Another early go at fiction for me. Let me know what you think.
All the best,
Professor Tkl
The following events are purely fictional. Any correspondence with real or otherwise described persons or events is purely coincidental and unintentional.
“Alternate Arrangement”
Alyssa was beginning to panic. She was down to her last few chips and had enough to play one last hand. She regretted not walking away when she was five hundred dollars up but she thought she could “ride the wave” and come out with enough to pay her rent for at least last month.
Dealer ,“Queen”.
Then her cards came: she an eight and a deuce, then came a king. She stayed and sighed at her good fortune – twenty was a solid hand.
Dealer “Ace, twenty one.”
Away went her chips. This was money she needed to win and then some. Her landlord was already threatening eviction and she was three months behind on her rent. She had inquired with several banks for personal loans but with her credit in its current state she was declined at each, even at the institutions noted for higher interest rates for those with bad credit. Her plastic had been maxed out for a year so a cash advance there was not a possibility. She needed a place to live and had nowhere to go having been evicted twice before in the last year.
Mrs. Ruckerson was a no-nonsense businesswoman and a rather wealthy property owner. She gave Alyssa a lease on her word that her past credit history did not reflect her current intentions and her promise to pay the rent regularly and on time. Alyssa dreaded having to face her on this but knew she must. Waitressing in a small café and bartending three nights a week was not enough to pay the bills and support a gambling habit acquired in the last nine months since her twenty-first birthday. As she ran her fingers through her long, dishwater blonde locks she sighed and realized the one thing she must do in the morning with Mrs. Ruckerson - plead for more time, begging if necessary.
Alyssa awaited her fate sitting on a small couch beside an office door. Her small but curvy five foot tall frame fit comfortably enough in the plush furniture.
“Alyssa? Please come in,” smiled Mrs. Ruckerson.
Nervously Alyssa stood and entered the office taking a seat in front of a large oak desk. Alyssa pleaded for more time to pay her back rent as the middle-aged woman’s smile turned to a frown.
“I’m sorry, but you know very well the terms of your lease. You’ll have to be out by the end of the weekend.”
Tears welled up in Alyssa’s eyes and she swallowed her pride and begged. She begged and pleaded stating she would do anything for some more time.
“Anything?”
“Yes, anything,” she sobbed. The tone of the woman’s response made Alyssa nervous but she felt as if she had no choice.
“Well, more time to pay is not possible but I do have another business venture in which I require some more help and you could perhaps earn a month’s rent over the course of the weekend. I will tell you that it is exhausting work. It will require your entire weekend however – you will be accommodated to stay at one of my other properties. The hours are long and the work is intense and I would require some preparation on your part as well as your assurance of absolute discretion. If you can handle that, we can talk.”
An overjoyed Alyssa was handed a sealed manila envelope.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Ruckerson! You won’t regret it!”
“Please, call me Ruth. Now you are to follow the instructions inside the envelope to the letter. You will need to arrive at the property no later that six Friday evening. Do not be late or this one time offer will no longer be available.”
Once back in her apartment Alyssa carefully opened the envelope and read her instructions. The property was almost an hour drive away in the remote countryside.
She arrived at a stately mansion in the hilly countryside. Walking up to the door, overnight bag in hand, she was greeted by a smiling Ruth Ruckerson.
“Thank you so much again, Ruth! You have no idea how much it means to me with you giving me a chance to earn my rent and stay in my apartment!
So do you need this place cleaned? It looks huge but I know I can do it!”
“No, my dear. I already have a cleaning staff. Please come this way.”
Alyssa was shown to the large luxurious suite that was to be her room for the weekend. It contained a king size four poster bed with a canopy a plush seating area and a huge bathroom complete with jacuzzi tub and a large vanity.
“Now, my dear, I must ask that you shower and don the robe and slippers provided for you in the bathroom. When you are done, please use the cosmetics appliances provided to apply your best makeup and fix your hair up. Then you will be given further directions.”
Doing as was asked, the robed Alyssa emerged from the bathroom to see her hostess awaiting her.
“I’m sorry, Ruth you startled me!”
“It’s okay. Please come with me.”
“Well, I need to get dressed, all I have on is this robe and the slippers”
“No need, please come.”
Ruth led her to an elevator aside the door of which was a lock in to which she inserted a key from her pocket. The elevator door opened, the two entered and upon closing descended several floors.
“So, Ruth, what exactly will I be doing?”
“Well, let’s say it’s a barrel of laughs”
With the door opening a long, dark, torch lit corridor faced them. Down the corridor they walked coming to a three way intersection. Alyssa heard something from the corridor to the right of her.
“What is that noise?”
“Why not,” Ruth quipped, “let’s go see for ourselves, shall we?”
As they walked toward the sound it became more and more distinct. It was laughter. Female laughter. It actually sounded more like uncontrolled cackling. As they approached a thick, closed wooden door they could hear pleas for something to stop, pleas amidst the laughing woman’s repeated guffaws. Butterflies in Alyssa’s stomach were flittering about.
Ruth inserted yet another key into the door and opened it. What Alyssa saw inside nearly made her faint. A young African-American woman, no more than nineteen was strapped on her back to a rack. She was completely naked. A stately appearing woman in her early sixties stood over her with her long matronly nails dancing over the helpless girl’s tummy causing her to squeal and squirm laughing uncontrollably but unable to break her bonds. The tickler had a broad grin upon her face as well, obviously enjoying her task. The tormented woman pleaded with her tickler repeatedly for mercy but with no avail.
“Please! No more tummy, pleheeheeheeeheeheeeeeease! HAhahahahah! I’m beggin’ you! Stahaaahahahaaaap! Ahhhhahahahahaaaa!”
“What’s the matter? Ticklish little tummy we have have don’t we? Kootchy, kootchy, kootchy! Koootchy, kootchy, kootchy!”
The words of the tickler seemed to make the pitch of the tickled girl’s laughter escalate even further as if these torments alone could make her even more ticklish.
Closing the door, Ruth explained “My clients are wealthy women who take pleasure in tickling to extreme lengths younger, attractive ladies. They are willing to pay handsomely for the fulfillment of that pleasure. This weekend you will be rented out, by me, as a tickle slave. You will have a new mistress each day who may tickle you however and to whatever extent she wishes. Fulfill your weekend and your debt with me will be cleared. Not only that, you will have no rent to pay for the next thirty days.
“Anyway, your first mistress will be anxious to get started as she only has until midnight being she gets to be the first to tickle you. Let’s go, sweetie and remember that you are being hired to be tickled so much as your mistress wishes; so be a good girl and it will be all fine and well.”
Alyssa’s head was spinning. She followed Ruth almost in a daze. She was insatiably ticklish. She had always been. She had never been tickled against her will since childhood and wasn’t sure if she could stand it. At this point it didn’t seem like she had a choice. The cackling woman’s laughter faded off into the distance as they walked down the corridor.
Escorted to a room gated with a door similar to the first one. The room inside was a veritable dungeon with a myriad of restraint devices: ladders, X frames, stocks of various types, a rack and others.
Alyssa was ordered to remove her robe leaving her unclothed apart from her warm, soft slippers that encased her recently lotioned feet. She was placed with her ankles in a set of stocks at the end of a wooden bench and her wrists were tied with her arms taut above her head to chains hanging from the ceiling.
“I’ll leave your slippers on for now. This one really likes to tickle feet and I have a feeling she’s gonna fall in love with your cute little size fives. Toodle-loo!,” Ruth waived with her fingers, “See you at midnight!”
A clock on the wall read seven thirty. At seven thirty five a tall, regal appearing woman who appeared in her mid fifties entered the room, closing the door behind her. She needed no introduction: this was obviously going to be Alyssa’s tickler for the next four and a half hours.
Smiling she remarked “Hello, Alyssa. I know all about you and yes, I know that you are ticklish! I hear you have been a naughty, naughty girl. And you know what happens to naughty girls caught here, don’t you?”
The tickler’s grin stretched from ear to ear as she pronounced these words watching the nervous reaction of her soon to be ticklee.
“My name is Laura. I only tell you in the event you want you to beg me for mercy by name. If you beg a lot and really well, maybe I’ll go a little easier on you than I might otherwise.”
Nonchalantly pulling off Alyssa’s right slipper Laura pronounced “My, my, what do we have here?”
Alyssa’s face showed almost horror as she nearly whispered “my foot”
“And what a cute little foot it is! What size feet do you have, my dear?”
“Five” she answered shyly
“I bet they’re ticklish, aren’t they?”
“Yeheheeehes”, a little anticipatory giggle slipped out surprising Alyssa herself with an involuntary twitching of her newly bared toes.
