TickleMantis
4th Level Red Feather
- Joined
- May 5, 2001
- Messages
- 1,987
- Points
- 48
Trish plumped herself onto the couch and clicked on the T.V. Kendell was in hospital again. When the busty red head Trish had gone to work yesterday afternoon the poor blonde twenty two year old she shares an apartment with had suffered another attack from her strange nervous system. Trish, still in her blouse, bra, nylon stockings, skirt, panties and high heels had rushed early from work and spent the night in hospital with her blonde friend who had remained unconsious.
Slipping off her red high heels the green eyed woman wiggled her cute toes inside the thin stockings and stretched out on the over stuffed couch. Flicking through the channels Trish's thoughts were focused on her unfortunate friend. Being incredibly ticklish herself the red head able to feel some semblance of sympathy for Kendell, although not really being able to imagine just how horrible being that ticklish would be. The doctor had said Kendell had become so sensitive from her last attack that even the air in her apartment had tickled her as if someone were using a feather.
Clicking the T.V off Trish proped her head up on the arm of the couch closest to the door. Resting her stockinged feet on the oppossing arm the blouse wearing twenty three year old slowly closed her eyes before drifting into a deep, deep sleep. Dreaming quietly to herself Trish was unaware of the goings on around her and before long she was woken from her peaceful slumber by a deep bass voice.
"Where is she?" Sam Lucas asked sitting in denim jeans a tight dark t-shirt, all six foot of him less than a foot away on the quaint wooden coffee table.
"The hell?!" Trish sat up startled, looking at the apartment door which was securley shut and looked undisturbed. "What are you doing in here?"
"I want to know where Kendell is." Sam said, his bald head reflecting the light a little as sat casually on the table with am eerily calm manner.
"You...get out of here." Trish said sternly as she stood up and made her way toward the door. "Kendell doesn't want to see you again idiot, shes not interested in you."
"The feeling is mutual...I have no interest in her personally...but her body..." Sam stood up, his musculer figure making Trish hesistate with a hint of fear knowing he could easily hurt her before she began unlocking the door.
"Your sick you know that? Kendell's sick and-" Trish stood back suddenly as Sam's large hand pushed the door back closed from the half inch the red head had opened it.
"She has Eximius Sensilis doesn't she? Is that what the doctor told you?" Sam said stepping foward, his large frame more than a little intimidating causing Trish to step backward futher into the apartment. "You did take her to a doctor didn't you? The Indian girl never saw a doctor."
"What...what do you know about the Indian girl?" Trish's voice shook noticably when she was backed into the side of the couch she had previously napped on.
"I'm asking the questions." Sam said looming over the angry red head, only and inch from face to face. "Kendell is in a hospital...you know which one. Tell me, and I'll leave you alone."
"How...how do you know about that? How do you know she has those attacks?" Trish tried to appear braver than she was toward the large ebony skinned man. "How do you know about the Indian girl?"
"Where.Is.Kendell?" Sam's paitence was clearly growing thin as he pushed his face a half centimeter from Trish's and puncuated every word.
"Get out!" Trish yelled and pushed her hands hard into Sam's rock hard abs causing her to fall backward onto the couch, the complete opposite of what she had planned.
"Do it the damn hard way." Sam gritted his teeth and grabbed swiftly gripped both of Trish's ankles in each hand.
"What? Hey! Get off!" Trish screamed as she was suddenly pulled quickly over the arm of the couch and with a disorientating thump landed back first onto the soft shag carpetting.
"Tell me which hospital shes in." Sam ordered sternly as he rolled Trish quickly onto her front in her brief state of daze from hitting the floor and straddled the small of her back.
"Get off me! You FAAA! DonAHAH! No! GetAahaha!" Trish gritted her teeth when Sam's ten wiggling fingers dug into her blouse covered sides and lobster clawed the bottom of her soft sensitive ribs. "Stop it! AHAHA! Nogetoffmeeeheee!"
Fighting the laughter Trish slammed her arms into the carpet and dug her nails uselessly into Sam's knees. Kicking her legs into the floor there was no way to free herself, ecspecially being quickly weakened from the tickling. Sam was bigger, stronger and heavier than Trish and his fingers darted up and down her sides, along her ribs and even poked rapidly into the sides of her large blouse and bra covered breasts which ballooned out to the sides.
"Just tell me where she is." Sam said keeping his right hand lobster clawing the cackling red head's ribs while his left hand discreetly untucked her think silk blouse. "I'm telling you now, I won't stop. I will tickle you for hours. Just tell me where Kendell is."
