milagros317
Wielder of 500 Feathers
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Double Trouble (F/f, F/m, FF/m)
This story was the winner of the 2002 Golden Feather Award for best nonfiction story of the year in the Tickling Media Forum.
All three characters in this story are over 21 years old.
This story contains extreme F/m tickle torture, foot worship, and some adult
material. If that will offend you, then don't read it.
"Double Trouble"
by Milagros
Part One
---------
I am waiting, naked, on my hands and knees, for Mistress Zara to enter the room.
This is a special day that we have been keenly anticipating--a joint session
with her friend, Mistress Kassandra. Mistress Zara and I have worked on a script
for this role play, and Mistress Kassandra has read it. I will play the role of
a boy, and Mistress Kassandra will play the role of my older sister. Mistress
Zara will play the role of our babysitter, hired by our parents to take care of
us on a holiday weekend. In the role play, she has been our babysitter before,
and has had trouble with us misbehaving.
Mistress Zara enters the room, looking quite young in a cheerleader's skirt and
sweater, with her lovely feet hidden in knee-high white socks and sneakers.
(Actually, she is in her mid 20's. I am quite a bit older.)
"Are you ready, slave?"
"Yes, Mistress Zara," I answer from the floor.
"I'll go out, and Mistress Kassandra will come in, as your sister. When I
return, it will be as your babysitter. You may get up, and sit on the couch."
I obey. The room has a large couch, a padded bondage table, a chair, and a
cabinet with supplies. Kassandra enters, also looking young in a cheerleader's
sweater, with a short skirt, and white socks and sneakers. (Actually, she is in
her early 20's.)
"Yuck!" says Kassandra. "You're disgusting, as usual. How can you go running
around in the middle of the day with no clothes on?"
"Who cares what you think, sis! If you don't like it, get out of my room. Nobody
invited you in here, anyway. You're a pest!"
As we trade insults and pokes, Zara enters the room.
"Are you two fighting again? After the trouble I had with you last time, I
didn't want to take this job. But your parents promised me that you two would
behave, and I asked for _complete_ _authority_ to do anything necessary to keep
you on good behavior. Your parents gave me a free hand. I can punish either one
of you, or both of you, as I see fit."
As Zara glares at us, we look down in shame, and await her judgement. She
reminds us that the last time she told our parents about our bad behavior, we
were both grounded for a month.
"So you have to do what I say. If you obey me, then I won't tell them. Get up on
that bed, back-to-back," she adds, pointing to the bondage table.
Kassandra and I obey, climbing up onto the bondage table, and lying on our
sides, back-to-back.
Zara removes many lengths of rope from the supply cabinet, and begins by tying
us together at shoulder level. My wrists are then tied behind my back, and the
same is done to Kassandra. Then Zara ties all four wrists together inbetween our
backs. She takes more rope, and moves down to our feet.
"You should know better than to wear shoes in bed!" she scolds Kassandra.
She unlaces Kassandra's sneakers and pulls them off. She pulls off her white
socks, also. Kassandra squeals with laughter; Zara has taken the opportunity to
tickle her lovely, now bare, feet. It's too bad that I can not see them, tied
back-to-back with her.
Zara has a pleased smirk on her face, as she ties Kassandra's ankles together,
and then ties mine together. She completes her work by tying all four ankles
together, with yet another rope. I can feel Kassandra's bare feet against mine,
which excites me.
"I'm now going to have a contest," announces Zara. "I'm going to find out which
one of you is more ticklish. The one who is more ticklish will be the loser."
She begins by holding back Kassandra's toes, and tickling her sole with her
fingernails. Zara's nails are medium length and strong, and make excellent
tickling implements. Kassandra laughs, shrieks, kicks, and shakes, trying to
evade the torment. I am shaking along with her, tied to her at the shoulders,
wrists, and ankles.
Zara is ruthless, scratching at Kassandra's soles with no mercy, until Kassandra
is laughing uncontrollably. Moving up to her calves gives her a little rest, but
when Zara's fingernails get behind her knees, Kassandra goes berserk,
frantically trying to get away. We are tied too tightly, and she can not escape
the ever moving fingers.
After a light tickling on the thighs, Zara digs into Kassandra's lower ribs with
both thumbs, causing her to howl like a mad woman, and beg for mercy.
"Oh, no, young lady, you'll get no mercy until I'm good and finished with you,"
Zara replies.
She moves up the rib cage very slowly, as Kassandra laughs and laughs, unable to
speak. When she reaches the armpits, she pokes under both arms at the same time.
Kassandra howls again, like an insane woman, and Zara is gleeful.
"I've found your best spot! Right under the arms. Now you're in for it, young
lady. This is quite a lot of fun. And this is going to go on for quite some
time."
She keeps digging into Kassandra's armpits for a good five minutes, until
Kassandra is too weak to laugh very loudly, until she is truly desparate for
air, until she would promise anything to Zara in exchange for a break from the
tickling, but she has no breath, and can not speak.
Finally, Zara stops. Kassandra is now panting and gasping, and still can not
speak. Zara walks around to my side of the table, and looks deep into my eyes.
"Your sister is quite ticklish, about 8 on a scale of 0 to 10. But now it's your
turn, young man, and I don't believe that you are going to enjoy this."
Zara begins by digging into my collarbones, which she knows are very ticklish. I
begin to laugh hard, and shake, dragging Kassandra with me as I struggle.
"No way you can escape my magic fingers," says Zara, moving down to my armpits.
I go berserk, as she pokes and pokes under my arms. I am laughing so hard that I
can't breathe well, and the bondage table is shaking, even with my weight and
Kassandra's on it. Zara never lets up, and I am hardly able to make a sound, as
she keeps tickling and tickling under my arms.