“Well you know what happens to naughty girls with ticklish feet don’t you?”
Laura beamed as she wiggled one hand of her well manicured fingernails in the air where Alyssa could plainly see them.
“No, please, you don’t have to, do you? Please, Laura, really . . . I changed my mind about this.”
As Laura’s fingers approached the involuntarily wiggling foot she teased
“Ready? . . . .Here it comes! . . . Ready? . . .set . . . . kootchy, kootchy . . . .tickle tickle!”
The five fingers danced about the bottom of Alyssa’s soft, sensitive soles sending her instantly into uncontrolled peals of laughter and pleading.
“Oh gaahahahaha Nooooohahahahahaa. Please, Laura, Pleheeheease!! Pleheheheheeeease! You don’t know how much it tickles!
Ahhahahahahaaaaaaa!”
“My, my Allie. I haven’t even introduced you to my other little friend” as she wiggled the fingers of the other hand in plain sight slowly lowering them down to tickle the tops of Alyssa’s exposed and trapped foot leaving it no safe place to wiggle or squirm to escape the obviously talented and experienced fingers of her tickler. Alyssa’s reaction was no less than electric, her eyes wide open and her squealing laughter obtaining a new octave of pitch.
“Gootchie, gootchie, what ticklish little feet you have, my dear! . . ..,” Laura taunted, “But wait, I can’t say that. I’ve only tickled one.”
With that while one hand continued to tickle the other tugged gently at the other slipper.
“Nooooohoohohohohoooooo! Please! Pleaheheheheeeeeeeease!”
The second slipper removed, both of Alyssa’s soles were subjected to Laura’s smooth tickling tentacles. Her fingernails were grown long and manicured round and smooth for optimal effectiveness as weapons of tickle torture. The glee in Laura’s expression was blatant. She was clearly enjoying herself. The foot tickling continued on for what seemed like an eternity but the clock on the wall showed that less than an hour had passed.
Alyssa was panting when Laura finally stepped back for a moment to breathe.
“Well, my ticklish little friend, I bet you’ve got other tickle spots, don’t you?” Laura giggled as she walked around the stocks, slowly as if on a casual afternoon stroll.
“I love how Ruth has those pretty hands so way above your head. You know why?”
A look of anticipation and panic came across Alyssa’s face, yet she remained wordless.
“Those underarms look so smooth and creamy . . . I wonder if they feel as soft as they look?” Laura had an obviously feigned lilt in her voice as if she really didn’t know. The spider-tickling hands floated through the air ever closer to Alyssa’s underarms with Laura grinning broadly.
“Oh shit! Please Laura! Please! I wouldn’t do this to you! I can’t take anymore! Pleeeheeehehehheeeeeeease!”
Alyssa’s pleas were interrupted by uncontrolled hysterics the second Laura’s skilled fingertips made contact with her exquisitely sensitive armpits. Alyssa always made sure to keep them smooth and shaved and very soft.
She was now regretting her practice of doing so.
This time Laura was silent, dancing her fingers all about Alyssa’s armpits alternating between slow and unbearably light lazy strokes and frenzied finger dancing. Laura’s occasional teasing of “what do we have here?” when she moved along the ribs or gently tickled Alyssa’s exposed breasts only prompted more begging but to no avail.
“No, Laura, pleheheheeeeeease! Ahahahahaaaa! I’ll do anything! Anytheeeheheheeee”
And she meant it, she would do anything. This woman had the tickly type of fingers that nightmares are made of. Laura’s ministrations continued in a repeated rib count down Alyssa’s sides to gentle squeezes of her flanks which caused her to squirm anew erupting in peals of fresh laughter. Laura found a ticklish delight in Alyssa’s thighs and knees, her fingers dancing and squeezing causing uncontrollable bouts of laughter interspersed with desperate pleas for mercy. The last while was spent tormenting Alyssa’s soft, delicate feet. Laura had always delighted in tickling pretty girl feet but these were exceptionally wonderful. Laura felt as if she could tickle those pretty, soft little feet forever; a prospect that Alyssa would have died rather than consider.
After what seemed to be a never ending torment, Laura stopped. Alyssa found herself panting, so exhausted and hoarse-voiced that she could barely see the clock reading 11:50 PM.
“You’ve been a nice little pleading ticklee, my dear; just like I like it,” Laura remarked with a broad smile while gently stroking Alyssa’s cheek with the back of her hand, “As promised, I’m letting you off a little early.”
Within a few moments of Laura’s exit Allie fell asleep from sheer exhaustion despite her sitting upright position. She awoke to Ruth stirring her from her slumber as she lay in the large, plush bed of her suite. The morning sun poured in from a large window across the room.
“Time to wake up, sleeping beauty,” Ruth called to her playfully.
Feeling surprisingly well rested Alyssa’s eyes opened to see the matronly figure standing over her bed.
“You’re crazy,” she quipped suddenly alert. “That woman tortured me! I am so not dealing with her again! I . . .”
“Not to worry, my dear,” Ruth interrupted, “Laura’s had her fun with you already. We have numerous other clients we would like you to meet. Please shower, put your hair up, do your makeup and so on and be downstairs in the outfit hanging for you in the bathroom. Be ready and downstairs at nine o’clock and don’t be late.”
The clock on the wall read 7:30 am.
A long, hot shower made all the difference melting away all the muscle soreness from the previous night’s “activities”. Alyssa wasn’t sure how she would make it through a whole day and night. She barely survived Laura for a few hours.
“She had to be their worst though,” she thought, “there’s no way that any of those ladies could be worse.” She tried to reassure herself with this thought.
Hanging on the wall was a fire-engine red monokini with a pair of matching high heels and a fluffy bathrobe of a matching color.
Alyssa donned these items, applied her makeup highlighting her shapely lips with bright red lipstick and put her shoulder-length dishwater blonde hair up in a bun. The shoes fit perfectly on her size five feet with the heels high enough to put quite an arch in her foot as she wore them. She noticed that her feet were soft, free of callous and with a delicate French nail pedicure. Had this been done as she slept? She was so exhausted last evening it certainly was a plausible idea.
At 8:30 a knock at the door revealed a tray placed in the room with breakfast and a note:
‘Be sure to eat dear, you’ll need your energy.
Love,
Ruth’
Alyssa didn’t need a second prompting. She made sure to get some sustenance for what she suspected to be a very long day.
As she wandered downstairs into the great parlor the scene resembled a first class morning reception, complete with a string quartet playing chamber music, servants walking about with brunch hors d’ouvres and an all female crowd wandering about sporting drinks and small plates with the appetizers, most of them engaged in what seemed to be casual chit chat.
She recognized the African-American girl from the dungeon last night as she spoke with another woman dressed in what appeared to be a business suit. She was dressed much like Alyssa but in a yellow robe with what she suspected was a matching swimsuit and heels. She noticed that there were several girls dressed in like manner, all in various colors. Ruth approached her smiling placing a hand on Alyssa’s shoulder.
“Glad to see you’re here on time, my dear. You have a long day ahead of you.”
Alyssa noticed across the room an exceptionally pretty young woman, a short curvy raven haired woman dressed in a black monokini sitting on a couch with her feet on the lap of a smartly dressed Asian woman, her hair in a tight bun and appearing in her early thirties. The Asian tickled the brunette’s bare feet gently with her manicured fingers causing the pretty woman to giggle uncontrollably, her shoes obviously removed and sitting aside the couch. The tickled woman’s flowing locks swayed over her angelic face and gleaming smile as she giggled and squirmed.
“What’s going on over there?” Alyssa asked Ruth.
“Oh, that’s Annie. She’s so pretty and has such very ticklish feet. She also really enjoys the casino and well . . .let’s just say this is her third time here and she’s become a bit of a favorite.”
“That’s not what I mean, why is that woman tickling her like that? Is she her tickler for the day?”
“Oh, no my dear. This morning you will notice around you a number of girls dressed in a manner similar to yours. They are all in the same circumstance as yours. Every other month one of these events occurs. You will also notice wealthy women from all over the world who take a certain joy in tickling other women. These are my clients. This reception gives them the chance to see who their choices are, meet you and even ‘try you out’ as you see Annie doing over there. At 11 o’clock you and the rest of the girls will be escorted to your rooms in the dungeon and by noon the clients and I will have divided up who gets to tickle who. It’s all a very complicated bidding process – I won’t bore you with the details.