"Hahahahno! Stopiiit! EEEhahahah! NonononaaaAHAHAH!" Trish screamed when Sam's cold hands wiggled up under her shirt onto the smooth skin of the red head's back and down onto her heaving sides. "Stopticklingeeehaa! Gaaahaha!"
Trish barley noticed but as Sam relentlessly dug his fingers higher and higher up her sexy body he also pushed the blouse higher up. More skin was becoming visible and the bald man's fingers were only getting faster. The sking of Trish's back was creamy white and every inch hopelessly sensitive. Mercilessly attacking her sides Sam cruely focused on that one spot until the red head's skin was a light shade of pink.
"Where is Kendell?" Trish wasn't ignoring Sam's questions she just simply could register in her current state as he flipped the panting girl onto her back. "Tell me and I'll leave you alone."
"Hhh hhh please hhh" Trish puffed hard for air, her cheeks red from the several non stop minutes of tickling. "stop hhh hh stop tickling...hhh"
"Stubborn girl." Sam said straddling Trish's hips and locking her wrists firmly inbetween the back of his knees as he knelt. "This could all be over."
"Hey! Get off me! Help! Help!" Trish screamed suddenly when Sam ripped open her blouse, small white buttons flying everywhere revealing two huge fleshy melons that were barley contained by a straining white bra. "You asshole! You can't do this! Heeeelp!"
"The only people home this time of day are old women who listen to their game shows with the volume too far up." Sam said guessing the truth, the only people in the building being an old woman and a yuppy artist both of which were atleast two floors away. "Just tell me where she is...and I'll stop tickling you. Thats the deal."
"...Fuck you." Trish said defyingly ignoring the question given that when Sam spoke the firey red head refused to listen and instead tried uselessly to think of ways to escape. "AAAahahah! Noaahah! YoubastaraaAHAHA!"
If Trish had any coordination what so ever she would have kicked the well built jerk square in the back but the tickling didn't just weaken her body, it weakened her rational thought. Scribbling all ten of his fingers over Trish's well toned tummy was more than enough for Sam to make the girl laugh like a mad woman. Thrasing her head from side to side the poor girl could only slam her long stocking legs into the carpet and tug at her arms but any attempt to escape was futile.
"Where is Kendell?" Sam said gripping the thin center strap of Trish's flimsy bra and ripping it easily from her large jiggling milky white breasts.
"...no, no don't...ahaha! AAAHAHAH!" Trish arched her back and shut her eyes tight when Sam's surprisingly cold hands cupped her soft melons and squeezed in quick succession only a half second after the howling red head saw her bra tossed across the room. "HAHAHA Notthere!NotheeeeheeHEEAHA!"
Trish was beside herself and not just from the tickling. The situation itself was terrible, a man she barley knew with superior strength was exploting the sensitive hottie's greatest weakness. Whilst the struggling woman had been tickled on her massive mammaries before she had never suffered the indignity and terror of being pinned down and redenderd helpless. Most men Trish had been with took momentary pleasure in playfully tickling her but no one had ever used tickling as a weapon.
A weirdly terrible feeling washed over the full lipped girl when Sam used one set of fingers to lightly dance over her large pink nipple. While his left hand cruley dug into the side of Trish's right boob, which was actually worse than the squeezing what with being to dangerously close to her soft ribs, his right was fondling her aeroela in a most unpleasently pleaset fashion. Ticklishness combind with panic, anger and now the most unwanted hint of arousal.
"How about it?" Sam asked ceasing the assault and looking and the girl who feel limp beneath him, bar her frantic gasps for air.
With no answer in the first few seconds due to heavy breathing and remaining angry giggles, the evil interrogater flipped poor Trish over once again and pivoted quickly. Straddling the small of the red head's back and facing her legs Sam grabbed the bottom of the squirming girls skirt and with a fair amount of ease tore it straight through. The once expensive skirt joined the bra as it flew uncerimoniously through the air. Now with her buttonless blouse wide open and her bottom half only in panties and stockings Trish's eyes began to tear up, but before she could even finish her first sob Sam's wiggling fingers danced over the thin panty material that covered her peach like butt.
"Noho! Noho! Nohohohoooo! Ahahah! Ahhhahaha!" Arms and legs slammed wildly into the floor as the ten fingers danced muderously on both cheeks tickling poor Trish terribly through the waffer thin cotton. "Notmybutt! ahaha pleeheehee!"
