A Deal After Dark - completed original M/F story in 6 parts

[TheWindCriesMercy]

Hey all. New writer on the forum. Pleased to share my first multi-chapter story in six parts, mainly focused on belly/navel tickling and body worship, with a professional/office setting. A few (ie. several) disclaimers:

• It’s fairly florid. Basically, I write in the style that I like to read and would love to see used in fetish writing. To me, when a writer is having fun with language, there’s an undercurrent of decadence and hedonism, enhancing the action. I’m aware, however, that this isn’t to everyone’s taste when it comes to reading for gratification, but it's free to read, so I'll keep it the way I like it. Also, while there’s an early description of tickling to whet the appetite, for the most part I take a few chapters to set the scene and establish the characters. Virtually all tickling stories set in the "real world" lose me due to sheer implausibility even if they're technically sound, and I wanted to make the plot seem like something that could actually happen.
• It’s not exactly explicit, but it does describe something NSFW in a fairly indirect way in the fourth chapter. I wanted to make it accessible for sex-repulsed ace people, but obviously readers should use their own discretion.
• The story is written by a lifelong belly obsessive (me) and is related via the POV of one (the protagonist). Fair warning: there is NO FOOT TICKLING in it whatsoever, although there definitely will be in the sequel if I receive enough interest to continue the story into a series. Please do not read it if you’re only going to go “wtf, where feet, 0/10” or "meh, this would've been soooo much better if it catered to my really specific fetish" as it’s fecking long and you’ll be blue-balled beyond comprehension.
• The story features coercion of the male character and borders on non-consent … in fact, that’s kind of the point. I made it up, they’re not real people, nobody got hurt - and I’m not self-reporting any red flags of my own by writing it either. I’m not encouraging or glamourising it, so save your outrage for breaches of consent that have actually happened. Same applies to what would, in real life, obviously constitute unsafe play.
• It's set in London and written with British (and Irish) spellings and manners of speech. Nothing you won't be able to follow.
• The story mentions two female characters with different body types, with the protagonist being enamoured by both (as I would be myself). Describing even fictional women’s bodies in detail, especially in the case of the more full-figured character, felt a little bit fraught - I was mindful of the whole “she breasted boobily down the stairs” trope. I really hope that it comes across as intended and communicates the appreciation I have for lees with a little extra, and the unique pleasure it is to play with them that only they can offer.
• The power goes back and forth in this one, so if you’re easily triggered by the idea of a dominant woman, it’s probably not for you.
• As I copied and pasted it below, I remembered that the characters actually refer to the TMF and its denizens at one point, generalising it in a not-so-complimentary way 😆 Whoops, I guess!! All I can say is that, when I first discovered the scene and lurked here for a while, the TMF's membership did not make the best impression on me. I'd be happy to be proven wrong in 2025 though, although I can see that there are still a lot of grim posts being made. Yes, I know I'm here too etc. etc.

That’s all folks … enjoy if you're into the upper body thing! I'll post it chapter by chapter below...

 

[TheWindCriesMercy]

Chapter 1 - The Hacker

“Cheers bud, have a good night.”

Clutching the warm paper bag containing his dinner, David spun away from the moped rider and strode back inside the Shard with an attempted friendly grin towards the impassive security staff. By now they were used to seeing him come and go in the middle of the night. He sidled into the lift as a braying herd of revellers in formal evening dress tottered out of it into the foyer, then pressed the button for Level 29.

Hyperia Cybersecurity Solutions

It’d been a hectic three months since arriving from the Irish surfers’ haven of Sligo. Drifting in the wake of an inevitable but frustrating breakup, he’d been sought out by a recruitment company with a daunting proposition. To call it a step up the professional ladder would be underselling it - he’d gone from lone wolf “ethical hacker” to supervising a dozen-strong team of information security analysts. Somehow he’d managed to win over Hyperia’s interview panel despite a glaring lack of leadership experience.

Blessed be the disarming power of the blarney abroad. Twenty minutes of Irish chitchat and they’re falling over themselves to oblige you.

He’d been expecting the usual bunch of middle-class “tech bros” with STEM degrees and chips on their shoulders courtesy of long-term social and sexual frustration, but Phi Team’s diverse potpourri of backgrounds, ages and skill sets had been eager to impress and open to direction. Leading by example, the only way he knew how, David had (to his own amazement) honed them into a streamlined, harmonious machine that was already outperforming all of the others on the office floor.

Expertise and approachability. They know that I’ll gladly answer any question they have in thirty seconds, so they relish the opportunity to learn instead of spending hours trying to come up with clumsy workarounds to cover their arses. In a couple of years they’ll have all of the answers themselves.

For now, though, there was still a significant level of hand-holding required to keep their performance up. Most of his evenings were spent in his small corner office going through everyone’s work with a fine-toothed comb instead of at his maisonette in St John’s Wood. He’d opted for the verdant, affluent area based on the eye-watering salary that came with his new position, but he spent so little time there that he was already looking forward to moving somewhere cheaper and using it purely to wash, sleep and store his things.

The office floor was deserted, as it always was after midnight. David strode purposefully to his office, mindful of his rapidly cooling dinner, only pausing to glance at the mahogany door of the vast corner office suite.

Chief Executive Officer
Asal Elahi BA, MA (Cantab), CBE

He’d hoped to meet Asal Elahi during his application process. Five minutes at Hyperia had demonstrated how naive that notion had been. Elahi’s private army of devoted zealots kept every component of the cybersecurity powerhouse running like a Ferrari. She, meanwhile, had the board in complete thrall by virtue of sheer performance and growth, which had continued unchecked since she’d set up the enterprise in her Cambridge dorm room over two decades prior. Nowadays she was as much socialite, media personality and tech literacy advocate as company figurehead - a household name for her dress sense, her formidable demeanour, and the bestselling Persian recipe book that had followed her triumph on Celebrity Masterchef five years prior. David recalled the normally terrifying Marcus Wareing visibly quailing as his spicing suggestion was incinerated by one of Elahi’s trademark savage putdowns, a moment that reverberated around social media for weeks afterward.

Elahi’s office suite was as dark as the rest of the floor - she was the guest of honour at the entrepreneurship awards being hosted at Aqua Shard’s bar on the upper levels.

Probably in bed by now though. Definitely someone worth impressing if I get the chance, given her reputation for promoting talent.

Despite spending most of every day in the building, so far David had only seen her going between her office and the lift - apparently her social calendar meant that she wasn’t the most hands-on of bosses.

Adjoa’s draft subroutine was still open on his monitor when he sat down.

In a bit. Need to refuel.

He tipped squid balls into his bowl of teppanyaki and savoured what warmth remained in the tepid meal. As he ate, his hand wandered to his mouse, almost on autopilot. He minimised the window and slipped on his headset.

Firewalls - all good…

When it came to downtime, David had something of a default setting.

New incognito tab…

His profession, while appearing technical to the uninitiated, provided an ample canvas for the creative side of his brain and left next to no time for anything else.

Really should revisit some of the classics soon. Feels like a Trin sort of evening though…

Encyclopaedic knowledge of various shades of esoterica wasn’t uncommon among people in his line of work. Typical geeky enthusiasm and memory retention ability to spare meant working with expert connoisseurs of, say, the Loire Valley’s finest vintages…

OnlyFans - >click<

…the form and history of Japanese renga poetry…

Messages - >click<

…Frank Herbert’s Dune novels…

Trinity Spark - >click<

…the career exploits of Lionel Messi…

“The full 11 minutes of my tummy being tickled with mostly soft things in fancy blue lighting. Hope you enjoy!”