“So here’s what you need to do. Keep any conversations with the other ticklees brief as you are to remain available and approachable to the clients. Should any of these ladies ask you anything about yourself, no matter how personal – especially about tickling- you are to answer eagerly and pleasantly. In addition, should a client wish to give you a brief tickle you are to comply completely allowing yourself to be tickled. I assure you that these will be brief – less than five minutes. They have all been debriefed on each of you but some may want to get a closer look at what they’ll get for their money before they commit. There are almost as many ticklers as ticklees. If you don’t get at least one to bid to tickle you today I must ask you to repeat the weekend in two weeks and that would likely involve even more intense tickle torture where I accept male as well as female clientele as well as tickle you myself for good measure. If you don’t believe me, ask Annie. She learned only once the hard way and has not gone without finding a tickler for the weekend. And if it makes you feel better, she spent last night in the hands of an even more skilled tickler than Laura who has a penchant for tickling pretty girls who have sensitive bottoms and well. . . . let’s just say that even I felt a little bad for her.
“Oh, and Laura was part of an elite group of recurrently loyal clients. She requested a pretty lady with sensitive feet to herself with the chance to tickle her first. From what she has told me she was very much pleased. Well, have fun, dear.”
Alyssa was virtually speechless. She swallowed hard and walked into the room, unsure of what to do apart from wander around. Over in the corner stood the African-American girl with Laura standing in front of her tracing her fingers over her tummy exposed by her open robe causing a trail of giggles to burst forth from her while she dutifully held still offering no more physical protest apart from an the unavoidable twitchy wiggling exhibited by the truly ticklish.
“You are Alyssa?”
The voice belonged to a matronly looking woman in her mid fifties. Her hair cropped short and makeup stunningly applied, the power business suit she wore accentuated her air of authority.
“Uh, yeah . . uh, yeah, I’m Alyssa”
“Hi, I’m Melissa,” she replied a hand extended in greeting.
Alyssa wanted to cringe when feeling how incredibly soft the woman’s hand was, knowing what that hand may put her through. Remembering Ruth’s words, she smiled and replied, “Nice to meet you.”
“Okay, sweetie, how tall are you without those shoes on?”
Melissa appeared about five foot nine – rather a bit taller than Alyssa even with her impressive high heels.
“About an even five feet.”
“Nice. And what size are those shoes?”
“Uh . .” Alyssa internally shuddered remembering last night’s ordeal with Laura, “ size five.”
“How cute is that! Five feet with size five feet! So where’s your sweet spot, honey? You know that tickle spot that drives you crazier than all the others; where is it?”
“Um . . . .I don’t know really. I’m ticklish everywhere.”
“Hmmm. Well we’ll see. Why don’t you open your robe and place your hands behind your head.”
“Huh?”
“Ruth did tell you the rules didn’t she?”
“Oh yeah. Here you go” Alyssa complied.
Melissa’s skilled fingers lightly twittered along the surface of Alyssa’s smooth, silky armpits causing her to squirm away at first, then apologizing and returning to position moving no further away during Melissa’s ticklish ministrations than the minimal unavoidable squirming that could not be helped. Alyssa giggled and squealed, wide-eyed enduring her “test tickle” with her laughter spilling out uncontrollably to the delight of her tickler.
Melissa thanked her and walked away approaching a tall, busty redheaded girl in a robe on the other side of an hors de oeuvres table.
Alyssa noticed Annie walk by and tapped her shoulder.
“Hey, I’m Alyssa”
“Hi, I’m Annie. You’re new?”
“Yeah. Ruth gave me the talk about how I need to try and get a tickler on the first weekend . . “
“Oh shit, yeah,” Annie interrupted, “you do not want to have to come out here in two weeks. Ruth tickles you the first night herself and the clients are sadistic. These girls at least let you breathe from time to time.”
“Annie,” called a voice in an almost singing tone. It belonged to a short busty African-American woman in a smart looking pant suit. She continued by placing her hand on Annie’s shoulder “I’ve been talking to Melissa, you naughty girl. Come here, I need you to remove your robe and bend over the arm of the loveseat over here so I can test drive that curvy ticklish tush of yours.”
“Gotta go. Good luck, Alyssa” Annie was whisked off by her hand and within moments the cackles of her laughter could be heard throughout the room despite the chamber music as her curvaceous, sensitive buttocks squirmed under the nimble fingers of her delighted tickler. Her thong bikini bottoms offered no protection from the skilled fingers of her tickler as several of the other clients looked on with broad smiles of amusement.
The next hour started off nervously at first but Alyssa became gradually more acclimated. She felt a bit like a type of hostess herself, in an odd sort of way, seeing to the clients’ hospitality. She met about eight additional potential ticklers. Most of them well dressed in smart looking business attire, apart from one rancher in blue jeans a cotton blouse and suede vest complete with cowboy hat. This cowgirl liked to make her “Phillies” buck and beg from what she could gather.
Another woman from India was dressed in a luxuriously decorated traditional sari and seemed to have a penchant for tall girls with ticklish armpits. Alyssa saw her “trying out” the tall redheaded girl on two occasions. She would bet money that those two ended up sharing some time in a tickle dungeon together. Perish the thought of betting though, as that’s what got her in this mess to start with.
All of the clients chatted with her a bit and most of them wanted to give her a little tickle. None of them had her expose her bottom to give her the treatment Annie had received at the hands of several ladies that morning. Alyssa wasn’t sure how she would react to that as her bottom had never been tickled. Several of the clients had discovered the sensitivity of her dainty little feet and Alyssa removed and replaced her shoes more than a few times before eleven o’clock arrived.
When that hour did come Ruth sharply rung a fork against a mimosa containing champagne glass in order to command the attention of the room.
“Well ladies, the morning introductions seem to have been a success. Tickle girls, you now are dismissed to use the bathroom and freshen up. In thirty minutes please report to the sitting room adjacent to the vestibule for your assignments. I do hope all of you have persuaded some of our clients to invest in some time with you as I would hate to put any of you through a personal tickle torture session and have you come back again so soon. Well . . . not really, I’d actually love to tickle each of you. Anyway, good luck and we’ll see you soon.”
The girls were ushered out of the parlor by several female servants with two large wooden doors closing behind them sealing the parlor off for the clients to bid and deliberate as to who got to tickle whom.
Alyssa took advantage of the time to freshen up and certainly use the bathroom lest she be compelled to do so involuntarily in the face of relentless tickling.
She was led into the elevator with several other girls, each accompanied by a servant dressed in a traditional uniform. A large Hispanic woman accompanied her through a maze of corridors to a room containing numerous unfamiliar devices and mirrors on several of the walls and the ceiling.
Alyssa was directed to remover her robe remaining clad only in her monikini and shoes. She was to assume a kneeling position on a raised padded mattress with her feet dangling off the back end. Her ankles were secured with leather straps and another set over the backs of her knees. Her hands were secures above her head with a similar type of restraint used the previous evening.
“Miss Kim requested this room specifically for you. Good luck, senorita. You’re gonna need it.” With that the servant exited the room before Alyssa could inquire as to the meaning of her remarks. She did not recall meeting a lady named Kim.
Within a few moments a series of clicking sounds echoing over the cold stone floor became slowly louder. These were the distinct sound of stiletto high heels.
In walked the Asian woman she saw tickling Annie’s feet in the parlor. She had a tight smile on his face, still dressed in the sharp business suit. Alyssa felt butterflies in her stomach.
“You know, I’ve been coming to these little gatherings for some time,” Kim started “and somehow I enjoy it every bit as much now as the first time.”
Kim was silent in standing before Alyssa’s stretched out body. One polished red fingernail lightly scratched an exposed left armpit and the giggling was unable to be stifled. Alyssa knew better than to beg as she’d seen this woman tickle before and was convinced that pleading with her would be in vain.
The tickler was silent and relentless. Her manicured fingers glided over the pretty girl’s skin and smooth bathing outfit which only served to magnify the sensations.
Alyssa’s laughter echoed throughout the room but Kim appeared unaffected. All the squirming, squealing and begging made no difference to the experienced tickler.
After a while Ruth appeared and inquired with Kim if she was enjoying herself. Kim motioned Ruth away and spoke with her in hushed tones. Alyssa didn’t care, any break from the tickling was welcomed as she rested for a moment, eyes closed, suspended by her bonds.
Opening her eyes she saw Kim smiling walking toward her, smiling broadly, all ten fire-red fingernails dancing in the air as she slowly approached.
“No! Please! I’m begging you! I can’t take ahaaaahhahahahhha!”
Alyssa squealed in shock as Kim had not reached her yet but somehow she felt the unbearably ticklish gliding of fingernails along the bottoms of her feet from behind her. Then she realized: “Ruth! She’s tickling me too!”
Kim was inches away when Alyssa came to realize her position again with ten tickling fingers inching toward her tummy. When they landed her laughter skyrocketed in pitch from the touch of two skilled and merciless ticklers.