"Too bad. You should have told me where Kendell is and this never would have happened." Sam said coldly, her high pitch girlish giggles being music to his secretly experienced ears.
Bouncing breasts rolled and squished into the long fluffy carpet as the laughing girls ticklish skin began to gleam with sweat. This was exhausting, Trish had never imagined being tickled so much, let alone on her butt. It went on and on, Sam never seemed to show any mercy. Even on the odd occasion when Trish had tickled someone she had let up before sixty seconds. Heaven knows Trish used to think it were terribly cruel when she would hold her younger sisters feet in the crook of her arm and tickle the smaller sibling for thirty seconds. Her sisters begging would be the thing that triggered Trish to relent, but Sam appeared to be missing that part of his brain.
Red faced and teary eyed it wasn't just the energy drain that caused Trish's cheeks to discolour. Being stripped of her bra and skirt, her blouse ripped open and her butt tickled, this was completley humiliating. Having tears streaming down her face from being tickled wasn't exactley the single most dignified thing Trish had ever accomplished either. For a woman who was more often than not the most domineering personality in the room, and spent her school years standing up for others (even referred to as a 'cheerleader with a heart of gold' in her senior year year book) this was terribly embaressing. Reduced to nothing but a helpless little girl, a tickle toy.
"...hhh hh stop...hhh no hhhhhh" Trish desperatley sucked much needed air into her hard working lungs, the dancing fingers had stopped but a tingling remained as the sweaty half naked girl begged Sam not to remove her panties. "please...hhh hh...please no...hhh"
"How ticklish do you think your butt will be without these?" Sam teased, futher driving home the point Trish was helpless as he easily slid the pink panties along the squirming woman's long nylon clad legs and tossed them by the door. "A ticklish bare butt...kitchy kitchy..."
"No! no...no...please please..." Trish twirled messy haired head from side to side in a desperate attempt to see behind her, only seeing Sam's back it was impossible to tell when his dastly digits would tough down on her now very bare bottom. "oh please...deEEEEEYYY!"
The squeal was so loud the yuppy artist two floors up managed to only just hear it through the floor boards, although quickly dismissed it. It was terrible, Trish thrashed violently beneath Sam, the panties had masked a great deal of the red head's sensitivity and that had been bad enough. Involuntarily the giggling red head's cheeks would tense up at random showing deep dimples on the side which when squeezed caused screams of unstoppable laughter.
"You a fool you know that?" Sam words went unheard by the screaming woman beneath him who now only wore a ruined blouse and thin nylon stockings. "If you would've just told me where is...but oh no, you have be noble...well this is where nobility gets you!"
"AAAAHahahah! HahahahheeheeeEEe!" Trish switched from giggles to full blown laughter in response to whether the fingers lightly danced on her cheeks or whether Sam dug his fingers into her soft sensitive flesh and squeezed hard. "Eeeeheeeheeenoo! AAAHAHA!"
It wasn't nobility that caused Trish to avoid revealing her friends location. Trish didn't want to give Sam the answer but out of the many times he had asked the question only one of those times had actually been noticed, in her usual stubborn nature the firey red head had responded with profanity not having any idea at the time just how far the musculer tickler was willing to go to get the answer. When Sam had first started asking Trish saw no real threat, all the other times were while she was exhausted and hadn't been able to respond. Unfortunatley this was a most intense torture and the cackling butt tickled woman didn't know, if given another oppurtunity to answer, just how long she could hold out.
"I'm going to tickle you aaaall over! You hear me? Ever inch of you for hours and hours!" Sam quickly spun around and before Trish could even stop laughing managed to tear the blouse clean off and viciously lobster claw the upturned girls soft ribs. "Your just a tickle toy now! A giggly little girl thats mine for the tickling!"
Sam had read her like a book the first minute they'd met and now he used that fully to his advantage. The teasing, the taunting, it only fueled the humilation of being defeated in such an embaressing fashion. He was making her do everything, laugh, sweat, wiggle, squirm, thrash, beg, it was all beyond Trish's control. The loss of control wasn't the worst part, it was how the normally head strong red head had lost it, tickling. A childs game turned into a torture device and it worked like nothing else could.