…or in David’s case, practically every fetish video ever made in which women writhed and shrieked in the throes of merciless tickle torture.

He sank into his chair’s leather embrace, a familiar soporific trance washing over him with practiced ease.

How things had reached this point was a saga and a half, but it’d begun as an all-consuming, primal fascination with the waist area, particularly women’s navels, from as far back as he could remember. He’d given up wondering why, but growing up in chilly Sligo, battered by Atlantic gales, any fleeting flash of exposed midriff had always made his brain fizz and his heart race. As he found his way online in his early teens, an odyssey beginning with swimwear and lingerie catalogues meandered through belly dancing blogs and 2000s pop star fansites, culminating with the first fetish video he’d ever seen or even been aware of. In it, a petite, curvy “captured spy” was chained to a wall while a “torturer” swirled a cotton bud in her exposed belly button, and the ticklish victim’s desperate cries for mercy fell on deaf ears.

In the moment, David understood completely how niche an appetite this must be targeting. He also knew that it was everything he’d never known he wanted until that very day, and even now he revisited the clip that began it all on a regular basis. Now thirty years old with a decade and a half of obsessive content consumption behind him, his discerning eye was still able to overlook the ancient video resolution and wooden ham-acting, as it held more meaning for him than any other piece of media ever made. Not even discovery by his parents and an evening-long shaming exercise distilled from the most potent guilt cocktail the Catholic Church could concoct had the power to quench his newfound thirst.

“Ticklish spy” Ariane from Realtickling had dominated David’s adolescent brain, her pale tummy heaving as the infernal cotton bud forced her to sing. As the years went by, other models would join an ever-growing roster of favourites. Tasha from Tickle Abuse, with her feral, deafening roars of anguish. Prya from the same studio, a statuesque, spectacularly beautiful Indian woman instantly reduced to a begging mess by a tongue lapping at one of her many weak spots. Lind from Tickled Pink, her face often flushed and tear-streaked long before a clip ended. Gabrielle from Perverstage, particularly her earliest clips where she still carried a little extra weight and her soft belly would bounce delightfully in time with her hysterical laughter...

More recently, ever since Trinity Spark had exploded onto the scene a couple of years prior, David had been a diehard fan. Tiny and slender, with electric blue hair, gorgeous light brown skin and a figure straight out of a fever dream, the feisty English kinkster’s reactions ran the whole spectrum from soft purrs and moans of pleasure to desperate screams of torment. To top it all off, her special efforts to offset the ocean of foot-focused tickle content by making clips especially for midriff maniacs like David had won his heart in an instant.

Trinity appeared clad in black underwear and bathed in blue ambient light, that divine little belly filling the frame and stretched as taut as a bowstring. Finishing the last of his noodles, David absorbed her sultry murmurs as a masked figure slowly trailed a large ostrich feather across her quivering abdomen.

“Mmm … mmhmhmhm-oh! Ohoho … aaaaah…”

He’d seen this one many times, and often returned to it when he was tired and wanted to enjoy some gentle, sensual tickling. The plume withdrew, replaced by a makeup brush scribbling all the way inside Trinity’s defenceless belly button. She gasped in shock, and her cooing melted into an unfettered, ecstatic giggle that spun a tale of utter bliss. As the brush explored every square inch of bare skin, taking care to linger on the patch of lower belly just above the elastic of her briefs, the cool blue studio lamp threw soft contours of shadow between her ribs as they rose and fell with each deep, shuddering breath. David put the empty container aside and leaned forward in his chair, anticipating the shift in gear.

Both of the man’s hands slowly lowered, paused … and in a flash all ten fingers began to tickle Trinity at once. The response was instant; that delightful laughter rising a couple of notches. Her adorable little tummy muscles were beginning to show through now, tensing up as her nerve endings sang with effervescent joy. The hands danced back … and forth … and then the mind of the tickler hatched a more specific torment. His right index finger slipped into the hollow of her navel and began to wiggle furiously in every conceivable direction…

“Ah! Ahahaha! Oho my … Gohohod! Nahahaha!”

To David, Trinity’s belly button was beyond perfect. Round, with a delicately curved upper rim, it had surprising depth - but thanks to its wide open shape, one could see all the way inside, right down to the tiniest little detail. Throw an erogenous level of ticklish sensitivity into the mix, and there was nothing he’d wish to alter. The tickler clearly thought so too, bowing his head to give it a wolfish, greedy lick, as his squirming plaything erupted in response.

“EEEEE-HEE-HEE-HA-HA-HAAA!!!”

In his stupor, David found himself daydreaming about what it might taste like.

Sweet and somehow slightly salty at the same time, perhaps?

A stiff white feather was tracing its rim now, the rasping sound of its tip against Trinity’s bare skin sending shivers coursing down David’s spine through his headset.

Like salted caramel, but with something entirely unique and opulent mixed in…

“Mr O’Driscoll?”

Trinity’s tormentor switched to the buzzing probe of an electric flosser, and her response was immediate - positively squealing in protest as it drifted along the edges of her underwear and her belly shimmied uncontrollably…

“Er … Mr O’Driscoll?!”

The steady, sleepy rhythm of David’s trance-like state was giving way now, as the poor girl’s cries made his heart pound. His breathing picked up and he craned forward, savouring every tiny twitch and yelp-

“MR O’DRISCOLL!”

Jumping a mile, David glanced up…

Asal Elahi was standing in his office doorway.

She didn’t look pleased.

 

[TheWindCriesMercy]

Chapter 2 - The CEO

Oh Christ - cover it! She mustn’t see…

Against all of his instincts, David forced himself not to burst into a panicked frenzy of guilty clicks, despite Trinity Spark still wriggling in full-screen 4K on his monitor which - thank God - was facing him and not the doorway.

“Ms Elahi! Sorry, you startled me there - I thought I was the only one on the floor.”

A casual >click< and the OnlyFans tab vanished, leaving silence in his headset. He slipped it off his ears, surreptitiously re-opening Adjoa’s script in the process.

“Clearly. Are you quite well? You seem rather out of breath…”

Her voice reminded David of a purring lynx. Surprisingly deep, yet brimming with femininity - musical, rich and very faintly accented.

“I’m fine, honestly. Just born jumpy, I guess.”

Elahi was resting a hand against the doorframe. David took in her face, still subtly made up from the award ceremony, her expression inscrutable. He knew her to be somewhere in her early forties, and the dim reflected glow of his desk lamp made her frown lines more apparent - and intimidating. Her ivory-coloured trouser suit was fastened over a black satin blouse with a surprisingly plunging neckline, while a lavish gold necklace, twin bracelets and pearl drop earrings were worn with the telltale nonchalance of one accustomed to eye-watering affluence.

Eyes on her face, you moron - this is your chance to win her over!

“I’ve been coming in after hours most nights since I arrived and haven’t seen anyone else so far - I was just going through one of my team’s subroutines-”

(David spun the monitor around on its axis to display the lines of unimpeachably innocent code)

“-when I realised you were there, you see.”

“I see.”

Totally impassive. David had been expecting praise for his dedication, but it obviously wasn’t forthcoming.