During this seemingly endless onslaught of tickling Kim found that the pretty blonde’s hips were excruciatingly sensitive. Ruth wandered from the feet up the ankles and the backs of Alyssa’s legs with her skilled fingers. Much to her delight Alyssa nearly passed out when those fingers teased her tight yet sensitive buttocks. Ruth smiled.
Alyssa had eventually passed out from the ordeal. She was unaware of what time she was carried out of her dungeon cell and placed in the plush bed blanketed in the sleep earned by hours of physical exhaustion.
The next morning Alyssa awoke to breakfast as the morning before. A servant drew a warm bath for her with soothing menthol-like bath salts that melted away the soreness and fatigue from her sore muscles. She came out of the bathroom to her room tidied up and a note on the bed to meet downstairs once she was dressed and ready. A stunning gown of sheer material with matching thigh high stockings and shoes lay neatly on the bed.
As she approached the parlor, she found three rows of chairs set out with the girls in the same predicament as she seated in them waiting in anticipation chatting quietly amongst themselves. The clients were nowhere to be seen. Ruth appeared at the front of the room and began to speak just after Alyssa and a few others were seated.
“Well ladies, I do hope you all slept well last night. Today is the final day for our weekend of fun.”
“Fun for who?” Alyssa couldn’t help but think to herself.
“Today the three top bidding clients will get the chance to tickle torture one of each of you in a one on one tickle torture session for half the time and will spend the other half helping to tickle some of those who are not part of the lucky three.
“The remainder of you will be gang tickled by multiple clients in groups. This is a situation which I assure you is much more difficult to endure and the particulars will vary from girl to girl with many of you tickled not only by clients but by one or more of the three chosen lucky ticklees among you.
“How are the three lucky girls determined? Simple, each of you will spend ten minutes interviewing with each of the three top bidders and from that interview they will each choose one. It is your job to convince them what a delicious one on one tickle you would be more than any of the others and well . . .you girls know how to wheel and deal I am sure.”
“Here is a schedule of interview times for each of you. The study, the lounge and the tea parlor will be utilized for the interviews. Those in between may remain here until you are called for by your interviewer. Oh, and by the way, if you are not one of the three, I am looking forward to tickling you too!
Interviews begin in five minutes. Good luck ladies!”
In a waiting area all of the ticklees waited until called into a room with three ladies sitting at a table, papers in front of them. They were each queried about their ticklish spots, what techniques tickled them most and why they should be chosen for a one on one tickle session with some time spent tickling instead of being tickled by multiple other ticklers.
Three women’s names were called when the interviews were done and Alyssa didn’t make the list. She was nervous. One tickler was bad enough and then Ruth tickling her along with Kim was unbearable. She wasn’t sure she could survive more than two with her sanity intact. No matter now, all that was left was getting through it.
Alyssa was escorted once again back to the basement. She was instructed to remove her dress and shoes and to lay on her back on a table well padded with remarkably soft, plush, breathable material. Her limbs were restrained taut in an almost spread-eagle fashion. The servant then turned a crank tilting the table slightly so that Alyssa’s head was up at and her feet down by about twenty degrees. At that the servant left her in her newly acquired position. The restraints were luxuriously well padded and soft. At least it was comfortable.
Five women entered the room and stood about the table. All were impeccably dressed and smiling broadly. The manicured fingernails of each stood out to Allie, likely because she knew what those fingers would soon be up to. One of the women spoke up.
“Well, Alyssa. We hear you like to gamble. We thought it only fair then to include some of your favorite things in today’s events o here’s how it’s going to go. I have in my hand a six sided die. Every ten minutes we will roll the die and whatever rolls that is the number of ticklers you will have to endure until the next roll of the die. We will each take turns rolling. If one through five we will each roll and the highest rolls will tickle while the others watch. If a six is rolled we will call in one of the three of your chosen compatriots who will join us in tickling you mercilessly knowing she will be tickled without mercy herself should she slow down even a bit. Ready to try your luck?”
Alyssa said nothing and the answer would have been ignored anyway. The woman who spoke, Alyssa surmised from the conversation that her name was Lisa, walked over to a small table set several feet away from the foot of the table where Alyssa could see the rolls of the dice occurring and hear the gambling over who would get to tickle her. The table had a raised lip around the edge to prevent the dice from falling off and from what Alyssa could tell given the torch-lit room the top of the table was lined with green felt just much like would be a casino standard.
“Three!” Lisa exclaimed.
Butterflies fluttered in Alyssa’s tummy. “It could be worse,” she thought to herself, “at least there’s only three.”
There was more dice rolling and some brief quiet conversation among the ticklers. Lisa and two others approached while the remaining two sat down in large, comfortable appearing overstuffed chairs across the room. Alyssa had jut noticed these chairs for the first time.
Grinning broadly Lisa stood to the left of the table at Alyssa’s midsection while each of the other two pulled up small wooden stools settling themselves in each in front of one of Alyssa’s bare, exposed size five feet.
“I just love when I gamble and win!,” Lisa teased and then raised her hands with clawed fingers in the air above Alyssa’s tummy. “Okay girls, ready . . . . .set . . . . .tickle!”
Three sets of hands suddenly set Alyssa squealing with electrifying tickling sensations all over her feet and tummy. The two ladies at her feet held poker-faced calmly dancing their fingers all about Alyssa’s squirming sensitive feet. Lisa was grinning almost so widely as Alyssa was as she delicately danced her hands all over the young girl’s smooth tight belly forcing out giggles and squeals and occasional pleas for mercy which the tickled girl knew by now were futile. Alyssa tried to squirm her trunk from side to side to escape her ticklers menacing fingers but her ticklish tummy was easily followed without so much as interrupting one stroke of a finger, so tight were her bonds.
The first ten minutes seemed like forever but all at once the tickling stopped and Lisa picked up the dice and handed it to another woman – the short, busty African-American woman Alyssa recognized from the day before. She rolled the dice and there were several other ladies rolling and hushed conversation once again.
The short, busty tickler with her long, manicured nails walked over behind the table and disappeared from view. A tall, slender woman appearing to be from India and wearing a traditional sari slowly walked toward Alyssa and stopped just inches in front of her, smiling broadly. Alyssa heard a noise and felt a strange sensation in the lower part of the table. A section of the table had been removed. A sudden ticklish shock with a wave of uncontrolled laughter with a sudden mask of hilarity came across her. This was apparently stimulated by the first tickler dancing her manicured fingernails all over Alyssa’s bared bottom. She squealed and squirmed but could not escape. She recalled this woman tickling Annie’s bottom and found her current predicament to be no surprise.
“I’d bet you are also ticklish somewhere else,” she heard in a distinct far eastern accent from the tickler standing before her. She raised her hands with fingers wiggling in the air slowly making their way to their destination. Alyssa could tell where she was headed. She was still reeling with laughter having her sensitive buttocks played with by a skilled tush tickler. She could only laugh hysterically, shaking her head pleading “No! No! Nohohohohahahahhahaaaa!” The fingers landed on Alyssa’s soft, pink nipples ever so gently dancing and teasing them driving her out of her mind. Alternating between Alyssa’s delicate breasts, her buttery soft armpits and petite, sensitive ribs, she squealed squirmed and begged like she never had before, but to no avail. It was the full ten minutes before she had any pause.
The afternoon continued like this with a few rolls of “5” and a couple of “1”. Each tickler seemed very eager and each seemed to fancy tickling a particular part of her sensitive anatomy. Once a “6” was rolled and the tall African-American girl she saw in yellow the day before was brought in and instructed to bend over and tickle Alyssa’s legs, thighs and, buttocks and groin area while another woman tickled her waist, ribs an exposed buttocks with the degree of her tickling intensity depending on Alyssa’s reactions. Needless to say, Alyssa got the tickling of a lifetime during this session and truly would have done anything, absolutely anything, for it to end. And eventually it did, only to be followed by another roll of the dice and another merciless tickle session and another and another.
The afternoon did pass however and Alyssa was eventually freed and escorted upstairs to freshen up in the suite where the clothes she wore on Friday were cleaned, pressed and lay neatly upon the bed waiting for her.
When she finally emerged after a long bath and getting herself dressed, Ruth greeted her with a hug and a smile. It seemed that apart from the servants, the others had left. Alyssa’s rent was paid in full and she would not have another payment due for another month. Ruth invited her to repeat this ordeal every other month in exchange for rent and would even upgrade her to a new, larger and upgraded unit. This was a completely voluntary option of course, extended to Alyssa due to the rave reviews Ruth received about her from her ticklers. Alyssa left, driving home, contemplating whether she could tolerate such a new arrangement.