"...please...hh hh nomore...hhhhh I canhhh I can't take it..." Her body limp as a well cooked string of spagehtti, Trish was turned onto her back, in nothing more than her thin stockings the natural red head once again begged between breaths for mercy. "this...this isn't right...hhh"
"Its a bit late for that don't you think?" Sam asked rhetorically with a sadistic look in his eye before grabbing Trish's hips and hoisting the near nude woman over his broad shoulder as he stood up, her cute tickled pink butt right next to his stern face. "You had your chance to tell me where she is...its beyond that now..."
"Please...wh-what're you going to do?" Trish ever so weakly batted barley formed fists against the powerful man's back and made a totally pathetic effort to kick her legs.
"Don't worry..." Sam said pulling a chair out from the kitchen table and dropping the poor girl square onto its hard wooden seat. "...your still going to tell me."
Flopping off the chair Trish weakly began to crawl toward the phone, paying no attention to what Sam was doing behind her. Looking over his shoulder while he rummaged around through the kitchen drawers, Sam could see the stocking clad girl crawling her way from the lino floor to the carpetted living room and smirked wickedly. After several seconds, with her hand only a half inch from the phone as she reached up from being on all fours, Trish felt a firm grip around her right ankle and with a scream the big breasted girl clawed at the carpet and knocked over the small phone table as she was dragged with ease back toward the kitchen.
"No! Let go of me! What are you doing!?" Trish whipped her head back and forth as she was sat back in the wooden dining chair, Sam holding both of her slender wrists in one of his large hands and bending her arms back over her head, the struggling girls biceps just touching the backs of her pretty ears and her elbows level with the top of her head. "Oh God NO! NO please! Don't do that! Heeelp!!"
"You tried that before." Sam grinned as he looped an orange extension cord around the screaming red heads wrists with his free hand and tied it securley to the highest railing on the back of the chair. "No ones going to save you."
"Your sick you know that! Your fucking sick!" Trish screamed as she struggled at the well tied cord that bound her hands while Sam walked around the front of her. "Let me go right now! Get off me! Stop it!"
"Don't-Ow!...Don't try and act so brave, we both know the truth." Sam said as he fought to grab ahold of Trish's left ankle, getting a kick to the stomch for his efforts before managing to grip the stocking clad foot, bring it high into the air and slam it down onto the wooden dining table. "We both know your just a helpless ticklish kitten."
With her heel being slammed onto the heavy wooden table Trish closed her eyes from the sudden pain. Gritting her teeth the consdierably weakend woman strained with all her embaressed fury to pull her arms back over her head, only resulting in sore wrists. After the effort of useless tugging Trish opened her eyes and was quick to focus on the sight in front of her. Among the items he had found in the kitchen was a roll of silver duct tape which Sam used to loop over the top of Trish's ankle, under the corner of the table and back up.
"Fuck...fuck you...you-you can't do thiiiis!" Trish sobbed her last word realising the futility of her predicament and that her brave face she tried to put on was coming off as nothing more than a silly mask.
Brief kicking resulted in Trish's other heel being struggled up onto the opposing corner of the heavy dark wood table. Before long the thrashing red heads right foot was duct taped to the other corner at the head of the rectagular structure. Sam took a step back and admired his work, the sobbing girl before him all sweaty and red cheeked with tear filled eyes totally trapped and almost totally nude. Trisha's legs spread, her feet tightly wiggling on the table where she had breakfast and dinner, her arms stretched out over her head and tied with cord behind her resulting in a taut belly, ribs, breasts and smooth underarms all totally exposed.
"Where is she?" Sam asked for what seemed the hundreth time, leaning casually on the bench, his back to the sink.
"Please...okay...okay I'm begging you...don't, don't do this to me....I'm begging you okay?" Trish cried at the fact, she was totally defeated and had finally admitted it to herself by openly begging for mercy.
"You know that does no good." Sam seemed emotionless except for his eyes which slowly hovered over every inch of Trish's sexy bound body.
"What...what are you going to do to her? To me?" Trish asked, the last piece of her question tagged on the end when she saw the rack of knives on the far end of the bench.
"Tickle." Sam answered simply and stepped foward. "That should answer both your questions. Now...answer mine."
"She...Kendell is sick...in that state-" Trish was shocked at the thought of someone actually tickling her hospitilised friend, to take advantage of such an incredible weakness.
"-I know all this." Sam interrupted taking another step foward and wiggled the fingers of his right hand in the air. "And I won't ask again."
"...St Geralds on 4th...you bastard." Trish hung her head foward with shame before lifting it back a second later, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "You'll never get her, they have security, they'll never let you just wander in and assault her."
"Oh please." Sam said as his hands flew through the air and landed squarley onto Trish's protruding ribs.