It seems like an eternity, but is probably only five minutes, when she moves
down to my ribs. She plays them like a piano, one hand on each side, as I laugh
and laugh. My armpits still ache, as she gives my ribs a real going over.
In between my bursts of laughter, I manage to get out two words, "please,
mercy."
"No mercy for naughty boys!" says Zara. "Not now, not ever. Tickle, tickle,
tickle, baby boy. That's what you'll get--endless tickling. Tickle, tickle,
tickle. Do you like it? Because I haven't even begun to tickle you, really."
It is not so bad when she goes down to my thighs. They are ticklish, but not
nearly as much as other places. Behhind my knees causes me to thrash and howl
again, much to Zara's amusement. She digs her nails behind my knees for a few
minutes, and grins at my frantic reaction.
She stops, goes to my feet, holds the toes back on my right foot, and pauses.
She lets me tremble in anticipation for ten full seconds. Then it starts--the
deadly scrabbling of her fingernails on my taut sole. I go mad. I kick and
thrash so much that she climbs up on the bondage table, and sits over our four
legs to keep me still. I am laughing so hard that I can't breathe at all, and I
am desparate. But she keeps it up, switching to my left foot, until I think that
I will pass out. I am in tickle hell, suffering and suffering, unable to do
anything about it. Zara revels in my helpless ticklish vulnerability, and
tickles me without a pause. She tickles and tickles, and I can do nothing but
endure it.
At long last she stops. I just tremble and gasp, and Kassandra speaks.
"He's more ticklish, isn't he? Don't I win?"
It is obvious to all three of us that I am indeed more ticklish than Kassandra,
but Zara says, "I'm not sure. So I'll just have to continue the contest."
She climbs down from the bondage table, and picks up two toothbrushes from the
supplies. With a look of delight, she pokes them into Kassandra's armpits.
Kassandra shrieks, and laughs, and struggles. Zara keeps this up for only about
two minutes.
"Still an 8," says Zara.
She comes over to me, and holds the toothbrushes in front of my face, and grins.
Again, she lets me tremble in anticipation for about ten seconds, before poking
them under my arms. I howl, and the whole table shakes, as I laugh and laugh.
She keeps it up for five full minutes, until I'm too exhausted to struggle, and
just lie there, enduring unbearable tickle torture.
She stops, and drops the brushes to the floor. She looks at me with pity. My
armpits are aching worse than ever, and I am panting.
"You're a 9 at least, maybe 9 and a half. You lose the contest."
"Yippee! I win, I win, I win!!" exults Kassandra.
Zara unties all the ropes that hold us together, and then unties Kassandra's
ankles and wrists. As Kassandra gets down from the bondage table, rubbing her
wrists to restore full circulation, Zara tightens the ropes holding my ankles
together, and also tightens the ropes holding my wrists together behind my back.
This does not bode well for me, I think.
Part Two
--------
"Help me get your brother onto the floor," says Zara.
The two of them soon have me on my belly on the rug. Zara ties my ankles to my
wrists, very securely, completing a classic hogtie. She smiles, and pulls over
the chair, near to me, and sits down. She takes off her sneakers and socks, and
wriggles her bare toes, knowing that I am twisting my head to see her perfect
bare feet.
She gets up and holds one sock in front of my face. Its sole is stained with
sweat, and covered with grime.
"Open wide," she says, and then stuffs the sock in my mouth, making sure that
the entire soiled sole is inside, with the upper portion, that had covered her
calf, sticking out. She ties a length of rope between my teeth and around my
head to hold the sock in securely. The taste is acidic, quite sour, but I relish
it. It is the taste of sweat from the sacred foot of my beloved Mistress Zara.
Zara sits back in the chair, and pokes my ribs with her toes. I giggle, but it
can not be heard through my gag.
"Here's what you won," says Zara to Kassandra, pointing to me.
"As the winner of the contest, he's all yours. To tickle, and tickle, and tickle
some more. Tickle him to your heart's content. Tickle him as much as you want
to, as long as you want to, as ruthlessly as you want to. I'll just sit here and
use him as my footstool as you tickle him insane. He's well gagged, so don't
worry about the neighbors hearing him. Tickle him until he goes mad. Go to it!
Get him good! Drive him senseless. Tickle him insane!!"
With joy in her eyes, Kassandra hugs Zara, and kisses her on the cheek.
"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much," she says, as she sits beside me on the rug,
picks up both toothbrushes, and digs into both of my armpits.
The hogtie offers no protection; although my arms are pulled behind me and tied
to my ankles, Kassandra is able to get the toothbrushes well lodged into my
armpits, and she tickles relentlessly, with no pause and no mercy. I am laughing
hysterically into my gag, and Kassandra taunts me as she tickles.
"You are _so_ _helpless_! Tickle, tickle, tickle. So utterly helpless and
defenseless. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Utterly at my mercy, little brother.
Tickle, tickle, tickle. And I'll have no mercy, none. Tickle, tickle, tickle,
tickle. Zara has rendered you into my living tickle toy, much more fun than the
Tickle-Me Elmo that I used to have. Tickle, tickle, tickle. So I'm going to
tickle you forever--I may never stop. Tickle, tickle, tickle. The more that I
tickle you, the more that I want to tickle you! Every squirm and wriggle that I
see incites me to tickle you more! Tickle, tickle, tickle. I just can't get
enough of this--I really will never stop. Tickle, tickle, tickle. I'm going to
tickle you _insane_! Tickle, tickle, tickle. And there's not a thing that you
can do about it. Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle."
As Kassandra taunts me and tickles my armpits, Zara digs her bare toes into my
ribs again. I am in agony, laughing uncontrollably into my gag, unable to catch
my breath, and wishing that I could faint. It goes on and on.
Finally Kassandra takes a break, and I take big breaths through my nose.