“Yeah, I’m really pleased with how my team has been doing, honestly. They’ve picked up so much in the last few months, and there’s so much more to come from them.”

In other words, thanks to me. Praising myself implicitly by praising them. Hopefully appearing generous rather than ambitious while I’m at it.

“Yes, I’ve been watching Phi Team very closely.”

Again, no “well done” or “thank you”. Still, clearly she was more hands-on than David had given her credit for.

“Anyway, it’s really good to meet you at last, so it is.”

Dial the Irish up a bit, never fails.

“I didn’t think you were around the place much, everything seems to run like clockwork by itself!”

“Not at all, it’s actually quite the balancing act. I’m usually sequestered away in my office, keeping a close eye on things. Nothing happens at Hyperia without my knowledge.”

Thank God THAT’S not true…

“Anyway, Mr O’Driscoll-“

“Oh, David - please call me David.”

“-David. I’ve been meaning to check in with you before now, but just haven’t found a quiet moment.”

“Well, people keep trying to throw more awards at you, what can you do?”

David was aware that he was pushing it in terms of jovial familiarity. Still, if Elahi wanted to knock him back down to size, she’d almost certainly rather engage with him than take the hollow victory of simply pulling rank. Still hadn’t cracked a smile though.

“Mm. Anyway, if you have a moment, would you mind stepping into my office for a chat?”

She spun on a high heel and breezed out without waiting for a reply. Caught by surprise, David sprang out of his chair and caught up with her in a few ranging strides. On even footing, he was several inches taller than his boss, even with her heels on.

Felt like she was towering over me in the doorway just now…

Opening the door bearing her name, Asal Elahi led David into a dark meeting room. He paused in the shadows, waiting for her to turn a light on before he broke anything priceless, but instead she continued inside, punched a code into a keypad, and opened a door on the opposite wall. Rays of warm lamplight spilled from within.

“Oh wow! Your inner sanctum?”

“In a manner of speaking. The soundproofing blocks out the office chatter - I’m usually in here after hours myself.”

All this time and I never realised - the outer office was always dark ... there’s something a bit unsettling about that.

Trailing in her wake, David stepped into the room within a room, still a spacious office in its own right, and took in the scene. Marbled walnut panels lined the walls. On display were certificates, awards and photographs with politicians and celebrities. Leather-bound volumes of mediaeval poetry by the Sufi mystics were juxtaposed with cutting-edge modern sculptures. A vast, deep couch of green leather faced Elahi’s bureau, which supported a sizeable computer monitor and scattered paperwork. There was a large fitted wardrobe along one wall, its door slightly ajar, and a glittering burgundy evening gown slung over the back of a nearby armchair.

Must’ve changed in here after the ceremony. Explains the suit.

On the back wall, a painted portrait of a moustached, severe Middle Eastern man in his fifties cast a shadow over the room.

“Relative of yours?”

“My father.”

“Ah, that’s nice.”

“Not really. He would’ve stopped me from going to university if not for my mother going to war with him on my behalf. Ordered me to return to Tehran immediately after graduation to play the dutiful daughter, facilitate what passed for his life.”

She stalked behind her desk to face David, never glancing up at the portrait. He studied her face a little more in the warm light. Wine-coloured lipstick and a gentle smoky eye accentuated her dusky complexion. Thick and wavy black hair, perfectly styled and shining like polished jet, brushed the tops of her shoulders.

She’s probably wearing a fortune, but to be fair she’d look great in anything. Genetic lottery was kind to her, that’s for sure.

“Being able to create something with legs before leaving Cambridge meant that I could stay here indefinitely. There were challenges of course - investment, personnel, not least obtaining British citizenship - but nothing insurmountable. He’s up there as a reminder of what I managed to avoid.”

“Hence ‘Hyperia’ - the river god’s daughter who crafted wings of steel to escape her father’s island and fly to freedom.”

“A classics buff. Well, well…”

Not really, but I did Google everything about the company before my interview, including its name. Finally a bit of a breakthrough! Tough nut to crack.

“Have a seat, David.”

Relaxing into the couch’s emerald leather, David glanced up at Elahi, who remained standing.

Right, time to go for it.

“I hope you’ve been happy with how things have been going so far? We seem to be exceeding all expectations-”

“As I said, I’ve been monitoring Phi Team closely. What I wanted to ask you about, however, was this…”

Slowly, David’s boss spun her own monitor through a half turn, and his guts turned to ice.

Trinity Spark’s scantily-clad body was writhing on the CEO’s screen.

 

[TheWindCriesMercy]

Chapter 3 - The Trap

It was the same clip he’d been watching earlier. No sound was playing, but from the way his favourite model was thrashing up a storm as a wiggling finger invaded her navel, nobody could mistake it for anything other than what it was. Red text overlaid the bottom right corner:

C-054
O’Driscoll, D
Sat 01/02/25
00:26:47

Fuck, fuck, FUCK!!!

Thunderstruck, David forced himself to meet the gaze of his boss, who was coolly surveying him like a hawk.

“Well?”

Gaping like a goldfish, he struggled to make a sound.

Say something!

“This … this is a screen recording.”

It was all that he could articulate. Breathing fast and hard, he tried to suppress a rising tide of nausea.

“And?”

“Well … how?”

“How, when you were so careful with your firewall, you mean? Backdoor in the network - installed it myself back in the early days. I can remotely view any of the computers on this floor in seconds. However good you think you are, David - and I know you think you’re the slickest network jock going - remember that I know a thing or two about cybersecurity myself.”

Come on, think!

“That’s employee surveillance without consent. I’m not even sure that’s legal-”

“Don’t even try to claw at the high ground, David!”

Asal Elahi’s dark eyes flashed with cold fury as she cast her mask of serenity to the ground.

“You were watching fetish porn on my company’s computer, on my company’s premises. You don’t have a leg to stand on. I’m the last person you wanted to know about your little night-time habit because I don’t even need to use the recording. My word alone will convince every tech employer I know - and of course, oops! That’s all of them - that you were doing exactly what you were doing and shouldn’t be given a job fetching coffee! Don’t you dare have the affront to point fingers at me.”

Quailing, David could feel his backside clenching tighter with every word. Elahi hadn’t raised her voice at all, opting for venom over volume.

“How many times have you watched this smut in my office space?”

“I…”

Wait, wait, wait. It’s a trap. If she’s been in here most of these nights, she almost certainly knows already.

“…it’s not the first time.”

“Quite so. Seems to be your favourite pastime, in fact.”

Elahi minimised the window to reveal dozens of thumbnails in a folder. All screen recordings, all with dates.

God above. I’m beyond fucked…

“Why?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why tickling, specifically? Why the … upper body focus in particular?”

David felt his face burn. Being caught was horrific. Having his obscure kinks dissected in minute detail would be a new level of mortification. He whispered to the floor.

“That’s my business … it’s private.”

“Then you should’ve kept your private activities out of my place of business.”

Elahi breezed back in front of the desk and hoisted herself backwards to perch on the nearest corner, peering condescendingly down at David with her ankles crossed.

“David, do try to keep up. Your career is forfeit - entirely in my hands, and if you want to get out of this mess with any professional credibility whatsoever, you’ll answer my very simple questions.”