Screaming with tortured laughter, it was so much worse now. Before, under the weight of this cruel man, the tickling was bad but being restrained, totally exposed, the vunerability made it every bit worse. More embaressing, more helpless and, some how, far more ticklish than before. The thought that he intended to possibly do the same to Kendell didn't help either, but the though of him acutally getting ahold of her seemed silly and gave enough hope to not feel too guilty. Not that Trish could actually focus on that, she had problems of her own.
"HAHAHPLEEEEHEEHEE! STahahap! No!NO! AHA! Not theRAAAAGGAHAH!" Trish's voice strained as her laughter went up a notch when Sam's dancing fingers slid easily over her taught smooth underarms, a place so ticklish it was forbidden to anyone but herself. "AAAHAHA STOP STOP! AHAHAH!"
Swingy a leg over Sam sat comfortably in the angled lap of Trisha, giving himself complete access to her upper body. With her legs stretched out behind him and running up from the chair on a steady slope to the table and her bare top half tied back the former math teacher sat with his chest mere inches from Trish's. Running his hands wildly up and down her ticklish body the poor girl was kept guessing amongst her hysteria. With her arms tied up beside her head Trish couldn't even thrash her head all that much, only laugh and laugh.
"You know I was actually going to stop" Sam spoke unheard to the full lipped girl who shot her eyes open wide and clenched them shut depending on where and how he would tickle. "you just caused so much trouble I had to keep pushing...and now its just too much fun."
It didn't feel like he was moving around, it felt like his hands were everywhere at once. Digging into her large jiggling breasts, dancing on her smooth underarms, dancing inbetween her ribs and poking all over Trish's ticklish tummy. Sam was so good at it, so fast it was pure unbridled torture. Being as ticklish as this Trish couldn't begin to think what it would be like for Kendell, who the paramedics had said was so sensitive the very air would tickle her skin.
"hhhh hhh hhhh ohgodhh hhh" Trish blinked through tear blurred eyes when, after an immesureable amount of time, Sam stood up and pratically strutted toward the table. "hhhh I'll do anything hhh hh anything you want hhh hhh"
She couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth, let alone the situation. It was however the situation that caused the words that would other wise never come from between Trish's lips. As he sat up on the table and knelt between her wiggling stockinged feet the sweaty red head actually wanted him to come back and tickle her ribs, or underarms, or anywhere else. If this cruel bastard had to tickle somewhere, God let it be anywhere but her precious precious feet.
"Anything?" Sam said making himself comforable, he knelt on the table top almost perfectly in the middle with a great view of Trish's exposed womanhood. "How about I tickle your feet? Thats something."
"No...no hhh hhh Anything, anything but that...please." Trish questioned her logic, regretting the proposition as she had just shot herself in the foot, so to speak.
Saying she would do anything to not have her cute feet touched was a pratical admission of Trish's most terribly ticklish spot. The crying bound girl may aswell have put up fliers and sent out e-mails. Slowly Sam's left hand pressed his lower palm against the tops of Trish's trappped right toes, taking an eternity the little nylon covered sole was stretched as the cute button toes were pushed back. On the very threshold that bordered pain Sam stopped and gave a sly smile to his teary eyed tickle toy who pursed her lips tight and watched on with horror.
It came sooner than expected and she held her breath hard. A single finger tip, painfully slow, gliding, barley even touching. It slid along the nylon from the heel, up the arch and across the balls of her totally immoveable foot. Worst of all, it tickled with agonising sensitivy and Trish knew in her heart of hearts that Sam had only just begun. A squeak from her belly stopped at her lips which held tight but was still perfectly audible when the devil's fingers caressed under Trish's toes. Why she held on so hard, why she resisted the straining girl did not know but it wouldn't last, no one knew that better than her.
"You know" Sam began watching Trish fight the sensations as she shook her head and shut her eyes as if not wanting to witness some traumatic scene. "I can break you whenever I want..."
"NYYYAAEEEE! AHAHAH!" There was no room for words when the damn burst and five vicious digits danced across the arch through Trish's thin nylon. "AHHAHAH! AAAAAHHAHAHAH!"
The yuppy artist rolled his eyes and turned up the radio. Old Mrs Denson on the bottom floor thought there was a problem with her earing aid and fiddled with it. The squealing would have been heard among the full blown belly laughs and tickled screams had anyone else been in the entire apartment building.
