night “catch-their-eye-with-sex” report. Of all the things going on, she should be covering something with a bit more impact. She was trained, she was qualified, she thought. Years of college, internship…the works. But, she knew, the new kid always got thrown the crappy stuff until a proven reporter rose out of the garbage. Plus, she was the only one at the small affiliate suitable for this assignment. There were more qualified field reporters, but none had her…charms. She looked herself over in the mirror of the dressing room and adjusted the last of the elastic straps holding the leather bikini over her supple form. She WAS made for this assingment, she knew. Young, long brown hair, deep brown eyes with long eyelashes, slim body full in all the right places. Breasts that had yet to give in to the inevitable pull of gravity. Yeah, they took one look at this and never suspected a thing.
She was to infiltrate Madame Maxine’s. The place was a notorious Fetish Club, full of well-paying customers on any given weekend and “special occasions.” But the rumors abounded as to how the Madame was using the place as a cover for prostitution. Becca was to pose as one of the hopeful young women looking for easy money for simply being a male fantasy of one type or another. Should be a piece of cake. She breezed through the interview and told them exactly what they wanted to hear. Damn, she was going to show them a thing or two at the station. Just because this was a shitty assignment, didn’t mean she wasn’t going to give it her all. Professionalism, you know.
She had just finished her self-admiration when the Madame appeared. She was a striking woman of perhaps forty…forty-five maybe. Exotic in a way that couldn’t be placed. Oriental? Maybe a little. Indian? Could be that, too. Olive-skinned, dark-haired and with the face and figure of a much younger woman. Madame Maxine was dressed for the evening’s festivities, a leather one-piece number accentuating her ample curves. Thigh-high boots completed the outfit.
“How are you coming along my dear?” the Madame asked Becca.
“Just fine. I can’t wait to get started. Thank you so much for this opportunity. I won’t let you down.”
The older woman looked Becca up and down and with a nod of approval said “I’m sure you won’t my dear.”
After a few minutes of banter, the conversation was interrupted by a large man, one of Maxine’s many male servants. He whispered something in the Madame’s ear and handed her a small black object. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she looked over at the waiting Becca.
“It seems someone has been a bit less than tidy today…”
“Madame?” Becca replied, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
“Antonio apparently has found some of your belongings in the interview room. You were told to bring everything with you in here. I provide a room for you, and I don’t expect my place of business to become my girls’ litter box….”
Playing the submissive part to the best of her ability, Becca lowered her head and her eyes, “I am sorry Madame, it will not happen again.”
“It seems also that something…rather intriguing was found amongst your things,” Maxine produced the object handed to her by Antonio, a videotape. Walking over to the room’s VCR, Maxine asked Becca with a voice dripping with ice, “Shall we see what is on this together?”
Oh Shit!!, thought Becca. I left the intro tape to the story in my bag! What the hell am I gonna do?? Think, girl, think……
Becca was visibly trembling as the Madame hit the play button and Becca’s own face stared back at her from the screen. Unlike her current costume, the pre-recorded image wore a smart suit jacket and held a microphone.
“This is Becca Stills,” the report began, “and tonight on channel 4 news, yours truly will infiltrate the notorious Madame Maxine’s and bring you what no one else has been able to. Inside footage of what some claim to be a house of prostitution among other things. Madame Maxine herself has declined every past request for an interview, so this reporter is going to get it for you herself…Film at Eleven”
“Well, well, well,” the Madame intoned as Antonio and another servant entered the room behind the shaking Becca. “It seems we have a snoop in amongst us, boys.”
She blew it. She knew it. Over. No story. No expose. No career. And maybe even a trespassing charge to compliment her failure. Plus, the woman in front of her didn’t look to happy. Cool and collected maybe, but not happy. To make matters worse, a third man entered the room and whispered again in Maxine’s ear.
“What do you mean, the girl can’t make it?!?! I have a demonstration in a half-hour, and I’ve got no model?” She paused her rant and looked the frightened Becca up and down.