All the best,
Professor Tkl
The following events are purely fictional. Any correspondence with real or otherwise described persons or events is purely coincidental and unintentional.
“Alternate Arrangement”
Alyssa was beginning to panic. She was down to her last few chips and had enough to play one last hand. She regretted not walking away when she was five hundred dollars up but she thought she could “ride the wave” and come out with enough to pay her rent for at least last month.
Dealer ,“Queen”.
Then her cards came: she an eight and a deuce, then came a king. She stayed and sighed at her good fortune – twenty was a solid hand.
Dealer “Ace, twenty one.”
Away went her chips. This was money she needed to win and then some. Her landlord was already threatening eviction and she was three months behind on her rent. She had inquired with several banks for personal loans but with her credit in its current state she was declined at each, even at the institutions noted for higher interest rates for those with bad credit. Her plastic had been maxed out for a year so a cash advance there was not a possibility. She needed a place to live and had nowhere to go having been evicted twice before in the last year.
Mrs. Ruckerson was a no-nonsense businesswoman and a rather wealthy property owner. She gave Alyssa a lease on her word that her past credit history did not reflect her current intentions and her promise to pay the rent regularly and on time. Alyssa dreaded having to face her on this but knew she must. Waitressing in a small café and bartending three nights a week was not enough to pay the bills and support a gambling habit acquired in the last nine months since her twenty-first birthday. As she ran her fingers through her long, dishwater blonde locks she sighed and realized the one thing she must do in the morning with Mrs. Ruckerson - plead for more time, begging if necessary.
Alyssa awaited her fate sitting on a small couch beside an office door. Her small but curvy five foot tall frame fit comfortably enough in the plush furniture.
“Alyssa? Please come in,” smiled Mrs. Ruckerson.
Nervously Alyssa stood and entered the office taking a seat in front of a large oak desk. Alyssa pleaded for more time to pay her back rent as the middle-aged woman’s smile turned to a frown.
“I’m sorry, but you know very well the terms of your lease. You’ll have to be out by the end of the weekend.”
Tears welled up in Alyssa’s eyes and she swallowed her pride and begged. She begged and pleaded stating she would do anything for some more time.
“Anything?”
“Yes, anything,” she sobbed. The tone of the woman’s response made Alyssa nervous but she felt as if she had no choice.
“Well, more time to pay is not possible but I do have another business venture in which I require some more help and you could perhaps earn a month’s rent over the course of the weekend. I will tell you that it is exhausting work. It will require your entire weekend however – you will be accommodated to stay at one of my other properties. The hours are long and the work is intense and I would require some preparation on your part as well as your assurance of absolute discretion. If you can handle that, we can talk.”
An overjoyed Alyssa was handed a sealed manila envelope.
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Ruckerson! You won’t regret it!”
“Please, call me Ruth. Now you are to follow the instructions inside the envelope to the letter. You will need to arrive at the property no later that six Friday evening. Do not be late or this one time offer will no longer be available.”
Once back in her apartment Alyssa carefully opened the envelope and read her instructions. The property was almost an hour drive away in the remote countryside.
She arrived at a stately mansion in the hilly countryside. Walking up to the door, overnight bag in hand, she was greeted by a smiling Ruth Ruckerson.
“Thank you so much again, Ruth! You have no idea how much it means to me with you giving me a chance to earn my rent and stay in my apartment!
So do you need this place cleaned? It looks huge but I know I can do it!”
“No, my dear. I already have a cleaning staff. Please come this way.”
Alyssa was shown to the large luxurious suite that was to be her room for the weekend. It contained a king size four poster bed with a canopy a plush seating area and a huge bathroom complete with jacuzzi tub and a large vanity.
“Now, my dear, I must ask that you shower and don the robe and slippers provided for you in the bathroom. When you are done, please use the cosmetics appliances provided to apply your best makeup and fix your hair up. Then you will be given further directions.”
Doing as was asked, the robed Alyssa emerged from the bathroom to see her hostess awaiting her.
“I’m sorry, Ruth you startled me!”
“It’s okay. Please come with me.”
“Well, I need to get dressed, all I have on is this robe and the slippers”
“No need, please come.”
Ruth led her to an elevator aside the door of which was a lock in to which she inserted a key from her pocket. The elevator door opened, the two entered and upon closing descended several floors.
“So, Ruth, what exactly will I be doing?”
“Well, let’s say it’s a barrel of laughs”
With the door opening a long, dark, torch lit corridor faced them. Down the corridor they walked coming to a three way intersection. Alyssa heard something from the corridor to the right of her.
“What is that noise?”
“Why not,” Ruth quipped, “let’s go see for ourselves, shall we?”
As they walked toward the sound it became more and more distinct. It was laughter. Female laughter. It actually sounded more like uncontrolled cackling. As they approached a thick, closed wooden door they could hear pleas for something to stop, pleas amidst the laughing woman’s repeated guffaws. Butterflies in Alyssa’s stomach were flittering about.
Ruth inserted yet another key into the door and opened it. What Alyssa saw inside nearly made her faint. A young African-American woman, no more than nineteen was strapped on her back to a rack. She was completely naked. A stately appearing woman in her early sixties stood over her with her long matronly nails dancing over the helpless girl’s tummy causing her to squeal and squirm laughing uncontrollably but unable to break her bonds. The tickler had a broad grin upon her face as well, obviously enjoying her task. The tormented woman pleaded with her tickler repeatedly for mercy but with no avail.
“Please! No more tummy, pleheeheeheeeheeheeeeeease! HAhahahahah! I’m beggin’ you! Stahaaahahahaaaap! Ahhhhahahahahaaaa!”
“What’s the matter? Ticklish little tummy we have have don’t we? Kootchy, kootchy, kootchy! Koootchy, kootchy, kootchy!”
The words of the tickler seemed to make the pitch of the tickled girl’s laughter escalate even further as if these torments alone could make her even more ticklish.
Closing the door, Ruth explained “My clients are wealthy women who take pleasure in tickling to extreme lengths younger, attractive ladies. They are willing to pay handsomely for the fulfillment of that pleasure. This weekend you will be rented out, by me, as a tickle slave. You will have a new mistress each day who may tickle you however and to whatever extent she wishes. Fulfill your weekend and your debt with me will be cleared. Not only that, you will have no rent to pay for the next thirty days.
“Anyway, your first mistress will be anxious to get started as she only has until midnight being she gets to be the first to tickle you. Let’s go, sweetie and remember that you are being hired to be tickled so much as your mistress wishes; so be a good girl and it will be all fine and well.”
Alyssa’s head was spinning. She followed Ruth almost in a daze. She was insatiably ticklish. She had always been. She had never been tickled against her will since childhood and wasn’t sure if she could stand it. At this point it didn’t seem like she had a choice. The cackling woman’s laughter faded off into the distance as they walked down the corridor.
Escorted to a room gated with a door similar to the first one. The room inside was a veritable dungeon with a myriad of restraint devices: ladders, X frames, stocks of various types, a rack and others.
Alyssa was ordered to remove her robe leaving her unclothed apart from her warm, soft slippers that encased her recently lotioned feet. She was placed with her ankles in a set of stocks at the end of a wooden bench and her wrists were tied with her arms taut above her head to chains hanging from the ceiling.
“I’ll leave your slippers on for now. This one really likes to tickle feet and I have a feeling she’s gonna fall in love with your cute little size fives. Toodle-loo!,” Ruth waived with her fingers, “See you at midnight!”
A clock on the wall read seven thirty. At seven thirty five a tall, regal appearing woman who appeared in her mid fifties entered the room, closing the door behind her. She needed no introduction: this was obviously going to be Alyssa’s tickler for the next four and a half hours.
Smiling she remarked “Hello, Alyssa. I know all about you and yes, I know that you are ticklish! I hear you have been a naughty, naughty girl. And you know what happens to naughty girls caught here, don’t you?”
The tickler’s grin stretched from ear to ear as she pronounced these words watching the nervous reaction of her soon to be ticklee.
“My name is Laura. I only tell you in the event you want you to beg me for mercy by name. If you beg a lot and really well, maybe I’ll go a little easier on you than I might otherwise.”
Nonchalantly pulling off Alyssa’s right slipper Laura pronounced “My, my, what do we have here?”
Alyssa’s face showed almost horror as she nearly whispered “my foot”
“And what a cute little foot it is! What size feet do you have, my dear?”
“Five” she answered shyly
“I bet they’re ticklish, aren’t they?”
“Yeheheeehes”, a little anticipatory giggle slipped out surprising Alyssa herself with an involuntary twitching of her newly bared toes.