Trish had never imagined ticklishness this intense. Her foot completley trapped. The poor girls mind was split down the middle and shattered with every touch, the random movements of five fingers intent on causing her the utmost torture. That is what this was after all, at the end of the day. Sam had his information, now he was simply torturing the poor girl using, of all things, tickling.
"Tell me something..." Sam said finally leaving Trish's foot alone to wiggle among the tingles that remained post-tickle. "Which do you think is more ticklish...nylon covered...or bare?"
"Hhhh hhh hh" Trish said nothing when the nylon stocking from her ankle down of the left foot was ripped away leaving it totally bare.
With one foot wrapped in its unprotective nylon shell and the other bare, both wiggled with awful anticipation of the impending doom. Trish didn't know the answer, did it even matter? Nylon or not the red head's feet were still immensley sensitive. Thinking back, her butt had been considerably more ticklish when those now torn panties were forcebly removed. Trish would have happily gone the rest of her life without knowing the answer, because there was only one sure fire way to find out.
"Tell me which is better....or should I saw worse?" The kneeling Sam said before wiggling all ten fingers and landing them quickly scribbling on a foot for each hand.
Before contact was even made Trish had totally lost it, five fingers wickedly clawing at each foot. Her bare sole wiggling front side to side and back to front as best it could with no escape, the same for her nylon covered foot which was suffering a terrible raking on the soft arch. Shoulder length red hair was practically glued to the holwing girls sweaty face which was stained with tears and producing more every second.
Trish's jaw was almost locked open, unable to close from the inhuman amount of squeals, squeaks and total tortured laughter that rushed from within. Although quite exhausted her body seemed to have more than enough energy to spare for laughter and struggling, she hated being tickled in the first place and as that man's fingers went to work minute after minute Trish hated it more and more. Alas, she could do nothing.
"...I can't...I can't..." Trish squeaked hoarse words when her mind finally began piecing itself back together, she had no idea how long the foot tickling had lasted nor how long ago it had stopped.
"Can't what? Can't wait to be tickled again?" Sam asked sliding from the side of the table and standing next to Trish's left foot. "So what was it? More ticklish on bare or nylon?"
"...I...I don't...I can't..." Her head hung, breathless Trish couldn't even string together half a sentence let alone a whole one.
Ignoring her words and not bothering to wait for the girls fractured brain to reassemble itself, Sam knelt down on the lino floor and gripped the top and sides of Trish's bare foot in both hands. Bending her toes back and spreading them as far as possible without causing pain the stretched vunerable foot was perfectly level with his head. More importantly, it was perfectly level with Sam's long wet tounge.
Trish's eyes shot open wider than ever before, her mouth opened wider still in a macarb myrth but no sound came from within. Laughter was far too tame a reaction, as was screaming, poor Trish was forced into the truly tortured realm of silent laughter. Barley back together the pieces of the nude girls brain that had gotten back together were smashed once again, and her ribs heaved. Back arching as best it could given the restraining bondage Sam's lower teeth scrapped up Trish's sole, the feeling driving her quite literally mad.
That was it, Trish had been beaten down and now she was going in the only direction possible if the tickling didn't cease. Insanity was inevitable a few more minutes and the naked girl would be eligible for a room at Bel View. Why couldn't she just faint? Why didn't he stop? Trish knew it was happening, deep in her mind she knew her thoughts were slipping but there was simply no holding on. The big breasted girls thoughts were running away like water down a drain pipe.
Not sensing his victims slip into crazy land Sam jumped back on the table and stripped began rapidly tickling both helpless feet. There was no real way of telling Trish was actually going insane, but had Sam known would he have cared? It wasn't surprising, the once promising young woman, smart, pretty, stripped of all the dignity and pride she had worked so hard to build. In a mere matter of hours Sam had tickled away everything that made the hysterical bound girl who she was. Yet, he just kept tickling.
To Be Continued...
Slipping off her red high heels the green eyed woman wiggled her cute toes inside the thin stockings and stretched out on the over stuffed couch. Flicking through the channels Trish's thoughts were focused on her unfortunate friend. Being incredibly ticklish herself the red head able to feel some semblance of sympathy for Kendell, although not really being able to imagine just how horrible being that ticklish would be. The doctor had said Kendell had become so sensitive from her last attack that even the air in her apartment had tickled her as if someone were using a feather.
Clicking the T.V off Trish proped her head up on the arm of the couch closest to the door. Resting her stockinged feet on the oppossing arm the blouse wearing twenty three year old slowly closed her eyes before drifting into a deep, deep sleep. Dreaming quietly to herself Trish was unaware of the goings on around her and before long she was woken from her peaceful slumber by a deep bass voice.