Right, try to calm down. Deep breaths. She just hinted at some kind of less-than-catastrophic outcome. Why not just fire me and get it over with - why string this out? Not simply to embarrass me - she’s been quietly watching over my shoulder and biding her time for weeks. Plus the offhand way that she said “upper body focus” - at the very least, she’s done enough research to pick up some of the lingo. Carefully now…

“The … stomach thing … that’s been with me since I was very small, I don’t know what started it. There was a local doctor who often came to our house in a traditional Indian sari to examine me when I was a toddler, I have really vivid early memories of her. I don’t know if there was anything from further back though.”

“And the tickling?”

This felt like the grilling he’d been given by his parents after being betrayed by Internet Explorer, leading him to become an encyclopaedia of online security … for all that was now worth. It certainly hadn’t stopped Asal Elahi from crucifying him tonight.

“Well, I knew I had this powerful fixation, but I didn’t know what I actually wanted to do about it, if that makes sense. I was just exploring online at an impressionable age, saw a video that stayed with me, and … yeah.”

Elahi leaned back to her mouse and returned the original video to full-screen mode. David kept his eyes glued to the corner of the nearest patterned rug.

“Trinity Spark … she’s a favourite of yours, isn’t she? Bit of a muse, even?”

Were it not for the gravity of the situation, David might have interpreted her light tone as edging on playful rather than mocking. He stayed silent.

“Well? What is it about young Trinity that appeals to you so strongly?”

“I … I just think she’s beautiful-”

“She’s a model - it’d be odd if she weren’t. What else? Answer me.”

Fuck it, might as well tell her at this point…

“Trust me, if you had my eye for navels, you’d know how special hers is. And she’s unusual in that she doesn’t just farm the horde of foot maniacs for clicks and subs and ignore everyone else. Above all, though, her content is made in the right spirit.”

“Explain.”

“She’s one of us. People in the various online communities have known her as a bona fide tickle maniac for years, going way back before she began modelling. She’s as obsessed with it as anyone, adores every second, particularly when her stomach is the focus … as much as she might beg for it to stop while it’s actually happening. I’d much rather watch one of the tribe being worked over knowing it was what she wanted than some random glamour model who probably hates it or finds it disgusting but is desperate for the cash.”

“Ethical porn. What an altruist you are, David.”

“Actually, I don’t think you understand.”

It was David’s turn to be irked by Elahi’s sarcasm, and years of frustration came pouring out of him.

“People who love … this sort of thing … basically, we know how niche it is. Some of us have never told a romantic partner. Many have, only to be shot down in disgust or … well, badly concealed disgust. Even the rare person whose partner actually tries it for their sake can never shake off the worry that their partner, while not wanting to give up on the rest of the relationship, secretly despises this part of them and is suffering through something that gives them the creeps just to keep them satisfied. People don’t want to be responsible for a loved one feeling that way, but also … well come on, nobody likes to feel as through they’re being indulged or patronised, do they? Pitied, even condemned.”

He took a deep breath and tried to steady the growing waver in his voice.

“With someone like Trinity, at least you know she’s not looking down on her audience while just going through the motions because she’s one of us, she knows that world and understands that craving. Does that make any kind of sense?”

A brief pause. David’s most secret feelings, feelings he’d never spoken aloud before, hung in the silence like a prayer.

“Yes, actually. More than you might guess.”

Glancing up, David found no trace of disgust on Asal Elahi’s face. She studied him with a relaxed, searching gaze.

“And what about you? Have you ever told a partner?”

“Once.”

He still didn’t know what Elahi’s game was, and was half-expecting her to slam the trapdoor shut on his fingers at any second, but for now she seemed to be trying to understand, so it made sense to open up and humanise himself as much as possible.

“When I was headhunted for Hyperia, I’d just gotten out of a long-term thing. Several years. I’d occasionally tried to initiate it in a non-contrived, playful way, but she never responded. Eventually I went for broke and told her I liked it in … that way … and all she said was ‘I know’. Didn’t even look at me. We never discussed it again, and ended up separating about a year later.”

“Can’t have been easy.”

“Well, it definitely felt like I’d wasted my twenties, I’ll say that.”

“You never thought of trying to find someone with similar tastes?”

David let out a mirthless laugh.

“Never been to Sligo, have you? Not exactly the centre of the kinky universe.”

“In case you hadn’t noticed, you just moved to one of the world’s major cities.”

“True, but I don’t know where to find the local community, if it even exists. I haven’t noticed any women from London on the hellscape that is the TMF - oh, that’s short for the Tickling Media Forum-”

Elahi cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand and a scowl.

“I know what the TMF is.”

It was as if she’d told David that she could hurl grenades into people’s dreams.

“You … know what the-“

“Yes. But what you ought to be asking me is whether you still have a job.”

Did she actually Google the fetish and find her own way there? Why the hell would she research it this deeply - FOCUS, you idiot! She’s on the verge of sacking you!

“You don’t need me to tell you that your evening activities here justify your immediate termination. On the other hand, I can’t deny that I’ve been very, very impressed by what I’ve seen so far from you professionally, not to mention Phi Team’s upswing in performance.”

She slid to the ground, leaning back against the edge of the bureau.

“What I should do is kick you out onto the street tonight and have the recruiters begin looking for a new Information Security Manager in the morning, but … the prospect wearies me. Since you also seem to have a bit more going on upstairs than the average TMF mouth-breather…”

Again - how the blessed FUCK does she know about the TMF?!

“…I’m prepared to overlook tonight’s indiscretion on one condition. You do something for me in return.”

Her hands undid her suit jacket and spread it wide, and if David hadn’t been sitting down already, his legs might have given way.

The low-cut “blouse” under Asal Elahi’s suit hadn’t been a blouse at all. The top was, in fact, cropped - little more than a bra. Below it, her midriff - entirely bare down to the waistband of her pants, which rested on her hips about an inch below her…

… her … fuck me dead-!

“All your life, you never thought you’d actually be able to satisfy these secret cravings one day. Well … now’s your chance. Do your thing.”

 

[TheWindCriesMercy]

Chapter 4 - The Ecstasy

She’s planned this all along. Waited patiently until she had enough evidence to nail me, enticed me into her territory, put me on the back foot, and now she has me where she’s wanted me from the start. She must’ve come down and changed into … into THAT … after the awards show wrapped up.

“You…”

David swallowed, trying to banish the croak in his voice.

“You’ve set me up.”

“Obviously. Being me has its perks, but the main drawback is that I can’t meet with nearby kinksters in case some little parasite decides to out me via one of the tabloid rags - or hold my reputation to ransom. Believe it or not, I have esoteric tastes too, and based on your viewing history and what you’ve told me tonight, they align very conveniently with yours. Well … what are you waiting for, a traffic light?”

As the situation began to make a modicum of plausible sense, the shock began to wear off and David started to process the vision before him. Asal Elahi held her jacket wide open with both hands. The golden, dappled light from the lampshades bathed her waist in its warm glow, weaving dusky shadows around her curves. Maturity and a rich diet were beginning to gain ground against her naturally petite figure, evidenced by minor love handles around the hips and a gently rounded, soft belly that pushed ever so slightly against the waistband of her trousers. What had instantly short-circuited David’s brain, though, was everything about the immaculate navel which was staring him brazenly in the face. A large, slightly flattened oval with a pronounced upper rim, its base lay veiled in shadow despite its round, wide opening. His boss wore it like a precious jewel, and in that moment it seemed to be not only the focal point of her body, but of the office and the entire universe, exerting a fifth fundamental force to pull all of creation inexorably towards its mysterious depths…

Get a fucking grip! What’s more likely, you and the head of the entire firm just HAPPENING to be fetish twins, or her trying to drag you even further under her thumb?