"Don't let up!" says Zara. "Don't stop! Tickle him more, keep at it, don't give
him a rest, get him good!"
Kassandra is just moving her attentions to my feet; she had no intention of
stopping. She scratches both of my soles with her nails, and I waggle my feet to
try to get away from it.
"Oh, you'll never escape," says Kassandra, firmly grabbing my toes with one
hand, and bending them back, to keep that foot still, as she scratches its sole
with her other hand. She tickles and tickles my vulnerable sole.
"You're all mine, little brother. Tickle, tickle, tickle. All mine, to tickle
and tickle, and then tickle even more. Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle. Endless
tickle torture, from your big sister, who has put up with more than enough crap
from you. Tickle, tickle, tickle. I'm going to tickle you into madness. I'm
never going to stop tickling! Never! Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle."
No longer willing to just watch, or just use her toes, Zara now sits on the rug
beside me also, and digs into my ribs with both hands. The two women smile at
each other, and they both keep tickling and tickling. They are enjoying my
helpless agony, as they just tickle and tickle. My armpits still ache, my
diaphragm now hurts, and I laugh and laugh into my gag.
They seem to know that I'm about to faint, and let up just enough to keep me
conscious. Every minute seems like an eternity to me, an eternity of ticklish
agony. The sock gag is sodden with my saliva, and I am covered with sweat. They
tickle and tickle, keeping me on the edge, keeping me in tickle torture hell.
---------------------------------------------------
When they finally stop, remove my gag, and untie me, I just lie on the rug,
senseless. I have been tickled to exhaustion, too weak to move, tickled
senseless.
"How long?" I manage to ask.
Kassandra glances down at her watch. "It was 45 minutes, but we're _not_ done
with you."
"Oh no," says Zara, "and you were able to wriggle too much in the hogtie. So now
we'll stretch you out."
I make no effort to resist as they tie my wrists together again, turn me over
onto my back, pull my wrists high over my head, and tie them to a metal ring in
the floor. They now tie my legs together at the knees and at the ankles, stretch
me out tautly, and tie my ankles to another ring in the floor.
They both grin at me. Zara, with her gorgeous red hair, has her green eyes
gleaming with tickle lust. Kassandra, with her lovely,long, dark brown hair, has
a similar gleam in her brown eyes. They are both happy to be in total control of
a helpless, ticklish male, and they intend to take full advantage of it. They
say as much.
"You're even more helpless than before, baby brother, and I'm going to tickle
you even more than before!" says Kassandra, as she tickles me under the chin.
"We're going to tickle you senseless again," says Zara, as she tickles my
collarbones, "we're going to tickle you insane!"
Zara picks up an electric toothbrush, and turns it on. She straddles my chest,
and works the brush first in one armpit, then in the other, then on collarbones,
and then back to the first armpit.
As Zara drives me mad with that infernal electric brush, rotating her
attentions, Kassandra sits on my legs and tickles my feet endlessly. I laugh out
loud at first, but my laughter becomes weaker and weaker as they continue. My
struggles become feeble. But they just keep on tickling me, and tickling me, and
tickling me.
Zara looks into my eyes, silently, as she tickles and tickles. It is a look of
pure joy, reveling in her power over me. Kassandra begins to taunt me again.
"It's just too much fun to stop, baby brother. Tickle, tickle, tickle. This is
more fun that I can tell you. Tickle, tickle, tickle. So much fun to watch you
squirm. Tickle, tickle, tickle. So much fun to watch your toes wriggle. Tickle,
tickle, tickle. Knowing that you can't get away, knowing that you desparately
want us to stop, knowing that we _won't_ stop, not for a long, _long_, LONG
time. Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle. You are utterly helpless, and
totally under our control. And it's going to stay that way, forever. Tickle,
tickle, tickle. We're going to tickle you, forever. Tickle, tickle, tickle."
"Or at least until your parents return, on Monday night," says Zara. "Tickle,
tickle, tickle. No hope for you, no escape, no rest. Tickle, tickle, tickle.
Maybe I'll call five or six of my girlfriends to come over, and we'll gang
tickle you all night! Tickle, tickle, tickle."
They both laugh at that idea, and keep on tickling me. I am now too weak to
struggle at all, and just lie there. My mouth makes laughing motions, but I
don't have enough breath to make a sound. I spend what seems like another
eternity in tickle torture hell, suffering endlessly. It goes on and on, as they
tickle me ruthlessly, endlessly.
-----------------------------------------------------
At long last they do stop. I am utterly exhausted again, and too weak to move or
speak, barely noticing as they untie me.
"We'll give you a break from the tickling," says Zara, "but only if you make
yourself useful. My socks were so dirty because I did a five mile jog in them
this morning. I want a foot massage. So does your sister. Will you agree to
massage our feet?"
I have gotten some breath back, and manage to answer.
"Yes," I say, sincerely, "I'll be glad to."
Part Three
-----------
The women sit on the couch, their lovely feet on the rug. I take a position
sitting at their feet, and Zara extends her left foot to me. Her feet are size
7, with high arches, short cute toes, and smooth heels. She has had a pedicure
the day before, leaving the soles soft and ever so beautiful. Her nails are
painted dark crimson, and perfectly shaped.
Mistress Zara has had me read about reflexology and learn to be competent at
foot massage. I balance her foot in my lap, and use both hands, as I concentrate
on massaging her. I do most of the work with my thumbs, as the books recommend,
working slowly up her sole, from the heel to the base of the toes. I then pull
and roll each toe separately. I concentrate some extra effort on the ball of her
foot, as she sighs with pleasure. Then I go back to her heel and start over. I
am in heaven, serving at the lovely sacred feet of my Mistress, my Goddess.
After I've been working about 15 minutes, and done each of Zara's feet twice,
Kassandra is getting impatient.