"Where is she?" Sam Lucas asked sitting in denim jeans a tight dark t-shirt, all six foot of him less than a foot away on the quaint wooden coffee table.
"The hell?!" Trish sat up startled, looking at the apartment door which was securley shut and looked undisturbed. "What are you doing in here?"
"I want to know where Kendell is." Sam said, his bald head reflecting the light a little as sat casually on the table with am eerily calm manner.
"You...get out of here." Trish said sternly as she stood up and made her way toward the door. "Kendell doesn't want to see you again idiot, shes not interested in you."
"The feeling is mutual...I have no interest in her personally...but her body..." Sam stood up, his musculer figure making Trish hesistate with a hint of fear knowing he could easily hurt her before she began unlocking the door.
"Your sick you know that? Kendell's sick and-" Trish stood back suddenly as Sam's large hand pushed the door back closed from the half inch the red head had opened it.
"She has Eximius Sensilis doesn't she? Is that what the doctor told you?" Sam said stepping foward, his large frame more than a little intimidating causing Trish to step backward futher into the apartment. "You did take her to a doctor didn't you? The Indian girl never saw a doctor."
"What...what do you know about the Indian girl?" Trish's voice shook noticably when she was backed into the side of the couch she had previously napped on.
"I'm asking the questions." Sam said looming over the angry red head, only and inch from face to face. "Kendell is in a hospital...you know which one. Tell me, and I'll leave you alone."
"How...how do you know about that? How do you know she has those attacks?" Trish tried to appear braver than she was toward the large ebony skinned man. "How do you know about the Indian girl?"
"Where.Is.Kendell?" Sam's paitence was clearly growing thin as he pushed his face a half centimeter from Trish's and puncuated every word.
"Get out!" Trish yelled and pushed her hands hard into Sam's rock hard abs causing her to fall backward onto the couch, the complete opposite of what she had planned.
"Do it the damn hard way." Sam gritted his teeth and grabbed swiftly gripped both of Trish's ankles in each hand.
"What? Hey! Get off!" Trish screamed as she was suddenly pulled quickly over the arm of the couch and with a disorientating thump landed back first onto the soft shag carpetting.
"Tell me which hospital shes in." Sam ordered sternly as he rolled Trish quickly onto her front in her brief state of daze from hitting the floor and straddled the small of her back.
"Get off me! You FAAA! DonAHAH! No! GetAahaha!" Trish gritted her teeth when Sam's ten wiggling fingers dug into her blouse covered sides and lobster clawed the bottom of her soft sensitive ribs. "Stop it! AHAHA! Nogetoffmeeeheee!"
Fighting the laughter Trish slammed her arms into the carpet and dug her nails uselessly into Sam's knees. Kicking her legs into the floor there was no way to free herself, ecspecially being quickly weakened from the tickling. Sam was bigger, stronger and heavier than Trish and his fingers darted up and down her sides, along her ribs and even poked rapidly into the sides of her large blouse and bra covered breasts which ballooned out to the sides.
"Just tell me where she is." Sam said keeping his right hand lobster clawing the cackling red head's ribs while his left hand discreetly untucked her think silk blouse. "I'm telling you now, I won't stop. I will tickle you for hours. Just tell me where Kendell is."
"Hahahahno! Stopiiit! EEEhahahah! NonononaaaAHAHAH!" Trish screamed when Sam's cold hands wiggled up under her shirt onto the smooth skin of the red head's back and down onto her heaving sides. "Stopticklingeeehaa! Gaaahaha!"
Trish barley noticed but as Sam relentlessly dug his fingers higher and higher up her sexy body he also pushed the blouse higher up. More skin was becoming visible and the bald man's fingers were only getting faster. The sking of Trish's back was creamy white and every inch hopelessly sensitive. Mercilessly attacking her sides Sam cruely focused on that one spot until the red head's skin was a light shade of pink.
"Where is Kendell?" Trish wasn't ignoring Sam's questions she just simply could register in her current state as he flipped the panting girl onto her back. "Tell me and I'll leave you alone."
"Hhh hhh please hhh" Trish puffed hard for air, her cheeks red from the several non stop minutes of tickling. "stop hhh hh stop tickling...hhh"
"Stubborn girl." Sam said straddling Trish's hips and locking her wrists firmly inbetween the back of his knees as he knelt. "This could all be over."