“I can’t think of a diplomatic way to ask this … how do I know that you don’t have a hidden camera somewhere in here? How do I know you won’t blackmail me with the footage afterwards?”

“David, that three-pound lump of grey matter suspended between your ears - it’s called a brain. Use it. In what reality would a recording of the two of us be less embarrassing or damaging to me than to you? In what reality do I not have more than enough evidence with which to blackmail you already?”

Elahi gestured back to her monitor, where the incriminating screen recording had mercifully finished playing. Parking both hands on her flared hips, she gave a sigh of exasperation.

“You have two very simple choices. You can be escorted from the building in shame and disgrace by security, reputation ruined and career down the drain. Or you can slide back into my good graces while fulfilling a lifelong fantasy. Just so you know, there is a correct answer to this conundrum and it’s not a difficult one - unless you don’t like my tummy?”

She tilted her head to one side and coyly raised her eyebrows. This sudden pivot from ruthlessly dangling David’s life over a precipice to coquettishly fishing for compliments caught him completely off guard. Her odd choice of the almost childish word “tummy” was infuriatingly disarming, while the sound and shape of it in her mouth, imbued with her subtle accent, made his head swim.

“Trust me, that’s the last … I mean no-YES, I mean … it’s gorgeous … you’re gorgeous.”

For the first time, Asal Elahi actually smiled … sort of. The skewed twist of her mouth projected conceit and cool dominance, but her eyes gave her away.

Oh my God, she’s actually relieved! That was the only variable in her plan that she couldn’t control, the one thing she couldn’t guarantee. She needn’t have worried.

“Well then. Get over here.”

Willing his limbs out of shock-induced paralysis, David pried himself out of the couch and sank to his knees, his face inches from the expanse of honey-coloured skin. Every fetish video he’d ever seen flashed through his mind as he considered the possibilities, hesitating, still not daring to believe the circumstances. Elahi rolled her eyes.

“David, don’t just stare at it-”

-she grabbed the back of his head with both hands-

“-eat it!”

“Mmmph!!”

Forcefully, she thrust his face forward, burying it in the centre of her stomach and holding it there. Off-balance and swaying on his knees, his hands flailed out for support and ended up grabbing onto both of her hips, fingertips digging into the soft flesh. A hiss escaped his boss’ lips, and he suddenly registered her pulse pounding powerfully against his forehead.

She’s nervous as well. She’s taking a big physical risk here, if not a professional one. If this is real - if we’re actually doing this…

David began to knead her sides gently, sliding his thumbs from hips to lower ribcage, over and over. Taking a breath from the side of his mouth, he began to kiss. Chaste pecks melted away into hungry, open-mouthed body worship almost instantly. Her skin was petal-soft; from the first caress it was obvious that she must hydrate religiously. She smelled and tasted of pure opulence - sandalwood and honey, mingling with very faint hints of jasmine and rosewater emanating from somewhere around her navel as though she’d anointed it with a drop of some heavenly formula.

Clearly she’s thought of every tiny detail...

Above him, Elahi let out the kind of sigh a marathon runner makes when they take that first divine drink after crossing the finish line. David felt her wrists and hands relax, winding his hair around her fingers as she massaged his scalp, luxuriating in his ministrations. She began to sway slowly and seductively from side to side, and he lowered both hands, trailing his index fingertips along her waistband. Reflexively, she grabbed a couple of belt loops and yanked the pants down as far as they would go, another inch and a half, releasing the impossibly soft swell of her lower belly. David drew back for a second to take in the sight, then lunged forth, sucking in mouthfuls of her flesh and biting softly as he traversed her curves.

Asal Elahi cried out in surprise and not a little indignation, and David grabbed her hips again to stop her from recoiling. Deep moans and growls rewarded him as he continued to devour her heaving, naked abdomen. When he reached the centre, he began to swirl his tongue in circles just above her pubic area, changing direction at random, this way and that. She was trembling under his hands now, and sneaking a glance upwards, David was amazed by what he saw.

Both of her hands were gripping the desk behind her like a vice. Her head was tipped back, eyes tightly closed, and she was whispering inaudibly to herself through clenched, gritted teeth as though trying to withstand some terrible ordeal. David unleashed a swift upward lick ending just shy of her navel, and watched in astonishment as his hitherto indomitable boss actually squealed, a great convulsive shudder wracking her entire top half.

Oh my God - she’s MURDEROUSLY ticklish! Going to have to hold off on that though - can’t wait any longer…

Straightening a little, David kissed his way north. Slowly, carefully, his tongue began to orbit Eden, Avalon, Elysium, Shangri-La … the hidden treasure, the wonder of wonders that was Asal Elahi’s deep, sensual belly button. Pushing his willpower to its limit, he swirled incrementally closer until he was riding the rim, breathing in time with her trembling gasps - then broke off to kiss above, below, either side.

“Ahh-hh-hh! S-stop t-t-teasing…”

Smiling to himself, pleased to have wound her up, he drew a deep breath and took the plunge, savouring the inner walls, spiralling deeper and deeper. A fusillade of gasps, wails and insincere protestations rained down on him from above.

“Ahhh! Y-you … you-oh! Ohoho noooo … you can’t … h-how dare y-eeeek! Nnnngh, it’s too much - it’s too … aaaaagh!”

Rubbish. She orchestrated a bloody Machiavellian plot to make this happen. Interesting that she wants to pretend it’s “against her will” though…

So far, David hadn’t detected any creases or details. The walls of Elahi’s navel were smoother than satin, tasting sweeter than the rest of her tummy with a slightly salty edge, just the way he’d imagined Trinity Spark’s. He delved deeper, trying to find its base.

Christ, it’s deep - even for someone curvy. I’m going to run out of … ah!

A full inch inside, he sensed a firmer area just at the tip of his tongue. He paused, waiting for quiet … then rolled it upwards, raking over a series of folds and bumps-

“AI-EEE-EEE-EEE!!!”

Asal Elahi screamed at the top of her lungs as her belly button’s hyper-sensitive knot was licked like a lollipop. An explosive, uncharacteristically high-pitched howl of sensory overload, the sound froze David in his tracks. He jerked back, accidentally pulling her with him as she reeled on unsteady legs. They clung to each other for a second, and he could feel her shaking.

“Are you alright?! Was that too much? I don’t know what y-”

“H-hey … hey.”

She tilted his face upwards. Hers was flushed and beginning to shine a little with sweat, but otherwise fairly composed despite her gasping for breath.

“It’s OK … you’re f-fine … I like it, OK? I … I love it…”

She spoke to him reassuringly now, almost tenderly.

“I’m liable to say pretty much anything if you go in … in there … just relax and enjoy yourself. I’ll be enjoying it too, I promise.”

Cupping both of his cheeks, she leant down and grinned playfully at him, widening her eyes.

“Just don’t stop again or I’ll have you thrown into the bloody Thames with a concrete buoyancy aid.”

“Er … right. Ms Elahi, how would you feel about using the couch?”

For answer, she slipped out of her jacket, draping it over the desk. Stepping out of her high heels, she sat down and swung her small bare feet up onto the green leather. Her trousers were beginning to constrict, and to David’s wonder, she unhooked the fastening and lowered the zip, spreading it open to reveal lacy black underwear.