“Becca,” said Maxine as she circled the girl like a lion around a wounded gazelle, “I have to give you credit. You almost pulled this off. You know what, I think I’m going to help you out here. Maybe I’ve been underground too long.” She paused for a moment, looking at the two large men and giving an almost imperceptible nod. “You will get your story. We have a….special demonstration set for this evening, and I’d like you to take part….Yes…you’ll do quite nicely.”
“Really,” Becca exclaimed, “I thought you were going to call the cops or something. Whew! For a minute there I was scared that….MMMMNNNNPPPHHHH!!!!”
Becca’s sentence was cut off by the man behind her, grabbing her in a steel grip and placing a damp rag over her mouth and nose. She managed to kick like a demon.
For about four seconds.
Becca awoke to the muted sound of a woman’s voice. She couldn’t make out the words yet, as sleep had yet to completely relinquish it’s grip on her. As she awoke more and more, however, she became aware of something very disturbing to her. She could not move.
She found that her she was on her knees, her back against a wide pole. Her arms were stretched tight over her head and fastened behind the pole with thick leather cuffs. Her legs past the knees were on a slight incline, on some sort of a padded ramp sloping upward away from the back of the pole. Her now-naked feet dangled over the edge of the support, the tops of her feet flush with its vertical end. A steel ring encircled each large toe and pinned it to the support. Leather straps were above her knees, further pulling her into the pole. A large ball-gag silenced her. Her head could not move and she could feel the strap around her forehead pressing her back. The voice of Madame Maxine was coming in much clearer now, and she realized that it was not her that Maxine was addressing, but a room with ten or twelve people in it. Men. Well-dressed men.
“My honored guests, thank you for coming to Madame Maxine’s Monthly Demonstration Night. I trust you all had an enjoyable trip?” Positive answers came back from the room.
“Tonight’s demonstration is a bit different than those in the past. We’ve covered so many fetishes here, and have helped so many of you express new parts of your sexuality. There have been whippings, piercing, water-sports…we’ve pretty much covered it all. Except one thing. One thing that gets overlooked in so many D/S circles. The art of…Erotic Tickling.”
A murmur circled the room. The men there had paid well for this private demonstration, and it seems that it would be worth it tonite. Something different. Becca, however, would have shaken her head if she could to make sure that she heard right. Tickling?!?! Did she say Tickling???!!?? Her nervousness, already quite high, stepped up a notch. Becca never let anyone touch her in any way that might tickle. She hated it. She feared it. And she was horribly….unbelievably ticklish. Everywhere.
Madame knew exactly what she was doing. The little bitch snoop would pay. And she’d get away with it. If the girl went to the police, Maxine would simply produce Becca’s intro tape and claim cooperation. But after this ordeal, she doubted Becca would care very much for that. And the beauty of it all? No one in the room had an inkling that the bikini-clad girl in bondage right in front of them was an unwilling participant. And they wouldn’t.
“Gentlemen, meet Becca,” Maxine said as she walked up the platform to the bound girl, “She is one of our new additions here. She volunteered for this demonstration, begged almost. With tickling, some like to do it….and some simply love to receive. Becca ia a receiver. A good one. She is very well behaved, and we are ever so proud to have her here. Isn’t she a sight, gentlemen?”
The men eyed the bound girl up and down. Yes she was. Totally immobile and with that body….Damn, were they going to get their money’s worth this evening…
Help Me! Becca tried to say, but all that came out was a muffled sound. The gag was well-placed.
“Tickling can take many forms….all of which I will demonstrate for you this evening…”
Noooooo!!! Becca screamed into her gag. All those men…right there! They could help me! Please won’t somebody figure this out??? Help me please?!?!?!
“Ah, there she goes,” said Maxine, “excited already! She truly loves this…..As I was saying, tickling can take many forms. There is light tickling which torments while sensitizing the body for harder play later. Like this….”
Maxine ran a finger down the hyper-extended arm of the tied-up girl, slowly tracing a line until it rested in the smooth, hairless pit. She wriggled the finger around. Becca pulled at her bonds, but to no avail. Oh my God!!!! She’s going to kill me!!! I can’t take this!!! Why won’t anyone help me????? The thoughts raced through her mind.