"I want my turn," she says sharply.
"Alright," says Zara. Then to me, "Switch to your sister's feet now."
I move over to Kassandra's feet, and she puts her left foot in my lap. Her feet
are size 9, with high arches, long elegant toes, smooth heels, and creamy soles.
Her nails are painted brick red. I use the same massage technique, working
slowly and carefully with both thumbs.
"He's really good at this," she says to Zara, as I finish her right foot for the
second time. She withdraws it and presents her left again.
"He'd better be," says Zara, "or I _will_ call half a dozen of my girlfriends to
come over and tickle him all night."
They both laugh, as I gently roll the toes of Kassandra's left foot, my armpits
and diaphragm still sore from my earlier tickling. I strive to give an excellent
massage, and to please her.
Kassandra looks at her watch, withdraws her foot, and speaks to me.
"You're a fine masseur, little brother, but your break is over. Now it's tickle
time again, and you're going to get it worse than ever. We're going to tickle
you insane, we're going to drive you mad with tickling!"
"Yes," adds Zara, "we'll tickle you non-stop until Monday night. We'll drive you
crazy with tickle torture!"
Then she looks at her watch, and her expression changes. She is no longer
Zara-the-babysitter; she is again Mistress Zara.
"The role play is over," says Mistress Zara. "We'll resume it the next time we
have a joint session. Get the dice, slave."
I go to my bag and bring a small plastic case with six dice. I hand her the
case. I wait on my hands and knees.
"First, we'll determine your fate," says Mistress Zara. She takes two dice for
herself, and hands one die to Mistress Kassandra. I close my eyes without before
she orders it, and I hear dice rolling.
"Open your eyes, slave. You may have the sum of my two dice, or you may have
Mistress Kassandra's. I'd advise you against mine."
I can see that both of her fists are closed, as is one of Kassandra's. I decide
to trust her advice, and say that I'll choose Mistress Kassandra's. She opens
her fist, and shows me a '4'.
"Wise choice," says Mistress Zara, opening her fists and showing me a '1' and a
'2'.
"I know what that means," says Mistress Kassandra, grinning.
This is not our first joint session with her, and she knows the meaning of the
'4'. Between now and my next session with Mistress Zara, in two weeks, I will be
permitted to gratify myself only four times. I must record each such event in
writing, and record my thanks to Mistress Zara for the permission.
"Only four times in fourteen days, how will you manage it?" asks Mistress
Kassandra, with a smirk on her face.
"I take cold showers when I need to, Mistress Kassandra," I say, "because I
would _never_ disobey Mistress Zara by going over my quota. I'm not allowed to
go under it, either. It must be exactly four. To show that I belong to Mistress
Zara, totally, even when I am not with her. To show that she owns my sexuality."
Mistress Zara nods, with approval. The one time that I did go over my quota, she
punished me severely. In a way that I don't even like to think about.
"Any requests, slave?" asks Mistress Zara.
"I most humbly beg for permission to lick your soles, Mistress." I say.
"Well," says Mistress Zara, "we did give you quite a thorough tickling. So I'll
be generous to you. You may lick my soles, and Mistress Kassandra's soles also."
Mistress Kassandra nods, and gives me a big smile.
"Oh thank you, Mistress," I say. It is rare that she allows me to lick another
woman's soles.
"Roll two dice. Would you rather have the sum, or the product? You must answer
_before_ you roll."
"The product," I say, hoping not to roll a '1' on either die.
I am very lucky indeed. I roll a '5' and a '6'.
"Thirty!" I exclaim happily.
"You may begin," says Mistress Zara, putting her left foot in my lap.
I hold the foot in both hands, and give it thirty licks, along the whole length
of the sole, from the back of the heel to the tips of the toes, with my tongue
fully extended. I count each lick out loud as its done, and end like this:
"29."
"30. Thank you ever so much, Mistress. I most humbly beg your permission to lick
your other foot."
"You may," she says, graciously, extending her right foot to me.
I am once again in heaven, as I lick and lick her sole, savoring the flavor and
feel of it, as I count off the thirty licks. I thank her again when I am
finished.
I move over the Mistress Kassandra's feet, and address her.
"I most humbly beg for permission to lick your soles, Mistress Kassandra."
"You may begin," she says sweetly, putting her right foot near my face.
I use the same technique, with full tongue extention, licking slowly from the
back of her heel to the tips of her toes. She giggles a little, she is so
ticklish on her feet. Her feet taste a little saltier than Mistress Zara's, and,
of course, each lick is longer. I count out loud, and thank her after the
thirtieth.
"Thank you so much for allowing me to lick your sole, Mistress Kassandra. I most
humbly beg for permission to lick the other sole."
"You may," she says, smiling as she extends her left foot.
After the last thirty long, slow licks I look up and smile at both of them.
"Thank you both, ever so much, for being so kind as to allow me to lick your
very lovely soles. I am most grateful to you."
"You're welcome, slave," says Mistress Zara, "and now lie down."
"It was a pleasure," says Mistress Kassandra, "getting a nice tongue bath on my
soles."
I lie down, on my back, on the rug. Both of them put their bare feet on me.
Mistress Zara has one foot on my forehead, and one foot over my mouth. She
orders me to keep my lips shut. Mistress Kassandra has one foot on my chest.
With the ball of her other foot, she strokes my genitals, very softly. Within a
minute, I have a firm erection. She sees this, and stops. She lets the foot rest
on my thigh.
"I've made sure that he'll use up one of his four permissions tonight," she
says. Both of them laugh. I am in heaven, with four beautiful bare feet pressing
down on me.
Alas, the time has now expired, and I must dress and go home. It will be two
weeks until I next see my beloved Mistress Zara.