“Mm, better. And David … Asal.”

“S-sorry?”

“My given name is Asal. Given this meeting’s somewhat casual dress code, I think we can waive the formalities for now, wouldn’t you say?”

He laughed, relaxing more by the second. She smiled and reclined backwards, beckoning him with a finger.

“Come here. Don’t you dare stop this time.”

David slipped his own shoes off and hopped up on all fours. Parting Asal’s knees, he was amused to see her screw her eyes shut and clench her jaw in anticipation as he lowered his head. Her stomach appeared flatter in this position, the navel more circular than oval. Wasting no time, he dove inside, swirling his tongue against the hidden nerve cluster. As before, Asal erupted into a loud shriek at the initial contact, making his ears ring, before unleashing a torrent of frantic pleas and piteous cries as she squirmed from side to side.

“EEEEEK!! No, you ca-aaaah! Ohhh, not my belly button! Grnnnngh! Stop, I-eeeee, I f-forbid you! Owoooo! N-nobody touches my belly button! Ohoho noooo, my belly button’s too s-s-sensitive, pleheheeease! Noooohoho! How dare you torture me like-WAAAA! Oooooh … oh … oh … eee-yaaaah! Alright - alrihihight! Anything else, I’m begging you, do whatever you want, just stop licking my belly button! AIEEEEE!!”

Sweet Jesus … it’s a trigger for her too!

Her repetition of “belly button” was unmistakably deliberate. In David’s case, hearing a fetish model explicitly cry out that her belly button was sensitive or beg someone to stop tickling her belly button made him bookmark the relevant clip every time. Acknowledging what was happening in such a specific way always heightened the reality of the situation for him somehow - yes, the woman really was having her belly button played with - and drove him absolutely feral. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one…

As he pushed harder, David’s rasping tastebuds pried open the deepest crevices of the divine knot, exploring every square nanometre. Dormant nerve endings that had never known stimulation were made to sizzle like water droplets on a red-hot frying pan. Asal’s monologue petered out into a high, continuous wail, broken only by her gasps for breath. She arched uncontrollably upwards towards the source of her pleasure, beginning to roll her hips in a steady rhythm.

Should I? May as well - I am trying to save my damned job, after all…

Shifting some weight away from his elbows, David lowered his chest between his boss’ legs. She wrapped them around his back with the speed of a mantis, rubbing herself against his sternum as his hands massaged her lower belly and grazed along the edges of her knickers, his questing tongue picking up speed. After a minute, she trailed off into breathless silence and began to tremble violently all over. David gave it his all as her hips bucked faster and harder…

A cataclysmic tremor ripped through Asal Elahi from head to toe and back again as she screamed her climax to the heavens. As the seconds stretched into double digits, David swore that he could hear the legs of the couch juddering against the floor. Finally, Asal’s arched back crashed down against the couch and she lay there open-mouthed, chest heaving, as David rubbed her belly in wide, slow circles with an open palm, kissing it gently, delighting in its full, exquisite softness as she came back down to earth. He let a few minutes pass in silence before speaking up.

“Hey. You OK?”

She stirred, smiled and half-opened her eyes, still blissed-out and far away.

“Mmm. Dreamy. But we both know that’s not all you want to do with my tummy.”

Surely she can’t mean-?!

She propped herself up onto her elbows, suddenly fired-up, challenging David with a gaze that smouldered with defiance and red-hot, still-unfulfilled cravings.

“Come on! You’ve seen it done a thousand times. Tickle me! Break me, absolutely ruin me. Do a good job and I might even let you hold onto yours…”

 

[TheWindCriesMercy]

Chapter 5 - The Agony

David could scarcely believe his senses. Body worship was one thing, being ordered to tickle his boss felt too surreal to make sense. He clenched his eyes shut, gave his head a sharp shake, and reopened them. Asal Elahi was still there - recumbent, bare-bellied, utterly inexorable in her expectation. Faltering, David dropped his head as his breathing began to quicken…

“Hey! Look at me.”

He did as he was commanded.

“Don’t think about it - just do it. There’s nothing to think about here. Do it. Now!”

Everything about this feels like the springing of a trap, even if she IS genuinely a raging fetishist, but what could be worse than what she’s threatening to do to my prospects? And she’s right…

David surveyed the soft amber flesh just inches away, which had begun to fold into gentle rolls as she’d leaned forward.

…I HAVE seen it done a thousand times, which means that I know a thousand ways to annihilate her…

She sighed, patience wearing thin.

“Am I to assume, David, that you have no wish to continue your car-EEEEE-HEE-HEE-HEEEE!!”

…starting by catching her completely off guard!

David’s hands, until now lying idle at Asal’s sides, had each grabbed a handful and begun to knead the flesh quickly and firmly, fingers and thumbs stimulating buried nerves to unleash a storm of deep muscle tickles and wring a surprisingly juvenile squeal from the fearsome tech titan. Her lower half was pinned to the couch by his bodyweight, but her arms immediately flew into action. Torn between pushing him back and seizing his weapons, she didn’t quite manage to accomplish either while random spasms jerked her this way and that. For all of her panicked flailing, she couldn’t do a thing to prevent David from squeezing and prodding her flanks - and oh, what a spectacle she made!

He’d expected Asal to recover some measure of self-control after his opening sneak attack, but her intensity didn’t drop one iota. With complete abandon, she threw her head back in unbridled, open-mouthed laughter.

“WAAA-ha-ha-ha-haaa! NOOO-ho-ho-ho-hooo!”

Oh my days … she’s fucking spectacular! Now … vary the target and technique. Play with her expectations - don’t let her acclimatise!

David stiffened his fingers and began to drum their tips against his boss’ ribs as fast as possible, shifting his hands around at random. Almost immediately, Asal’s hysterics took on an air of pure panic.

“Wait, Dav-ahahaha! Wahahait! WA-HA-HA-HAIT!! STOP ihihihit! You cahahahan’t - I CAN’T STA-HA-HA-HAND THAT!! It tickles - IT TI-HI-HI-HICKLES!! AIEEEEE!!!”

A full-throated scream. Her lower ribcage was clearly a goldmine, and David managed to mine it for several minutes - despite the allure of the vulnerable, gorgeous belly writhing and heaving a hand’s breadth from his face and the fight its demented owner was putting up all the while.

Eventually he decided that he’d had enough of dodging her swipes at his head and shoulders, however ineffectual, and seized both of her wrists mid-swing, gripping both of them in his left hand. Rising to kneel between her legs, he allowed himself to fall forward and downward, pinning her hands to the arm of the couch above her head. As soon as his victim’s eyes opened, he began to wiggle his fingers slowly above her face, like a great spider dangling from a web, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

For once, words failed Asal Elahi. Her eyes, full of trepidation, remained glued to the aerial ballet of David’s fingers as she took great gasps of air and shrank away as he began to move his hand from side to side.

It’s tempting to take the piss out of her, wind her up - but for all I know she’ll find it cringey and it’ll just turn her off. Better just stick with what’s already working…

With cobra-like speed, he plunged all five fingers into the smooth hollow of Asal’s left underarm, scribbling lightly but furiously, and she exploded into manic desperation yet again. With her wrists pinned overhead, the warm, damp, extra-sensitive skin was stretched taut as David ravaged it over and over again, drunk on her cries. Without warning, she turned her head and snapped at him wildly - pulling back just in time, he felt her teeth graze his hand as they came together with a clack.