Maxine walked around the back of the bondage-pole.
“Well, she seems to enjoy this very much! Shall we give her a little more?” Massive approval from the audience. Maxine reached both her hands around the front and scraped her long fingernails along Becca’s trapped armpits. Wriggling and tickling, she showed no mercy to the bound girl. She tickled up her smooth arms and back down again. “The armpits are a very sensitive area, susceptible to light tickling. But even here, a harder touch can achieve great results. Maxine dug her fingers into the girl’s soft flesh.
“Tickle, tickle, tickle,” Maxine laughed, “Little girl likes that, doesn’t she? What a good girl you are….Kootchie kootchie Kooo…..”
The tickling was driving Becca insane. Squirming against her bonds, all she was managing to do was to convince the men even further that she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Which she was not. Not one bit. It tickled like Hell.
Maxine gave the girl a break and continued her demonstration. “Another common target is the ribcage. Light tickling usually does no good here. What you need to do is massage the ribs, and rub the skin against the bone. Knead the ribs, tickle each one individually. The result should be…..quite pleasing to you both. Right, Becca?”
Becca screamed into her silencing gag. No please, she begged to herself as the evil woman approached her ribcage with clawed hands.
“And here…we…..go!!! Tickletickletickletickle!!!!”
Maxine was going nuts on Beccas ticklish ribcage. Each one delivered it’s own torment directly into her brain. The strap on her forehead must have been strong, because Becca was putting everything she had into it. If she could just shake her head No, someone would figure it out. But tied-up like this, she thought, I’m helpless! Oh God No More!!!!!
The tickling continued for another five minutes until Maxine allowed her poor captive to catch her breath.
“Of course, gentlemen, the obvious target should never be forgotten, and a lighter approach can be taken here.” Maxine picked up two long, soft feathers from the table next to her and walked around the back of the pole. Right above Becca’s upturned soles. Soles that were stretched tight by the toe-rings. Pink, soft, ticklish little soles.
“Feet are probably the most popular target, and I find this quite effective…”
Madame Maxine placed the tip of each feather at the sole of each foot and slowly ran them the length of the helpless feet. Becca was moaning now, unable to even scream. The sensation was pure torture in her bound position.
“Back and forth, back and forth,” explained Maxine as several of the men stepped closer to get a better view of this hot young woman being tickled. “The fingernails are another great implement to use on bound feet….like so.”
Maxine scrabbled her fingernails over the entire surface of Becca’s poor soles. The tickling reached Becca’s brain in a torrent of sensory overload. She was pulling, squirming, wiggling, all for naught. The girl was cunningly tied, and the tickling was intense.
“MMMNNNGGGHHH!!!MMMNNNPPHHHH!!!!!!RRRRRGGGGRRGGGMMMMMNNNN!!” was all that escaped her sweet gagged lips. In between the toes was the worst as Maxine’s sharp fingernails found the tender, sensitive flesh there. Becca went mad.
After a further ten minutes, Maxine once again granted her victim respite. The men sat back down and the exotic woman kneeled before her prey.
“The middle of a woman’s body provides the most bang for the buck as they say. There is a lot of skin, and many very ticklish areas.” She looked up into Becca’s eyes, which were pleading release. The only two in the room who knew Becca’s true predicament stared at each other for a brief moment. Becca’s eyes squeezed shut when Maxine finished the demonstration with the torment of the bound girl’s belly.
“Here,” said Maxine as she fluttered her fingers over the girl’s tight sides, “can be a very ticklish spot.” She continued to tickle every part as she explained to her rapt audience what she was doing. “In the navel here calls for a light stroke. This are over the pubic region is sensitive to a light scratching motion. Even fingernails up the back like this…” Becca moaned in her bondage at the hyper-ticklish sensation of the fingers on her stretched back, “can be pure torture. But gentelmen, in order to bring your slave to her knees, so to speak, is the tickle massage. The muscle under the skin is what is truly ticklish about a woman’s midriff, and a series of squeezing and poking like this can do wonders….”