The End
Links to websites:
Mistress Zara
Mistress Kassandra
Rebecca's Hidden Chamber (the dungeon where this took place)
This story was the winner of the 2002 Golden Feather Award for best nonfiction story of the year in the Tickling Media Forum.
All three characters in this story are over 21 years old.
This story contains extreme F/m tickle torture, foot worship, and some adult
material. If that will offend you, then don't read it.
"Double Trouble"
by Milagros
Part One
---------
I am waiting, naked, on my hands and knees, for Mistress Zara to enter the room.
This is a special day that we have been keenly anticipating--a joint session
with her friend, Mistress Kassandra. Mistress Zara and I have worked on a script
for this role play, and Mistress Kassandra has read it. I will play the role of
a boy, and Mistress Kassandra will play the role of my older sister. Mistress
Zara will play the role of our babysitter, hired by our parents to take care of
us on a holiday weekend. In the role play, she has been our babysitter before,
and has had trouble with us misbehaving.
Mistress Zara enters the room, looking quite young in a cheerleader's skirt and
sweater, with her lovely feet hidden in knee-high white socks and sneakers.
(Actually, she is in her mid 20's. I am quite a bit older.)
"Are you ready, slave?"
"Yes, Mistress Zara," I answer from the floor.
"I'll go out, and Mistress Kassandra will come in, as your sister. When I
return, it will be as your babysitter. You may get up, and sit on the couch."
I obey. The room has a large couch, a padded bondage table, a chair, and a
cabinet with supplies. Kassandra enters, also looking young in a cheerleader's
sweater, with a short skirt, and white socks and sneakers. (Actually, she is in
her early 20's.)
"Yuck!" says Kassandra. "You're disgusting, as usual. How can you go running
around in the middle of the day with no clothes on?"
"Who cares what you think, sis! If you don't like it, get out of my room. Nobody
invited you in here, anyway. You're a pest!"
As we trade insults and pokes, Zara enters the room.
"Are you two fighting again? After the trouble I had with you last time, I
didn't want to take this job. But your parents promised me that you two would
behave, and I asked for _complete_ _authority_ to do anything necessary to keep
you on good behavior. Your parents gave me a free hand. I can punish either one
of you, or both of you, as I see fit."
As Zara glares at us, we look down in shame, and await her judgement. She
reminds us that the last time she told our parents about our bad behavior, we
were both grounded for a month.
"So you have to do what I say. If you obey me, then I won't tell them. Get up on
that bed, back-to-back," she adds, pointing to the bondage table.
Kassandra and I obey, climbing up onto the bondage table, and lying on our
sides, back-to-back.
Zara removes many lengths of rope from the supply cabinet, and begins by tying
us together at shoulder level. My wrists are then tied behind my back, and the
same is done to Kassandra. Then Zara ties all four wrists together inbetween our
backs. She takes more rope, and moves down to our feet.
"You should know better than to wear shoes in bed!" she scolds Kassandra.
She unlaces Kassandra's sneakers and pulls them off. She pulls off her white
socks, also. Kassandra squeals with laughter; Zara has taken the opportunity to
tickle her lovely, now bare, feet. It's too bad that I can not see them, tied
back-to-back with her.
Zara has a pleased smirk on her face, as she ties Kassandra's ankles together,
and then ties mine together. She completes her work by tying all four ankles
together, with yet another rope. I can feel Kassandra's bare feet against mine,
which excites me.
"I'm now going to have a contest," announces Zara. "I'm going to find out which
one of you is more ticklish. The one who is more ticklish will be the loser."
She begins by holding back Kassandra's toes, and tickling her sole with her
fingernails. Zara's nails are medium length and strong, and make excellent
tickling implements. Kassandra laughs, shrieks, kicks, and shakes, trying to
evade the torment. I am shaking along with her, tied to her at the shoulders,
wrists, and ankles.
Zara is ruthless, scratching at Kassandra's soles with no mercy, until Kassandra
is laughing uncontrollably. Moving up to her calves gives her a little rest, but
when Zara's fingernails get behind her knees, Kassandra goes berserk,
frantically trying to get away. We are tied too tightly, and she can not escape
the ever moving fingers.
After a light tickling on the thighs, Zara digs into Kassandra's lower ribs with
both thumbs, causing her to howl like a mad woman, and beg for mercy.
"Oh, no, young lady, you'll get no mercy until I'm good and finished with you,"
Zara replies.
She moves up the rib cage very slowly, as Kassandra laughs and laughs, unable to
speak. When she reaches the armpits, she pokes under both arms at the same time.
Kassandra howls again, like an insane woman, and Zara is gleeful.
"I've found your best spot! Right under the arms. Now you're in for it, young
lady. This is quite a lot of fun. And this is going to go on for quite some
time."
She keeps digging into Kassandra's armpits for a good five minutes, until
Kassandra is too weak to laugh very loudly, until she is truly desparate for
air, until she would promise anything to Zara in exchange for a break from the
tickling, but she has no breath, and can not speak.
Finally, Zara stops. Kassandra is now panting and gasping, and still can not
speak. Zara walks around to my side of the table, and looks deep into my eyes.
"Your sister is quite ticklish, about 8 on a scale of 0 to 10. But now it's your
turn, young man, and I don't believe that you are going to enjoy this."
Zara begins by digging into my collarbones, which she knows are very ticklish. I
begin to laugh hard, and shake, dragging Kassandra with me as I struggle.
"No way you can escape my magic fingers," says Zara, moving down to my armpits.
I go berserk, as she pokes and pokes under my arms. I am laughing so hard that I
can't breathe well, and the bondage table is shaking, even with my weight and
Kassandra's on it. Zara never lets up, and I am hardly able to make a sound, as
she keeps tickling and tickling under my arms.
It seems like an eternity, but is probably only five minutes, when she moves
down to my ribs. She plays them like a piano, one hand on each side, as I laugh
and laugh. My armpits still ache, as she gives my ribs a real going over.