“Well you know what happens to naughty girls with ticklish feet don’t you?”
Laura beamed as she wiggled one hand of her well manicured fingernails in the air where Alyssa could plainly see them.
“No, please, you don’t have to, do you? Please, Laura, really . . . I changed my mind about this.”
As Laura’s fingers approached the involuntarily wiggling foot she teased
“Ready? . . . .Here it comes! . . . Ready? . . .set . . . . kootchy, kootchy . . . .tickle tickle!”
The five fingers danced about the bottom of Alyssa’s soft, sensitive soles sending her instantly into uncontrolled peals of laughter and pleading.
“Oh gaahahahaha Nooooohahahahahaa. Please, Laura, Pleheeheease!! Pleheheheheeeease! You don’t know how much it tickles!
Ahhahahahahaaaaaaa!”
“My, my Allie. I haven’t even introduced you to my other little friend” as she wiggled the fingers of the other hand in plain sight slowly lowering them down to tickle the tops of Alyssa’s exposed and trapped foot leaving it no safe place to wiggle or squirm to escape the obviously talented and experienced fingers of her tickler. Alyssa’s reaction was no less than electric, her eyes wide open and her squealing laughter obtaining a new octave of pitch.
“Gootchie, gootchie, what ticklish little feet you have, my dear! . . ..,” Laura taunted, “But wait, I can’t say that. I’ve only tickled one.”
With that while one hand continued to tickle the other tugged gently at the other slipper.
“Nooooohoohohohohoooooo! Please! Pleaheheheheeeeeeeease!”
The second slipper removed, both of Alyssa’s soles were subjected to Laura’s smooth tickling tentacles. Her fingernails were grown long and manicured round and smooth for optimal effectiveness as weapons of tickle torture. The glee in Laura’s expression was blatant. She was clearly enjoying herself. The foot tickling continued on for what seemed like an eternity but the clock on the wall showed that less than an hour had passed.
Alyssa was panting when Laura finally stepped back for a moment to breathe.
“Well, my ticklish little friend, I bet you’ve got other tickle spots, don’t you?” Laura giggled as she walked around the stocks, slowly as if on a casual afternoon stroll.
“I love how Ruth has those pretty hands so way above your head. You know why?”
A look of anticipation and panic came across Alyssa’s face, yet she remained wordless.
“Those underarms look so smooth and creamy . . . I wonder if they feel as soft as they look?” Laura had an obviously feigned lilt in her voice as if she really didn’t know. The spider-tickling hands floated through the air ever closer to Alyssa’s underarms with Laura grinning broadly.
“Oh shit! Please Laura! Please! I wouldn’t do this to you! I can’t take anymore! Pleeeheeehehehheeeeeeease!”
Alyssa’s pleas were interrupted by uncontrolled hysterics the second Laura’s skilled fingertips made contact with her exquisitely sensitive armpits. Alyssa always made sure to keep them smooth and shaved and very soft.
She was now regretting her practice of doing so.
This time Laura was silent, dancing her fingers all about Alyssa’s armpits alternating between slow and unbearably light lazy strokes and frenzied finger dancing. Laura’s occasional teasing of “what do we have here?” when she moved along the ribs or gently tickled Alyssa’s exposed breasts only prompted more begging but to no avail.
“No, Laura, pleheheheeeeeease! Ahahahahaaaa! I’ll do anything! Anytheeeheheheeee”
And she meant it, she would do anything. This woman had the tickly type of fingers that nightmares are made of. Laura’s ministrations continued in a repeated rib count down Alyssa’s sides to gentle squeezes of her flanks which caused her to squirm anew erupting in peals of fresh laughter. Laura found a ticklish delight in Alyssa’s thighs and knees, her fingers dancing and squeezing causing uncontrollable bouts of laughter interspersed with desperate pleas for mercy. The last while was spent tormenting Alyssa’s soft, delicate feet. Laura had always delighted in tickling pretty girl feet but these were exceptionally wonderful. Laura felt as if she could tickle those pretty, soft little feet forever; a prospect that Alyssa would have died rather than consider.
After what seemed to be a never ending torment, Laura stopped. Alyssa found herself panting, so exhausted and hoarse-voiced that she could barely see the clock reading 11:50 PM.
“You’ve been a nice little pleading ticklee, my dear; just like I like it,” Laura remarked with a broad smile while gently stroking Alyssa’s cheek with the back of her hand, “As promised, I’m letting you off a little early.”
Within a few moments of Laura’s exit Allie fell asleep from sheer exhaustion despite her sitting upright position. She awoke to Ruth stirring her from her slumber as she lay in the large, plush bed of her suite. The morning sun poured in from a large window across the room.
“Time to wake up, sleeping beauty,” Ruth called to her playfully.
Feeling surprisingly well rested Alyssa’s eyes opened to see the matronly figure standing over her bed.
“You’re crazy,” she quipped suddenly alert. “That woman tortured me! I am so not dealing with her again! I . . .”
“Not to worry, my dear,” Ruth interrupted, “Laura’s had her fun with you already. We have numerous other clients we would like you to meet. Please shower, put your hair up, do your makeup and so on and be downstairs in the outfit hanging for you in the bathroom. Be ready and downstairs at nine o’clock and don’t be late.”
The clock on the wall read 7:30 am.
A long, hot shower made all the difference melting away all the muscle soreness from the previous night’s “activities”. Alyssa wasn’t sure how she would make it through a whole day and night. She barely survived Laura for a few hours.
“She had to be their worst though,” she thought, “there’s no way that any of those ladies could be worse.” She tried to reassure herself with this thought.
Hanging on the wall was a fire-engine red monokini with a pair of matching high heels and a fluffy bathrobe of a matching color.
Alyssa donned these items, applied her makeup highlighting her shapely lips with bright red lipstick and put her shoulder-length dishwater blonde hair up in a bun. The shoes fit perfectly on her size five feet with the heels high enough to put quite an arch in her foot as she wore them. She noticed that her feet were soft, free of callous and with a delicate French nail pedicure. Had this been done as she slept? She was so exhausted last evening it certainly was a plausible idea.
At 8:30 a knock at the door revealed a tray placed in the room with breakfast and a note:
‘Be sure to eat dear, you’ll need your energy.
Love,
Ruth’
Alyssa didn’t need a second prompting. She made sure to get some sustenance for what she suspected to be a very long day.
As she wandered downstairs into the great parlor the scene resembled a first class morning reception, complete with a string quartet playing chamber music, servants walking about with brunch hors d’ouvres and an all female crowd wandering about sporting drinks and small plates with the appetizers, most of them engaged in what seemed to be casual chit chat.
She recognized the African-American girl from the dungeon last night as she spoke with another woman dressed in what appeared to be a business suit. She was dressed much like Alyssa but in a yellow robe with what she suspected was a matching swimsuit and heels. She noticed that there were several girls dressed in like manner, all in various colors. Ruth approached her smiling placing a hand on Alyssa’s shoulder.
“Glad to see you’re here on time, my dear. You have a long day ahead of you.”
Alyssa noticed across the room an exceptionally pretty young woman, a short curvy raven haired woman dressed in a black monokini sitting on a couch with her feet on the lap of a smartly dressed Asian woman, her hair in a tight bun and appearing in her early thirties. The Asian tickled the brunette’s bare feet gently with her manicured fingers causing the pretty woman to giggle uncontrollably, her shoes obviously removed and sitting aside the couch. The tickled woman’s flowing locks swayed over her angelic face and gleaming smile as she giggled and squirmed.
“What’s going on over there?” Alyssa asked Ruth.
“Oh, that’s Annie. She’s so pretty and has such very ticklish feet. She also really enjoys the casino and well . . .let’s just say this is her third time here and she’s become a bit of a favorite.”
“That’s not what I mean, why is that woman tickling her like that? Is she her tickler for the day?”
“Oh, no my dear. This morning you will notice around you a number of girls dressed in a manner similar to yours. They are all in the same circumstance as yours. Every other month one of these events occurs. You will also notice wealthy women from all over the world who take a certain joy in tickling other women. These are my clients. This reception gives them the chance to see who their choices are, meet you and even ‘try you out’ as you see Annie doing over there. At 11 o’clock you and the rest of the girls will be escorted to your rooms in the dungeon and by noon the clients and I will have divided up who gets to tickle who. It’s all a very complicated bidding process – I won’t bore you with the details.