Maxine went to work. All over Becca’s middle she tickled. She tickled hard, getting her in all the soft spots she could find. Pointed fingers poked into the ticklish flesh with no mercy. She gave her Hell.
“Tickletickletickle…kootchie kootchie koo….see how much she loves this, guys? Tickle tickle Becca!!! Tickle tickle little Becca!!! Squirm for the nice gentlemen, now…that’s a good dear….kitchie kitchie koooo!!!!”
“MMMMMNNNNPPPHHH!!!!!RRRRGGGRRGGMMMM…MMMMM!!!!…MMMMNNNNN!!!!!!!”
The tickling wound down. Becca wouls have slumped in her bondage if she were able. But still the straps held the girl tight and helpless. At least it was over, she thought. Screw the story. No one’s going to believe me, and that bitch has the tape. I don’t care anymore, the tickle-tortured girl thought, I just want to get out of here. But her wait would continue.
“Now gentlemen,” Maxine addressed her very excited audience, “as is the tradition of Madame Maxine’s Demo Night, you will now be able to express what you have learned. I will be attending to other matters, so please feel free to tickle our lovely young participant until I return.”
Becca’s mind reeled. She couldn’t leave her to these men, could she? She eyed the men, now filled with tickle-lust and just dying to get there fingers on her ticklish young flesh.
Maxine walked over to Becca and tied a blindfold around the squirming girl’s head. No need taking the chance that she might make some eye contact that one of these jokers might figure out….
“Guys, have fun, and don’t worry about little Becca here. This is pure enjoyment for her, her reward for a week’s worth of good service. One thing though, I must request that you do not remove her gag. She tells me that it heightens the pleasurable experience, and we would most definitely not want to ruin her one night of fun, now would we? Tickle well, gentlemen…I’ll return after my next appointment…and my tea….and my nap…..”
Her voice faded away as Becca trembled in fear. She couldn’t see them, but she knew they were coming. When the first touch registered, she pulled frantically. After five minutes, she was a wreck. After a half hour, she was begging God to simply die. After the first hour, she lost all track of time.
Maxine filled her evening with her usual ritual, taking her time for once and enjoying herself. She kicked up her feet and turned on the TV. The news came on.
Hmmmm, she mused, wonder if anybody got themselves a good story tonite?
She was to infiltrate Madame Maxine’s. The place was a notorious Fetish Club, full of well-paying customers on any given weekend and “special occasions.” But the rumors abounded as to how the Madame was using the place as a cover for prostitution. Becca was to pose as one of the hopeful young women looking for easy money for simply being a male fantasy of one type or another. Should be a piece of cake. She breezed through the interview and told them exactly what they wanted to hear. Damn, she was going to show them a thing or two at the station. Just because this was a shitty assignment, didn’t mean she wasn’t going to give it her all. Professionalism, you know.
She had just finished her self-admiration when the Madame appeared. She was a striking woman of perhaps forty…forty-five maybe. Exotic in a way that couldn’t be placed. Oriental? Maybe a little. Indian? Could be that, too. Olive-skinned, dark-haired and with the face and figure of a much younger woman. Madame Maxine was dressed for the evening’s festivities, a leather one-piece number accentuating her ample curves. Thigh-high boots completed the outfit.
“How are you coming along my dear?” the Madame asked Becca.
“Just fine. I can’t wait to get started. Thank you so much for this opportunity. I won’t let you down.”
The older woman looked Becca up and down and with a nod of approval said “I’m sure you won’t my dear.”
After a few minutes of banter, the conversation was interrupted by a large man, one of Maxine’s many male servants. He whispered something in the Madame’s ear and handed her a small black object. Her eyes narrowed to slits as she looked over at the waiting Becca.
“It seems someone has been a bit less than tidy today…”
“Madame?” Becca replied, a hint of nervousness in her voice.
“Antonio apparently has found some of your belongings in the interview room. You were told to bring everything with you in here. I provide a room for you, and I don’t expect my place of business to become my girls’ litter box….”