Right, that does it!

Sliding easily down the polished leather until his face drew level with his boss’ shimmering, golden abdomen once more, David seized the lower half of it with both hands, underneath the navel where it was softest and fullest. Every single finger and thumb burst into life, lightly pinching the captive roll of flesh over and over again at breakneck speed-

“YAAAAAGH!! EEEEEK!! NOOO-HO-HO-HO! FUCK YOU-HOO-HOO! WAHAHAHA!! GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF MY BODY! AAAAAA-HAHAHA!!”

She does swear after all…

Asal’s hands, free once more, were trying to fend him off again - but her small frame, pummelled by agony, rapture and arousal as her brain foundered in a fizzing ocean of neurochemicals, simply couldn’t summon a coherent defence. As David changed tactic and began to skitter ever-so-softly underneath the gentle swell of her belly, just above the hemline of her underwear, her livid screams segued into a torrent of higher-octave, frantic giggles.

“Stop ihihihit! Eee-hee-hee-hee-hee!! Ahahahaha!! I’ll fucking kihihihill you, I swear to Gohohod-yeeeehehe!! How dare you do this to mehehehehe?! You’re dead! You’re fucking dehehehead, you bastard!! Ohohoho!”

David was barely paying attention. All he could focus on was the CEO’s bare midriff filling his entire field of view, rolling as she fought for breath, fluttering uncontrollably as her nerve endings lit up, twisting this way and that as she desperately tried to escape … while that sublime belly button contorted itself into every possible shape, each more irresistible than the last.

She’s practically giving me a private belly dance. Time to make her shimmy!

Levering himself up to ensnare Asal’s wrists and pass both of them to his left hand again, David pinned them tightly against her sternum this time. His right hand formed a rigid claw, taunting her in mid-air for a few seconds as she shook her head wordlessly in terror, before burying itself deep in her defenceless belly to vibrate back and forth, firmly, awakening the abdominal muscles hiding under her adorable handful of squish.

Asal answered this fresh outrage with a deafening yell like canvas going through a shredder. A rougher sound than before, it dissolved into filthy cackles interspersed with more howls of ticklish misery - not to mention apoplectic, disbelieving fury at her soft tummy being forced to wobble like jelly for the amusement of her subordinate. David bared his teeth in a predator’s grin, savouring her futile rage just as much as the sight and feel of her quivering belly as he drilled her abs without pause or pity. Eventually she managed to choke out an intelligible sentence…

“AAAAAAH!! STOHOHOP, PLEEEEEEASE! WAAA-HA-HA-HAAA!! OHHH, DOHOHON’T MAKE ME JIHIHIGGLE!!”

David thought he heard her voice catch as if tripped up by a faint sob, and felt a pang of guilt.

Ach … genuinely wasn’t trying to embarrass her. Maybe she’s a bit more self-conscious than she lets on.

Releasing her hands, he gave Asal’s trembling tummy a tender squeeze and began to smooch his way reverently down her left side as her laughter melted away. He paused to nibble the slight love handle before following it inwards, bathing his face in the ripe wholeness of her curves as she cooed and sighed with twenty-four-carat relief. Massaging her sides gently, he swirled his tongue around the wide rim of her belly button once, twice and thrice before slowly pushing it inside, riding the shudder that rippled through Asal’s torso as she let forth a deep moan. Utterly overwhelmed by the reprise of this sensory zenith coupled with afterglow tingles that made her entire body sing with effervescence, she didn’t notice David’s eyes trained on her like those of a raptor, observing every minute twitch as she began to settle and he took a deep breath…

Almost … almost … she thinks it’s over … yep, she actually believes it - NOW!

Shoving his mouth against his boss’ helpless stomach, he let loose the longest, most powerful raspberry he could summon.

“AIEEEEE-EEEEE-EEEEE!!!”

Before Asal’s shriek of horror had even ended, David had sprung into action, both hands seeking out her hipbones. Dancing fingers teased them and the hypersensitive hollows they guarded, igniting both femoral nerves. Meanwhile, a salvo of devastating raspberries laid waste to every square inch of her suffering belly, with David unleashing them as fast as he could draw breath, shaking his head vigorously from side to side so that his nose added another layer of tickles. Undulating ripples raced across her skin and coruscated down through her core, while every blast from his lips wrung a fresh roar of anguished mirth from hers as she tried, hopelessly, to shape them into a plea for mercy.

It would’ve been beyond pointless. Intoxicated with power and still smarting from the humiliation of his boss’ earlier inquisition, David’s ego had allowed his inner revenge fantasist to take the wheel. Roughly, he shoved his index finger deep inside her belly button, slick with sweat and saliva, until he felt resistance from the knot at the base - then began to wiggle it with purpose, mercilessly torturing Asal Elahi’s top-secret, ultra-ticklish neural nexus. Sensations the like of which she’d never dared to imagine, even in her most disturbingly masochistic tickle dreams, tore her to shreds as though David had rammed a live mains cable into her navel. A cocktail of adrenaline and serotonin kaleidoscoped its way into her brain, saturating it with blind panic and ecstasy all at once, while she thrashed and howled piteously like a stricken animal. David shrugged off her caterwauling as easily as the feeble blows pelting his back and shoulders…

Set me up with your little scheme, would you? Dangle your axe over my neck? Enjoy the sight of me squirming with embarrassment - well, who’s squirming now?!

“YAAAAAGH!! AAAA-HA-HA-HAAA!!!”

Come at me like I’m some kind of sick perv while getting off to the exact same thing yourself? Bloody hypocrite - eat this!

His other nine fingers poked and prodded her stomach with the speed of a court stenographer…

“WAHAHAHAHAAA!! NO! NOOOOO!!”

Thought you’d blackmail me into becoming your secret little fetish slave, didn’t you? Took on a bit more than you could handle, didn’t you?

“PLEEEE-HEE-HEASE, NOT THE BELLY BUTTON!! OWOOOOO!!”

Messed with the wrong guy … you asked for this, now you’re gonna fucking TAKE IT!

David’s mouth rejoined the fray, licking, sucking, biting, razzing, as his fingertips continued to propel the CEO towards clinical insanity. Online, he was untouchable, a law unto himself - he could break into government and military networks if he wished - but never in his life had he tasted power like this. On and on he went, until he became aware of Asal’s laughter turning silent, punctuated by her gasps for air and the occasional truncated scream managing to break through the quaking rictus of her torment.

Maybe it’s time to dial things back a bit…

Vaguely remembering her shoes coming off, David wondered if her feet were as ticklish as the rest of her. He sprang up onto his haunches, grabbing her right ankle and raising it off the couch, but just as he homed in on the pads of her small toes, he caught sight of her face for the first time in several minutes.

Hyperia’s formidable figurehead, the diminutive tech tycoon who could intimidate anyone with a mere glance, was, to put it mildly, a shattered wreck. Her face was a flushed mask of tears and makeup, her mascara and lipstick a smudged mess, her jaw hanging open in a silent wail. “Dishevelled” didn’t begin to cover the state of her once-sleek hair, and her chest heaved as she let out a great sob…

Oh fuck, she’s actually crying!