In between my bursts of laughter, I manage to get out two words, "please,
mercy."
"No mercy for naughty boys!" says Zara. "Not now, not ever. Tickle, tickle,
tickle, baby boy. That's what you'll get--endless tickling. Tickle, tickle,
tickle. Do you like it? Because I haven't even begun to tickle you, really."
It is not so bad when she goes down to my thighs. They are ticklish, but not
nearly as much as other places. Behhind my knees causes me to thrash and howl
again, much to Zara's amusement. She digs her nails behind my knees for a few
minutes, and grins at my frantic reaction.
She stops, goes to my feet, holds the toes back on my right foot, and pauses.
She lets me tremble in anticipation for ten full seconds. Then it starts--the
deadly scrabbling of her fingernails on my taut sole. I go mad. I kick and
thrash so much that she climbs up on the bondage table, and sits over our four
legs to keep me still. I am laughing so hard that I can't breathe at all, and I
am desparate. But she keeps it up, switching to my left foot, until I think that
I will pass out. I am in tickle hell, suffering and suffering, unable to do
anything about it. Zara revels in my helpless ticklish vulnerability, and
tickles me without a pause. She tickles and tickles, and I can do nothing but
endure it.
At long last she stops. I just tremble and gasp, and Kassandra speaks.
"He's more ticklish, isn't he? Don't I win?"
It is obvious to all three of us that I am indeed more ticklish than Kassandra,
but Zara says, "I'm not sure. So I'll just have to continue the contest."
She climbs down from the bondage table, and picks up two toothbrushes from the
supplies. With a look of delight, she pokes them into Kassandra's armpits.
Kassandra shrieks, and laughs, and struggles. Zara keeps this up for only about
two minutes.
"Still an 8," says Zara.
She comes over to me, and holds the toothbrushes in front of my face, and grins.
Again, she lets me tremble in anticipation for about ten seconds, before poking
them under my arms. I howl, and the whole table shakes, as I laugh and laugh.
She keeps it up for five full minutes, until I'm too exhausted to struggle, and
just lie there, enduring unbearable tickle torture.
She stops, and drops the brushes to the floor. She looks at me with pity. My
armpits are aching worse than ever, and I am panting.
"You're a 9 at least, maybe 9 and a half. You lose the contest."
"Yippee! I win, I win, I win!!" exults Kassandra.
Zara unties all the ropes that hold us together, and then unties Kassandra's
ankles and wrists. As Kassandra gets down from the bondage table, rubbing her
wrists to restore full circulation, Zara tightens the ropes holding my ankles
together, and also tightens the ropes holding my wrists together behind my back.
This does not bode well for me, I think.
Part Two
--------
"Help me get your brother onto the floor," says Zara.
The two of them soon have me on my belly on the rug. Zara ties my ankles to my
wrists, very securely, completing a classic hogtie. She smiles, and pulls over
the chair, near to me, and sits down. She takes off her sneakers and socks, and
wriggles her bare toes, knowing that I am twisting my head to see her perfect
bare feet.
She gets up and holds one sock in front of my face. Its sole is stained with
sweat, and covered with grime.
"Open wide," she says, and then stuffs the sock in my mouth, making sure that
the entire soiled sole is inside, with the upper portion, that had covered her
calf, sticking out. She ties a length of rope between my teeth and around my
head to hold the sock in securely. The taste is acidic, quite sour, but I relish
it. It is the taste of sweat from the sacred foot of my beloved Mistress Zara.
Zara sits back in the chair, and pokes my ribs with her toes. I giggle, but it
can not be heard through my gag.
"Here's what you won," says Zara to Kassandra, pointing to me.
"As the winner of the contest, he's all yours. To tickle, and tickle, and tickle
some more. Tickle him to your heart's content. Tickle him as much as you want
to, as long as you want to, as ruthlessly as you want to. I'll just sit here and
use him as my footstool as you tickle him insane. He's well gagged, so don't
worry about the neighbors hearing him. Tickle him until he goes mad. Go to it!
Get him good! Drive him senseless. Tickle him insane!!"
With joy in her eyes, Kassandra hugs Zara, and kisses her on the cheek.
"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much," she says, as she sits beside me on the rug,
picks up both toothbrushes, and digs into both of my armpits.
The hogtie offers no protection; although my arms are pulled behind me and tied
to my ankles, Kassandra is able to get the toothbrushes well lodged into my
armpits, and she tickles relentlessly, with no pause and no mercy. I am laughing
hysterically into my gag, and Kassandra taunts me as she tickles.
"You are _so_ _helpless_! Tickle, tickle, tickle. So utterly helpless and
defenseless. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Utterly at my mercy, little brother.
Tickle, tickle, tickle. And I'll have no mercy, none. Tickle, tickle, tickle,
tickle. Zara has rendered you into my living tickle toy, much more fun than the
Tickle-Me Elmo that I used to have. Tickle, tickle, tickle. So I'm going to
tickle you forever--I may never stop. Tickle, tickle, tickle. The more that I
tickle you, the more that I want to tickle you! Every squirm and wriggle that I
see incites me to tickle you more! Tickle, tickle, tickle. I just can't get
enough of this--I really will never stop. Tickle, tickle, tickle. I'm going to
tickle you _insane_! Tickle, tickle, tickle. And there's not a thing that you
can do about it. Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle."
As Kassandra taunts me and tickles my armpits, Zara digs her bare toes into my
ribs again. I am in agony, laughing uncontrollably into my gag, unable to catch
my breath, and wishing that I could faint. It goes on and on.
Finally Kassandra takes a break, and I take big breaths through my nose.
"Don't let up!" says Zara. "Don't stop! Tickle him more, keep at it, don't give
him a rest, get him good!"