Playing the submissive part to the best of her ability, Becca lowered her head and her eyes, “I am sorry Madame, it will not happen again.”
“It seems also that something…rather intriguing was found amongst your things,” Maxine produced the object handed to her by Antonio, a videotape. Walking over to the room’s VCR, Maxine asked Becca with a voice dripping with ice, “Shall we see what is on this together?”
Oh Shit!!, thought Becca. I left the intro tape to the story in my bag! What the hell am I gonna do?? Think, girl, think……
Becca was visibly trembling as the Madame hit the play button and Becca’s own face stared back at her from the screen. Unlike her current costume, the pre-recorded image wore a smart suit jacket and held a microphone.
“This is Becca Stills,” the report began, “and tonight on channel 4 news, yours truly will infiltrate the notorious Madame Maxine’s and bring you what no one else has been able to. Inside footage of what some claim to be a house of prostitution among other things. Madame Maxine herself has declined every past request for an interview, so this reporter is going to get it for you herself…Film at Eleven”
“Well, well, well,” the Madame intoned as Antonio and another servant entered the room behind the shaking Becca. “It seems we have a snoop in amongst us, boys.”
She blew it. She knew it. Over. No story. No expose. No career. And maybe even a trespassing charge to compliment her failure. Plus, the woman in front of her didn’t look to happy. Cool and collected maybe, but not happy. To make matters worse, a third man entered the room and whispered again in Maxine’s ear.
“What do you mean, the girl can’t make it?!?! I have a demonstration in a half-hour, and I’ve got no model?” She paused her rant and looked the frightened Becca up and down.
“Becca,” said Maxine as she circled the girl like a lion around a wounded gazelle, “I have to give you credit. You almost pulled this off. You know what, I think I’m going to help you out here. Maybe I’ve been underground too long.” She paused for a moment, looking at the two large men and giving an almost imperceptible nod. “You will get your story. We have a….special demonstration set for this evening, and I’d like you to take part….Yes…you’ll do quite nicely.”
“Really,” Becca exclaimed, “I thought you were going to call the cops or something. Whew! For a minute there I was scared that….MMMMNNNNPPPHHHH!!!!”
Becca’s sentence was cut off by the man behind her, grabbing her in a steel grip and placing a damp rag over her mouth and nose. She managed to kick like a demon.
For about four seconds.
Becca awoke to the muted sound of a woman’s voice. She couldn’t make out the words yet, as sleep had yet to completely relinquish it’s grip on her. As she awoke more and more, however, she became aware of something very disturbing to her. She could not move.
She found that her she was on her knees, her back against a wide pole. Her arms were stretched tight over her head and fastened behind the pole with thick leather cuffs. Her legs past the knees were on a slight incline, on some sort of a padded ramp sloping upward away from the back of the pole. Her now-naked feet dangled over the edge of the support, the tops of her feet flush with its vertical end. A steel ring encircled each large toe and pinned it to the support. Leather straps were above her knees, further pulling her into the pole. A large ball-gag silenced her. Her head could not move and she could feel the strap around her forehead pressing her back. The voice of Madame Maxine was coming in much clearer now, and she realized that it was not her that Maxine was addressing, but a room with ten or twelve people in it. Men. Well-dressed men.
“My honored guests, thank you for coming to Madame Maxine’s Monthly Demonstration Night. I trust you all had an enjoyable trip?” Positive answers came back from the room.
“Tonight’s demonstration is a bit different than those in the past. We’ve covered so many fetishes here, and have helped so many of you express new parts of your sexuality. There have been whippings, piercing, water-sports…we’ve pretty much covered it all. Except one thing. One thing that gets overlooked in so many D/S circles. The art of…Erotic Tickling.”
A murmur circled the room. The men there had paid well for this private demonstration, and it seems that it would be worth it tonite. Something different. Becca, however, would have shaken her head if she could to make sure that she heard right. Tickling?!?! Did she say Tickling???!!?? Her nervousness, already quite high, stepped up a notch. Becca never let anyone touch her in any way that might tickle. She hated it. She feared it. And she was horribly….unbelievably ticklish. Everywhere.