“So here’s what you need to do. Keep any conversations with the other ticklees brief as you are to remain available and approachable to the clients. Should any of these ladies ask you anything about yourself, no matter how personal – especially about tickling- you are to answer eagerly and pleasantly. In addition, should a client wish to give you a brief tickle you are to comply completely allowing yourself to be tickled. I assure you that these will be brief – less than five minutes. They have all been debriefed on each of you but some may want to get a closer look at what they’ll get for their money before they commit. There are almost as many ticklers as ticklees. If you don’t get at least one to bid to tickle you today I must ask you to repeat the weekend in two weeks and that would likely involve even more intense tickle torture where I accept male as well as female clientele as well as tickle you myself for good measure. If you don’t believe me, ask Annie. She learned only once the hard way and has not gone without finding a tickler for the weekend. And if it makes you feel better, she spent last night in the hands of an even more skilled tickler than Laura who has a penchant for tickling pretty girls who have sensitive bottoms and well. . . . let’s just say that even I felt a little bad for her.
“Oh, and Laura was part of an elite group of recurrently loyal clients. She requested a pretty lady with sensitive feet to herself with the chance to tickle her first. From what she has told me she was very much pleased. Well, have fun, dear.”
Alyssa was virtually speechless. She swallowed hard and walked into the room, unsure of what to do apart from wander around. Over in the corner stood the African-American girl with Laura standing in front of her tracing her fingers over her tummy exposed by her open robe causing a trail of giggles to burst forth from her while she dutifully held still offering no more physical protest apart from an the unavoidable twitchy wiggling exhibited by the truly ticklish.
“You are Alyssa?”
The voice belonged to a matronly looking woman in her mid fifties. Her hair cropped short and makeup stunningly applied, the power business suit she wore accentuated her air of authority.
“Uh, yeah . . uh, yeah, I’m Alyssa”
“Hi, I’m Melissa,” she replied a hand extended in greeting.
Alyssa wanted to cringe when feeling how incredibly soft the woman’s hand was, knowing what that hand may put her through. Remembering Ruth’s words, she smiled and replied, “Nice to meet you.”
“Okay, sweetie, how tall are you without those shoes on?”
Melissa appeared about five foot nine – rather a bit taller than Alyssa even with her impressive high heels.
“About an even five feet.”
“Nice. And what size are those shoes?”
“Uh . .” Alyssa internally shuddered remembering last night’s ordeal with Laura, “ size five.”
“How cute is that! Five feet with size five feet! So where’s your sweet spot, honey? You know that tickle spot that drives you crazier than all the others; where is it?”
“Um . . . .I don’t know really. I’m ticklish everywhere.”
“Hmmm. Well we’ll see. Why don’t you open your robe and place your hands behind your head.”
“Huh?”
“Ruth did tell you the rules didn’t she?”
“Oh yeah. Here you go” Alyssa complied.
Melissa’s skilled fingers lightly twittered along the surface of Alyssa’s smooth, silky armpits causing her to squirm away at first, then apologizing and returning to position moving no further away during Melissa’s ticklish ministrations than the minimal unavoidable squirming that could not be helped. Alyssa giggled and squealed, wide-eyed enduring her “test tickle” with her laughter spilling out uncontrollably to the delight of her tickler.
Melissa thanked her and walked away approaching a tall, busty redheaded girl in a robe on the other side of an hors de oeuvres table.
Alyssa noticed Annie walk by and tapped her shoulder.
“Hey, I’m Alyssa”
“Hi, I’m Annie. You’re new?”
“Yeah. Ruth gave me the talk about how I need to try and get a tickler on the first weekend . . “
“Oh shit, yeah,” Annie interrupted, “you do not want to have to come out here in two weeks. Ruth tickles you the first night herself and the clients are sadistic. These girls at least let you breathe from time to time.”
“Annie,” called a voice in an almost singing tone. It belonged to a short busty African-American woman in a smart looking pant suit. She continued by placing her hand on Annie’s shoulder “I’ve been talking to Melissa, you naughty girl. Come here, I need you to remove your robe and bend over the arm of the loveseat over here so I can test drive that curvy ticklish tush of yours.”
“Gotta go. Good luck, Alyssa” Annie was whisked off by her hand and within moments the cackles of her laughter could be heard throughout the room despite the chamber music as her curvaceous, sensitive buttocks squirmed under the nimble fingers of her delighted tickler. Her thong bikini bottoms offered no protection from the skilled fingers of her tickler as several of the other clients looked on with broad smiles of amusement.
The next hour started off nervously at first but Alyssa became gradually more acclimated. She felt a bit like a type of hostess herself, in an odd sort of way, seeing to the clients’ hospitality. She met about eight additional potential ticklers. Most of them well dressed in smart looking business attire, apart from one rancher in blue jeans a cotton blouse and suede vest complete with cowboy hat. This cowgirl liked to make her “Phillies” buck and beg from what she could gather.
Another woman from India was dressed in a luxuriously decorated traditional sari and seemed to have a penchant for tall girls with ticklish armpits. Alyssa saw her “trying out” the tall redheaded girl on two occasions. She would bet money that those two ended up sharing some time in a tickle dungeon together. Perish the thought of betting though, as that’s what got her in this mess to start with.
All of the clients chatted with her a bit and most of them wanted to give her a little tickle. None of them had her expose her bottom to give her the treatment Annie had received at the hands of several ladies that morning. Alyssa wasn’t sure how she would react to that as her bottom had never been tickled. Several of the clients had discovered the sensitivity of her dainty little feet and Alyssa removed and replaced her shoes more than a few times before eleven o’clock arrived.
When that hour did come Ruth sharply rung a fork against a mimosa containing champagne glass in order to command the attention of the room.
“Well ladies, the morning introductions seem to have been a success. Tickle girls, you now are dismissed to use the bathroom and freshen up. In thirty minutes please report to the sitting room adjacent to the vestibule for your assignments. I do hope all of you have persuaded some of our clients to invest in some time with you as I would hate to put any of you through a personal tickle torture session and have you come back again so soon. Well . . . not really, I’d actually love to tickle each of you. Anyway, good luck and we’ll see you soon.”
The girls were ushered out of the parlor by several female servants with two large wooden doors closing behind them sealing the parlor off for the clients to bid and deliberate as to who got to tickle whom.
Alyssa took advantage of the time to freshen up and certainly use the bathroom lest she be compelled to do so involuntarily in the face of relentless tickling.
She was led into the elevator with several other girls, each accompanied by a servant dressed in a traditional uniform. A large Hispanic woman accompanied her through a maze of corridors to a room containing numerous unfamiliar devices and mirrors on several of the walls and the ceiling.
Alyssa was directed to remover her robe remaining clad only in her monikini and shoes. She was to assume a kneeling position on a raised padded mattress with her feet dangling off the back end. Her ankles were secured with leather straps and another set over the backs of her knees. Her hands were secures above her head with a similar type of restraint used the previous evening.
“Miss Kim requested this room specifically for you. Good luck, senorita. You’re gonna need it.” With that the servant exited the room before Alyssa could inquire as to the meaning of her remarks. She did not recall meeting a lady named Kim.
Within a few moments a series of clicking sounds echoing over the cold stone floor became slowly louder. These were the distinct sound of stiletto high heels.
In walked the Asian woman she saw tickling Annie’s feet in the parlor. She had a tight smile on his face, still dressed in the sharp business suit. Alyssa felt butterflies in her stomach.
“You know, I’ve been coming to these little gatherings for some time,” Kim started “and somehow I enjoy it every bit as much now as the first time.”
Kim was silent in standing before Alyssa’s stretched out body. One polished red fingernail lightly scratched an exposed left armpit and the giggling was unable to be stifled. Alyssa knew better than to beg as she’d seen this woman tickle before and was convinced that pleading with her would be in vain.
The tickler was silent and relentless. Her manicured fingers glided over the pretty girl’s skin and smooth bathing outfit which only served to magnify the sensations.
Alyssa’s laughter echoed throughout the room but Kim appeared unaffected. All the squirming, squealing and begging made no difference to the experienced tickler.
After a while Ruth appeared and inquired with Kim if she was enjoying herself. Kim motioned Ruth away and spoke with her in hushed tones. Alyssa didn’t care, any break from the tickling was welcomed as she rested for a moment, eyes closed, suspended by her bonds.
Opening her eyes she saw Kim smiling walking toward her, smiling broadly, all ten fire-red fingernails dancing in the air as she slowly approached.
“No! Please! I’m begging you! I can’t take ahaaaahhahahahhha!”
Alyssa squealed in shock as Kim had not reached her yet but somehow she felt the unbearably ticklish gliding of fingernails along the bottoms of her feet from behind her. Then she realized: “Ruth! She’s tickling me too!”
Kim was inches away when Alyssa came to realize her position again with ten tickling fingers inching toward her tummy. When they landed her laughter skyrocketed in pitch from the touch of two skilled and merciless ticklers.