Kassandra is just moving her attentions to my feet; she had no intention of
stopping. She scratches both of my soles with her nails, and I waggle my feet to
try to get away from it.
"Oh, you'll never escape," says Kassandra, firmly grabbing my toes with one
hand, and bending them back, to keep that foot still, as she scratches its sole
with her other hand. She tickles and tickles my vulnerable sole.
"You're all mine, little brother. Tickle, tickle, tickle. All mine, to tickle
and tickle, and then tickle even more. Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle. Endless
tickle torture, from your big sister, who has put up with more than enough crap
from you. Tickle, tickle, tickle. I'm going to tickle you into madness. I'm
never going to stop tickling! Never! Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle."
No longer willing to just watch, or just use her toes, Zara now sits on the rug
beside me also, and digs into my ribs with both hands. The two women smile at
each other, and they both keep tickling and tickling. They are enjoying my
helpless agony, as they just tickle and tickle. My armpits still ache, my
diaphragm now hurts, and I laugh and laugh into my gag.
They seem to know that I'm about to faint, and let up just enough to keep me
conscious. Every minute seems like an eternity to me, an eternity of ticklish
agony. The sock gag is sodden with my saliva, and I am covered with sweat. They
tickle and tickle, keeping me on the edge, keeping me in tickle torture hell.
---------------------------------------------------
When they finally stop, remove my gag, and untie me, I just lie on the rug,
senseless. I have been tickled to exhaustion, too weak to move, tickled
senseless.
"How long?" I manage to ask.
Kassandra glances down at her watch. "It was 45 minutes, but we're _not_ done
with you."
"Oh no," says Zara, "and you were able to wriggle too much in the hogtie. So now
we'll stretch you out."
I make no effort to resist as they tie my wrists together again, turn me over
onto my back, pull my wrists high over my head, and tie them to a metal ring in
the floor. They now tie my legs together at the knees and at the ankles, stretch
me out tautly, and tie my ankles to another ring in the floor.
They both grin at me. Zara, with her gorgeous red hair, has her green eyes
gleaming with tickle lust. Kassandra, with her lovely,long, dark brown hair, has
a similar gleam in her brown eyes. They are both happy to be in total control of
a helpless, ticklish male, and they intend to take full advantage of it. They
say as much.
"You're even more helpless than before, baby brother, and I'm going to tickle
you even more than before!" says Kassandra, as she tickles me under the chin.
"We're going to tickle you senseless again," says Zara, as she tickles my
collarbones, "we're going to tickle you insane!"
Zara picks up an electric toothbrush, and turns it on. She straddles my chest,
and works the brush first in one armpit, then in the other, then on collarbones,
and then back to the first armpit.
As Zara drives me mad with that infernal electric brush, rotating her
attentions, Kassandra sits on my legs and tickles my feet endlessly. I laugh out
loud at first, but my laughter becomes weaker and weaker as they continue. My
struggles become feeble. But they just keep on tickling me, and tickling me, and
tickling me.
Zara looks into my eyes, silently, as she tickles and tickles. It is a look of
pure joy, reveling in her power over me. Kassandra begins to taunt me again.
"It's just too much fun to stop, baby brother. Tickle, tickle, tickle. This is
more fun that I can tell you. Tickle, tickle, tickle. So much fun to watch you
squirm. Tickle, tickle, tickle. So much fun to watch your toes wriggle. Tickle,
tickle, tickle. Knowing that you can't get away, knowing that you desparately
want us to stop, knowing that we _won't_ stop, not for a long, _long_, LONG
time. Tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle, tickle. You are utterly helpless, and
totally under our control. And it's going to stay that way, forever. Tickle,
tickle, tickle. We're going to tickle you, forever. Tickle, tickle, tickle."
"Or at least until your parents return, on Monday night," says Zara. "Tickle,
tickle, tickle. No hope for you, no escape, no rest. Tickle, tickle, tickle.
Maybe I'll call five or six of my girlfriends to come over, and we'll gang
tickle you all night! Tickle, tickle, tickle."
They both laugh at that idea, and keep on tickling me. I am now too weak to
struggle at all, and just lie there. My mouth makes laughing motions, but I
don't have enough breath to make a sound. I spend what seems like another
eternity in tickle torture hell, suffering endlessly. It goes on and on, as they
tickle me ruthlessly, endlessly.
-----------------------------------------------------
At long last they do stop. I am utterly exhausted again, and too weak to move or
speak, barely noticing as they untie me.
"We'll give you a break from the tickling," says Zara, "but only if you make
yourself useful. My socks were so dirty because I did a five mile jog in them
this morning. I want a foot massage. So does your sister. Will you agree to
massage our feet?"
I have gotten some breath back, and manage to answer.
"Yes," I say, sincerely, "I'll be glad to."
Part Three
-----------
The women sit on the couch, their lovely feet on the rug. I take a position
sitting at their feet, and Zara extends her left foot to me. Her feet are size
7, with high arches, short cute toes, and smooth heels. She has had a pedicure
the day before, leaving the soles soft and ever so beautiful. Her nails are
painted dark crimson, and perfectly shaped.
Mistress Zara has had me read about reflexology and learn to be competent at
foot massage. I balance her foot in my lap, and use both hands, as I concentrate
on massaging her. I do most of the work with my thumbs, as the books recommend,
working slowly up her sole, from the heel to the base of the toes. I then pull
and roll each toe separately. I concentrate some extra effort on the ball of her
foot, as she sighs with pleasure. Then I go back to her heel and start over. I
am in heaven, serving at the lovely sacred feet of my Mistress, my Goddess.
After I've been working about 15 minutes, and done each of Zara's feet twice,
Kassandra is getting impatient.
"I want my turn," she says sharply.