Madame knew exactly what she was doing. The little bitch snoop would pay. And she’d get away with it. If the girl went to the police, Maxine would simply produce Becca’s intro tape and claim cooperation. But after this ordeal, she doubted Becca would care very much for that. And the beauty of it all? No one in the room had an inkling that the bikini-clad girl in bondage right in front of them was an unwilling participant. And they wouldn’t.
“Gentlemen, meet Becca,” Maxine said as she walked up the platform to the bound girl, “She is one of our new additions here. She volunteered for this demonstration, begged almost. With tickling, some like to do it….and some simply love to receive. Becca ia a receiver. A good one. She is very well behaved, and we are ever so proud to have her here. Isn’t she a sight, gentlemen?”
The men eyed the bound girl up and down. Yes she was. Totally immobile and with that body….Damn, were they going to get their money’s worth this evening…
Help Me! Becca tried to say, but all that came out was a muffled sound. The gag was well-placed.
“Tickling can take many forms….all of which I will demonstrate for you this evening…”
Noooooo!!! Becca screamed into her gag. All those men…right there! They could help me! Please won’t somebody figure this out??? Help me please?!?!?!
“Ah, there she goes,” said Maxine, “excited already! She truly loves this…..As I was saying, tickling can take many forms. There is light tickling which torments while sensitizing the body for harder play later. Like this….”
Maxine ran a finger down the hyper-extended arm of the tied-up girl, slowly tracing a line until it rested in the smooth, hairless pit. She wriggled the finger around. Becca pulled at her bonds, but to no avail. Oh my God!!!! She’s going to kill me!!! I can’t take this!!! Why won’t anyone help me????? The thoughts raced through her mind.
Maxine walked around the back of the bondage-pole.
“Well, she seems to enjoy this very much! Shall we give her a little more?” Massive approval from the audience. Maxine reached both her hands around the front and scraped her long fingernails along Becca’s trapped armpits. Wriggling and tickling, she showed no mercy to the bound girl. She tickled up her smooth arms and back down again. “The armpits are a very sensitive area, susceptible to light tickling. But even here, a harder touch can achieve great results. Maxine dug her fingers into the girl’s soft flesh.
“Tickle, tickle, tickle,” Maxine laughed, “Little girl likes that, doesn’t she? What a good girl you are….Kootchie kootchie Kooo…..”
The tickling was driving Becca insane. Squirming against her bonds, all she was managing to do was to convince the men even further that she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Which she was not. Not one bit. It tickled like Hell.
Maxine gave the girl a break and continued her demonstration. “Another common target is the ribcage. Light tickling usually does no good here. What you need to do is massage the ribs, and rub the skin against the bone. Knead the ribs, tickle each one individually. The result should be…..quite pleasing to you both. Right, Becca?”
Becca screamed into her silencing gag. No please, she begged to herself as the evil woman approached her ribcage with clawed hands.
“And here…we…..go!!! Tickletickletickletickle!!!!”
Maxine was going nuts on Beccas ticklish ribcage. Each one delivered it’s own torment directly into her brain. The strap on her forehead must have been strong, because Becca was putting everything she had into it. If she could just shake her head No, someone would figure it out. But tied-up like this, she thought, I’m helpless! Oh God No More!!!!!
The tickling continued for another five minutes until Maxine allowed her poor captive to catch her breath.
“Of course, gentlemen, the obvious target should never be forgotten, and a lighter approach can be taken here.” Maxine picked up two long, soft feathers from the table next to her and walked around the back of the pole. Right above Becca’s upturned soles. Soles that were stretched tight by the toe-rings. Pink, soft, ticklish little soles.
“Feet are probably the most popular target, and I find this quite effective…”
Madame Maxine placed the tip of each feather at the sole of each foot and slowly ran them the length of the helpless feet. Becca was moaning now, unable to even scream. The sensation was pure torture in her bound position.