Shocked by the sight, David hesitated…

Asal Elahi’s bare foot flew backwards, wrenching itself free of his grasp, before slamming into the centre of his chest like a piston. The sheer force of the kick sent him spinning into a backward roll over the arm of the couch, crashing onto a brass side table and down onto the floor, winded and gasping. A few yards away, Asal slowly slid off the couch herself, collapsing in a tangle of limbs, sweat and tears. Poleaxed and panting, each of them lay motionless on the office floor, scarcely able to believe what had just transpired…

 

[TheWindCriesMercy]

Chapter 6 - The Aftermath

David was the first to rise. Wincing and clutching his chest where Asal had kicked him, he clambered to his feet and started towards the trembling heap that was his boss.

“Ms Elahi? Asal? Are you-”

Suddenly panicking, she tried to flee his approach - but her legs, still jelly-like, only permitted her to scramble a short distance on all fours before her open trousers wrapped around her knees and forced her to stumble to a halt. David raised his hands and stepped backwards, trying to appear as benign as possible.

“It’s OK! You’re OK! I’m not going to do anything, I promise - it’s over, alright? Done. Finished.”

Hanging her head, the tangle of black hair hiding her face, she feebly raised a hand towards him in an ambiguous gesture that could have indicated a threat, supplication or submission. Playing it safe, David hung back.

“Can I … can I get you anything?”

“Water,” she whispered.

Casting around, he spotted a full pitcher and glasses on a corner shelf. He quickly poured some and, kneeling, set it within her reach. She drained it in one.

“More…”

After knocking back a refill, she stood, somewhat shakily, holding the corner of her desk for support, and sat with a sigh on the couch where she’d been writhing in anguished horror moments before, her eyes closed and her head tipped back. David, meanwhile, couldn’t hold himself together any longer.

“I’m sorry - you told me to do it-”

“I know.”

“You warned me not to stop, you said to break you-”

“I know. Relax, OK? Take a breath. You’re not in trouble.”

She opened her eyes.

“Come, sit with me. Rest your hand here.”

She patted her stomach, which had flushed rosy pink following its ordeal. David sat next to her, somewhat tentatively, and reached across to cup the warmth of her lower belly, using his thumb to caress the rim of her navel which was squashed horizontally due to her seated posture. She leaned sideways against him and he instinctively placed his left arm around her shoulders. A minute passed before Asal spoke up.

“Sorry about the karate kick. Are you hurt?”

“Nah. Didn’t catch me anywhere delicate. Are you OK?! I didn’t fully realise the state you were in until I sat up at the end there…”

“I’ll be fine. Things got away from both of us towards the end. It’s my fault - I wanted to keep things as organic as possible to immerse myself in a long-held fantasy, but there were too many variables and risks. Especially since we’d never played together, and hadn’t even done a BDSM negotiation.”

“Long-held fantasy?”

“Specifically, an employee overpowering and tickling me in my own office after dark. When I saw what you were watching practically every night, especially the fact that we clearly share a preoccupation with tummies in general and navels in particular, I figured it was now or never - as long as you seemed as though you had a brain and a conscience.”

“You mentioned a BDSM negotiation?”

“I really should’ve given more thought to the fact that you hadn’t done anything for real before. Restraints that keep both of us safe. Safewords in case there’s suddenly a problem. Pre-agreed boundaries in terms of clothing, no-go areas, actions, verbal teasing, not to mention aftercare arrangements. Advance planning and safety, basically. Speaking of verbals, I’d imagined you being a lot more talkative as a top. Classic Irish gift of the gab and so on.”

“Right, but I didn’t know what you might want to hear. Playful teasing, baby talk, humiliation, total silence - your taste could’ve been anywhere on the spectrum, so I played it safe.”

She nodded.

“Wise. Next time we’ll go over it first.”

David hadn’t even considered the possibility of a repeat performance.

“There’s going to be a next time?”

“With proper BDSM protocols in place … but I certainly hope so. You’re driven, ambitious, diligent and talented. You care deeply about the development and well-being of those working underneath you. You-mmm…”

His boss’ unexpected praise had moved David to rub her soft belly, tracing gentle circles with his palm.

“…y-you wanted to win my confidence, and playing together like this is as close as a person can get to me. I can help you to ascend the industry ladder very quickly, but it really is up to you.”

“So my job’s safe?”

She chuckled.

“It always was. I’m not a complete bitch, you know - ohhh, that feels amazing, don’t stop - anyway, how about it? Do you fancy being my new protégé … who occasionally ties me up and tickles my tummy?”

David squeezed her shoulder and smiled.

“Hmm … let me mull it over for a moment…”

He trailed his fingertips lightly over the dusky skin, beginning to wiggle them. She yelped and grabbed his hand.

“No more tonight, you lunatic, I mean it! You nearly killed me earlier - just stroke me...”

“OK, OK. As you’ve probably guessed, it’s a yes. I have to admit, I always admired your lifestyle, aspired to it even … but somehow I never thought that it might involve being able to do this.”

She closed her eyes, utterly spent.

“Well, we live and learn, don’t we?”

A few minutes passed in silence, broken only by sighs and gentle humming from Asal as David’s palm massaged the residual tingles away. Eventually she stirred.

“As tempting as it is to let you do this all night, I have a meeting at 9am and, regrettably, I’m going to have to head upstairs and sleep the sleep of the dead until then.”

“Upstairs?”

“My penthouse. The Shard has apartments further up, but has ended up struggling to sell them - I guess not many people want to live several hundred feet up in the sky. For me, though, it cuts out the commute. Next time we’ll meet there instead.”

She’s inviting me into her home. To restrain and torture her. What is my life?!

Squeezing his hand gently, she got to her feet.

“In the meantime, take the weekend off and enjoy yourself. That’s not a request. You’re working too many hours at the moment and you’re going to need to be on top form very soon. There’s plenty of fun to be had in London - I doubt you’ve given it much of a chance yet.”

Tying his shoelaces, David couldn’t help thinking that nothing in London or anywhere else could ever be as much fun as what awaited him in Asal Elahi’s apartment.

“Right, I need to sort myself out so that security won’t think that someone’s beaten me up. I’ll see you on Monday morning - and not before.”

David nodded, affecting a formal demeanour.

“It was good to meet you at last, Ms Elahi.”

The CEO rolled her eyes, but even as she swatted him on the arm, she couldn’t help finally breaking into a genuine, beaming smile.

“Get out of here, you terror. Go on - shoo!”

***

Five minutes later, David was riding the lift to the ground floor, attempting to process the whole escapade.

All of that drama was just a pretext for getting her rocks off - imagine the audacity! Just need to hope that being in her pocket serves me better than being beneath her notice in the days ahead. Better keep my head on straight - she’s clever and calculating, not to mention powerful and scary as hell, but all of that vanished when I was in control ... and all she could do was scream … and beg … and cry … as I obliterated her poor belly button. And God … what a belly button!

He shook his head in wonder, transfixed by the memory. His next encounter with Asal Elahi couldn’t come soon enough…

 

[TicklerJames1993]

This is an astonishingly good story - so well written, brilliant story and characters and, of course, incredible tickling! Very much looking forward to reading more if there is any planned.

 

[TheWindCriesMercy]

This is an astonishingly good story - so well written, brilliant story and characters and, of course, incredible tickling! Very much looking forward to reading more if there is any planned.

Thanks a lot for taking the time to say so! Glad someone’s enjoyed it 🙏🏻