"Alright," says Zara. Then to me, "Switch to your sister's feet now."
I move over to Kassandra's feet, and she puts her left foot in my lap. Her feet
are size 9, with high arches, long elegant toes, smooth heels, and creamy soles.
Her nails are painted brick red. I use the same massage technique, working
slowly and carefully with both thumbs.
"He's really good at this," she says to Zara, as I finish her right foot for the
second time. She withdraws it and presents her left again.
"He'd better be," says Zara, "or I _will_ call half a dozen of my girlfriends to
come over and tickle him all night."
They both laugh, as I gently roll the toes of Kassandra's left foot, my armpits
and diaphragm still sore from my earlier tickling. I strive to give an excellent
massage, and to please her.
Kassandra looks at her watch, withdraws her foot, and speaks to me.
"You're a fine masseur, little brother, but your break is over. Now it's tickle
time again, and you're going to get it worse than ever. We're going to tickle
you insane, we're going to drive you mad with tickling!"
"Yes," adds Zara, "we'll tickle you non-stop until Monday night. We'll drive you
crazy with tickle torture!"
Then she looks at her watch, and her expression changes. She is no longer
Zara-the-babysitter; she is again Mistress Zara.
"The role play is over," says Mistress Zara. "We'll resume it the next time we
have a joint session. Get the dice, slave."
I go to my bag and bring a small plastic case with six dice. I hand her the
case. I wait on my hands and knees.
"First, we'll determine your fate," says Mistress Zara. She takes two dice for
herself, and hands one die to Mistress Kassandra. I close my eyes without before
she orders it, and I hear dice rolling.
"Open your eyes, slave. You may have the sum of my two dice, or you may have
Mistress Kassandra's. I'd advise you against mine."
I can see that both of her fists are closed, as is one of Kassandra's. I decide
to trust her advice, and say that I'll choose Mistress Kassandra's. She opens
her fist, and shows me a '4'.
"Wise choice," says Mistress Zara, opening her fists and showing me a '1' and a
'2'.
"I know what that means," says Mistress Kassandra, grinning.
This is not our first joint session with her, and she knows the meaning of the
'4'. Between now and my next session with Mistress Zara, in two weeks, I will be
permitted to gratify myself only four times. I must record each such event in
writing, and record my thanks to Mistress Zara for the permission.
"Only four times in fourteen days, how will you manage it?" asks Mistress
Kassandra, with a smirk on her face.
"I take cold showers when I need to, Mistress Kassandra," I say, "because I
would _never_ disobey Mistress Zara by going over my quota. I'm not allowed to
go under it, either. It must be exactly four. To show that I belong to Mistress
Zara, totally, even when I am not with her. To show that she owns my sexuality."
Mistress Zara nods, with approval. The one time that I did go over my quota, she
punished me severely. In a way that I don't even like to think about.
"Any requests, slave?" asks Mistress Zara.
"I most humbly beg for permission to lick your soles, Mistress." I say.
"Well," says Mistress Zara, "we did give you quite a thorough tickling. So I'll
be generous to you. You may lick my soles, and Mistress Kassandra's soles also."
Mistress Kassandra nods, and gives me a big smile.
"Oh thank you, Mistress," I say. It is rare that she allows me to lick another
woman's soles.
"Roll two dice. Would you rather have the sum, or the product? You must answer
_before_ you roll."
"The product," I say, hoping not to roll a '1' on either die.
I am very lucky indeed. I roll a '5' and a '6'.
"Thirty!" I exclaim happily.
"You may begin," says Mistress Zara, putting her left foot in my lap.
I hold the foot in both hands, and give it thirty licks, along the whole length
of the sole, from the back of the heel to the tips of the toes, with my tongue
fully extended. I count each lick out loud as its done, and end like this:
"29."
"30. Thank you ever so much, Mistress. I most humbly beg your permission to lick
your other foot."
"You may," she says, graciously, extending her right foot to me.
I am once again in heaven, as I lick and lick her sole, savoring the flavor and
feel of it, as I count off the thirty licks. I thank her again when I am
finished.
I move over the Mistress Kassandra's feet, and address her.
"I most humbly beg for permission to lick your soles, Mistress Kassandra."
"You may begin," she says sweetly, putting her right foot near my face.
I use the same technique, with full tongue extention, licking slowly from the
back of her heel to the tips of her toes. She giggles a little, she is so
ticklish on her feet. Her feet taste a little saltier than Mistress Zara's, and,
of course, each lick is longer. I count out loud, and thank her after the
thirtieth.
"Thank you so much for allowing me to lick your sole, Mistress Kassandra. I most
humbly beg for permission to lick the other sole."
"You may," she says, smiling as she extends her left foot.
After the last thirty long, slow licks I look up and smile at both of them.
"Thank you both, ever so much, for being so kind as to allow me to lick your
very lovely soles. I am most grateful to you."
"You're welcome, slave," says Mistress Zara, "and now lie down."
"It was a pleasure," says Mistress Kassandra, "getting a nice tongue bath on my
soles."
I lie down, on my back, on the rug. Both of them put their bare feet on me.
Mistress Zara has one foot on my forehead, and one foot over my mouth. She
orders me to keep my lips shut. Mistress Kassandra has one foot on my chest.
With the ball of her other foot, she strokes my genitals, very softly. Within a
minute, I have a firm erection. She sees this, and stops. She lets the foot rest
on my thigh.
"I've made sure that he'll use up one of his four permissions tonight," she
says. Both of them laugh. I am in heaven, with four beautiful bare feet pressing
down on me.
Alas, the time has now expired, and I must dress and go home. It will be two
weeks until I next see my beloved Mistress Zara.
The End
Links to websites:
Mistress Zara
Mistress Kassandra
Rebecca's Hidden Chamber (the dungeon where this took place)
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