“Back and forth, back and forth,” explained Maxine as several of the men stepped closer to get a better view of this hot young woman being tickled. “The fingernails are another great implement to use on bound feet….like so.”
Maxine scrabbled her fingernails over the entire surface of Becca’s poor soles. The tickling reached Becca’s brain in a torrent of sensory overload. She was pulling, squirming, wiggling, all for naught. The girl was cunningly tied, and the tickling was intense.
“MMMNNNGGGHHH!!!MMMNNNPPHHHH!!!!!!RRRRRGGGGRRGGGMMMMMNNNN!!” was all that escaped her sweet gagged lips. In between the toes was the worst as Maxine’s sharp fingernails found the tender, sensitive flesh there. Becca went mad.
After a further ten minutes, Maxine once again granted her victim respite. The men sat back down and the exotic woman kneeled before her prey.
“The middle of a woman’s body provides the most bang for the buck as they say. There is a lot of skin, and many very ticklish areas.” She looked up into Becca’s eyes, which were pleading release. The only two in the room who knew Becca’s true predicament stared at each other for a brief moment. Becca’s eyes squeezed shut when Maxine finished the demonstration with the torment of the bound girl’s belly.
“Here,” said Maxine as she fluttered her fingers over the girl’s tight sides, “can be a very ticklish spot.” She continued to tickle every part as she explained to her rapt audience what she was doing. “In the navel here calls for a light stroke. This are over the pubic region is sensitive to a light scratching motion. Even fingernails up the back like this…” Becca moaned in her bondage at the hyper-ticklish sensation of the fingers on her stretched back, “can be pure torture. But gentelmen, in order to bring your slave to her knees, so to speak, is the tickle massage. The muscle under the skin is what is truly ticklish about a woman’s midriff, and a series of squeezing and poking like this can do wonders….”
Maxine went to work. All over Becca’s middle she tickled. She tickled hard, getting her in all the soft spots she could find. Pointed fingers poked into the ticklish flesh with no mercy. She gave her Hell.
“Tickletickletickle…kootchie kootchie koo….see how much she loves this, guys? Tickle tickle Becca!!! Tickle tickle little Becca!!! Squirm for the nice gentlemen, now…that’s a good dear….kitchie kitchie koooo!!!!”
“MMMMMNNNNPPPHHH!!!!!RRRRGGGRRGGMMMM…MMMMM!!!!…MMMMNNNNN!!!!!!!”
The tickling wound down. Becca wouls have slumped in her bondage if she were able. But still the straps held the girl tight and helpless. At least it was over, she thought. Screw the story. No one’s going to believe me, and that bitch has the tape. I don’t care anymore, the tickle-tortured girl thought, I just want to get out of here. But her wait would continue.
“Now gentlemen,” Maxine addressed her very excited audience, “as is the tradition of Madame Maxine’s Demo Night, you will now be able to express what you have learned. I will be attending to other matters, so please feel free to tickle our lovely young participant until I return.”
Becca’s mind reeled. She couldn’t leave her to these men, could she? She eyed the men, now filled with tickle-lust and just dying to get there fingers on her ticklish young flesh.
Maxine walked over to Becca and tied a blindfold around the squirming girl’s head. No need taking the chance that she might make some eye contact that one of these jokers might figure out….
“Guys, have fun, and don’t worry about little Becca here. This is pure enjoyment for her, her reward for a week’s worth of good service. One thing though, I must request that you do not remove her gag. She tells me that it heightens the pleasurable experience, and we would most definitely not want to ruin her one night of fun, now would we? Tickle well, gentlemen…I’ll return after my next appointment…and my tea….and my nap…..”
Her voice faded away as Becca trembled in fear. She couldn’t see them, but she knew they were coming. When the first touch registered, she pulled frantically. After five minutes, she was a wreck. After a half hour, she was begging God to simply die. After the first hour, she lost all track of time.
Maxine filled her evening with her usual ritual, taking her time for once and enjoying herself. She kicked up her feet and turned on the TV. The news came on.
Hmmmm, she mused, wonder if anybody got themselves a good story tonite?