During this seemingly endless onslaught of tickling Kim found that the pretty blonde’s hips were excruciatingly sensitive. Ruth wandered from the feet up the ankles and the backs of Alyssa’s legs with her skilled fingers. Much to her delight Alyssa nearly passed out when those fingers teased her tight yet sensitive buttocks. Ruth smiled.
Alyssa had eventually passed out from the ordeal. She was unaware of what time she was carried out of her dungeon cell and placed in the plush bed blanketed in the sleep earned by hours of physical exhaustion.
The next morning Alyssa awoke to breakfast as the morning before. A servant drew a warm bath for her with soothing menthol-like bath salts that melted away the soreness and fatigue from her sore muscles. She came out of the bathroom to her room tidied up and a note on the bed to meet downstairs once she was dressed and ready. A stunning gown of sheer material with matching thigh high stockings and shoes lay neatly on the bed.
As she approached the parlor, she found three rows of chairs set out with the girls in the same predicament as she seated in them waiting in anticipation chatting quietly amongst themselves. The clients were nowhere to be seen. Ruth appeared at the front of the room and began to speak just after Alyssa and a few others were seated.
“Well ladies, I do hope you all slept well last night. Today is the final day for our weekend of fun.”
“Fun for who?” Alyssa couldn’t help but think to herself.
“Today the three top bidding clients will get the chance to tickle torture one of each of you in a one on one tickle torture session for half the time and will spend the other half helping to tickle some of those who are not part of the lucky three.
“The remainder of you will be gang tickled by multiple clients in groups. This is a situation which I assure you is much more difficult to endure and the particulars will vary from girl to girl with many of you tickled not only by clients but by one or more of the three chosen lucky ticklees among you.
“How are the three lucky girls determined? Simple, each of you will spend ten minutes interviewing with each of the three top bidders and from that interview they will each choose one. It is your job to convince them what a delicious one on one tickle you would be more than any of the others and well . . .you girls know how to wheel and deal I am sure.”
“Here is a schedule of interview times for each of you. The study, the lounge and the tea parlor will be utilized for the interviews. Those in between may remain here until you are called for by your interviewer. Oh, and by the way, if you are not one of the three, I am looking forward to tickling you too!
Interviews begin in five minutes. Good luck ladies!”
In a waiting area all of the ticklees waited until called into a room with three ladies sitting at a table, papers in front of them. They were each queried about their ticklish spots, what techniques tickled them most and why they should be chosen for a one on one tickle session with some time spent tickling instead of being tickled by multiple other ticklers.
Three women’s names were called when the interviews were done and Alyssa didn’t make the list. She was nervous. One tickler was bad enough and then Ruth tickling her along with Kim was unbearable. She wasn’t sure she could survive more than two with her sanity intact. No matter now, all that was left was getting through it.
Alyssa was escorted once again back to the basement. She was instructed to remove her dress and shoes and to lay on her back on a table well padded with remarkably soft, plush, breathable material. Her limbs were restrained taut in an almost spread-eagle fashion. The servant then turned a crank tilting the table slightly so that Alyssa’s head was up at and her feet down by about twenty degrees. At that the servant left her in her newly acquired position. The restraints were luxuriously well padded and soft. At least it was comfortable.
Five women entered the room and stood about the table. All were impeccably dressed and smiling broadly. The manicured fingernails of each stood out to Allie, likely because she knew what those fingers would soon be up to. One of the women spoke up.
“Well, Alyssa. We hear you like to gamble. We thought it only fair then to include some of your favorite things in today’s events o here’s how it’s going to go. I have in my hand a six sided die. Every ten minutes we will roll the die and whatever rolls that is the number of ticklers you will have to endure until the next roll of the die. We will each take turns rolling. If one through five we will each roll and the highest rolls will tickle while the others watch. If a six is rolled we will call in one of the three of your chosen compatriots who will join us in tickling you mercilessly knowing she will be tickled without mercy herself should she slow down even a bit. Ready to try your luck?”
Alyssa said nothing and the answer would have been ignored anyway. The woman who spoke, Alyssa surmised from the conversation that her name was Lisa, walked over to a small table set several feet away from the foot of the table where Alyssa could see the rolls of the dice occurring and hear the gambling over who would get to tickle her. The table had a raised lip around the edge to prevent the dice from falling off and from what Alyssa could tell given the torch-lit room the top of the table was lined with green felt just much like would be a casino standard.
“Three!” Lisa exclaimed.
Butterflies fluttered in Alyssa’s tummy. “It could be worse,” she thought to herself, “at least there’s only three.”
There was more dice rolling and some brief quiet conversation among the ticklers. Lisa and two others approached while the remaining two sat down in large, comfortable appearing overstuffed chairs across the room. Alyssa had jut noticed these chairs for the first time.
Grinning broadly Lisa stood to the left of the table at Alyssa’s midsection while each of the other two pulled up small wooden stools settling themselves in each in front of one of Alyssa’s bare, exposed size five feet.
“I just love when I gamble and win!,” Lisa teased and then raised her hands with clawed fingers in the air above Alyssa’s tummy. “Okay girls, ready . . . . .set . . . . .tickle!”
Three sets of hands suddenly set Alyssa squealing with electrifying tickling sensations all over her feet and tummy. The two ladies at her feet held poker-faced calmly dancing their fingers all about Alyssa’s squirming sensitive feet. Lisa was grinning almost so widely as Alyssa was as she delicately danced her hands all over the young girl’s smooth tight belly forcing out giggles and squeals and occasional pleas for mercy which the tickled girl knew by now were futile. Alyssa tried to squirm her trunk from side to side to escape her ticklers menacing fingers but her ticklish tummy was easily followed without so much as interrupting one stroke of a finger, so tight were her bonds.
The first ten minutes seemed like forever but all at once the tickling stopped and Lisa picked up the dice and handed it to another woman – the short, busty African-American woman Alyssa recognized from the day before. She rolled the dice and there were several other ladies rolling and hushed conversation once again.
The short, busty tickler with her long, manicured nails walked over behind the table and disappeared from view. A tall, slender woman appearing to be from India and wearing a traditional sari slowly walked toward Alyssa and stopped just inches in front of her, smiling broadly. Alyssa heard a noise and felt a strange sensation in the lower part of the table. A section of the table had been removed. A sudden ticklish shock with a wave of uncontrolled laughter with a sudden mask of hilarity came across her. This was apparently stimulated by the first tickler dancing her manicured fingernails all over Alyssa’s bared bottom. She squealed and squirmed but could not escape. She recalled this woman tickling Annie’s bottom and found her current predicament to be no surprise.
“I’d bet you are also ticklish somewhere else,” she heard in a distinct far eastern accent from the tickler standing before her. She raised her hands with fingers wiggling in the air slowly making their way to their destination. Alyssa could tell where she was headed. She was still reeling with laughter having her sensitive buttocks played with by a skilled tush tickler. She could only laugh hysterically, shaking her head pleading “No! No! Nohohohohahahahhahaaaa!” The fingers landed on Alyssa’s soft, pink nipples ever so gently dancing and teasing them driving her out of her mind. Alternating between Alyssa’s delicate breasts, her buttery soft armpits and petite, sensitive ribs, she squealed squirmed and begged like she never had before, but to no avail. It was the full ten minutes before she had any pause.
The afternoon continued like this with a few rolls of “5” and a couple of “1”. Each tickler seemed very eager and each seemed to fancy tickling a particular part of her sensitive anatomy. Once a “6” was rolled and the tall African-American girl she saw in yellow the day before was brought in and instructed to bend over and tickle Alyssa’s legs, thighs and, buttocks and groin area while another woman tickled her waist, ribs an exposed buttocks with the degree of her tickling intensity depending on Alyssa’s reactions. Needless to say, Alyssa got the tickling of a lifetime during this session and truly would have done anything, absolutely anything, for it to end. And eventually it did, only to be followed by another roll of the dice and another merciless tickle session and another and another.
The afternoon did pass however and Alyssa was eventually freed and escorted upstairs to freshen up in the suite where the clothes she wore on Friday were cleaned, pressed and lay neatly upon the bed waiting for her.
When she finally emerged after a long bath and getting herself dressed, Ruth greeted her with a hug and a smile. It seemed that apart from the servants, the others had left. Alyssa’s rent was paid in full and she would not have another payment due for another month. Ruth invited her to repeat this ordeal every other month in exchange for rent and would even upgrade her to a new, larger and upgraded unit. This was a completely voluntary option of course, extended to Alyssa due to the rave reviews Ruth received about her from her ticklers. Alyssa left, driving home, contemplating whether she could tolerate such a new arrangement.