"Hey! Get off me! Help! Help!" Trish screamed suddenly when Sam ripped open her blouse, small white buttons flying everywhere revealing two huge fleshy melons that were barley contained by a straining white bra. "You asshole! You can't do this! Heeeelp!"
"The only people home this time of day are old women who listen to their game shows with the volume too far up." Sam said guessing the truth, the only people in the building being an old woman and a yuppy artist both of which were atleast two floors away. "Just tell me where she is...and I'll stop tickling you. Thats the deal."
"...Fuck you." Trish said defyingly ignoring the question given that when Sam spoke the firey red head refused to listen and instead tried uselessly to think of ways to escape. "AAAahahah! Noaahah! YoubastaraaAHAHA!"
If Trish had any coordination what so ever she would have kicked the well built jerk square in the back but the tickling didn't just weaken her body, it weakened her rational thought. Scribbling all ten of his fingers over Trish's well toned tummy was more than enough for Sam to make the girl laugh like a mad woman. Thrasing her head from side to side the poor girl could only slam her long stocking legs into the carpet and tug at her arms but any attempt to escape was futile.
"Where is Kendell?" Sam said gripping the thin center strap of Trish's flimsy bra and ripping it easily from her large jiggling milky white breasts.
"...no, no don't...ahaha! AAAHAHAH!" Trish arched her back and shut her eyes tight when Sam's surprisingly cold hands cupped her soft melons and squeezed in quick succession only a half second after the howling red head saw her bra tossed across the room. "HAHAHA Notthere!NotheeeeheeHEEAHA!"
Trish was beside herself and not just from the tickling. The situation itself was terrible, a man she barley knew with superior strength was exploting the sensitive hottie's greatest weakness. Whilst the struggling woman had been tickled on her massive mammaries before she had never suffered the indignity and terror of being pinned down and redenderd helpless. Most men Trish had been with took momentary pleasure in playfully tickling her but no one had ever used tickling as a weapon.
A weirdly terrible feeling washed over the full lipped girl when Sam used one set of fingers to lightly dance over her large pink nipple. While his left hand cruley dug into the side of Trish's right boob, which was actually worse than the squeezing what with being to dangerously close to her soft ribs, his right was fondling her aeroela in a most unpleasently pleaset fashion. Ticklishness combind with panic, anger and now the most unwanted hint of arousal.
"How about it?" Sam asked ceasing the assault and looking and the girl who feel limp beneath him, bar her frantic gasps for air.
With no answer in the first few seconds due to heavy breathing and remaining angry giggles, the evil interrogater flipped poor Trish over once again and pivoted quickly. Straddling the small of the red head's back and facing her legs Sam grabbed the bottom of the squirming girls skirt and with a fair amount of ease tore it straight through. The once expensive skirt joined the bra as it flew uncerimoniously through the air. Now with her buttonless blouse wide open and her bottom half only in panties and stockings Trish's eyes began to tear up, but before she could even finish her first sob Sam's wiggling fingers danced over the thin panty material that covered her peach like butt.
"Noho! Noho! Nohohohoooo! Ahahah! Ahhhahaha!" Arms and legs slammed wildly into the floor as the ten fingers danced muderously on both cheeks tickling poor Trish terribly through the waffer thin cotton. "Notmybutt! ahaha pleeheehee!"
"Too bad. You should have told me where Kendell is and this never would have happened." Sam said coldly, her high pitch girlish giggles being music to his secretly experienced ears.
Bouncing breasts rolled and squished into the long fluffy carpet as the laughing girls ticklish skin began to gleam with sweat. This was exhausting, Trish had never imagined being tickled so much, let alone on her butt. It went on and on, Sam never seemed to show any mercy. Even on the odd occasion when Trish had tickled someone she had let up before sixty seconds. Heaven knows Trish used to think it were terribly cruel when she would hold her younger sisters feet in the crook of her arm and tickle the smaller sibling for thirty seconds. Her sisters begging would be the thing that triggered Trish to relent, but Sam appeared to be missing that part of his brain.
Red faced and teary eyed it wasn't just the energy drain that caused Trish's cheeks to discolour. Being stripped of her bra and skirt, her blouse ripped open and her butt tickled, this was completley humiliating. Having tears streaming down her face from being tickled wasn't exactley the single most dignified thing Trish had ever accomplished either. For a woman who was more often than not the most domineering personality in the room, and spent her school years standing up for others (even referred to as a 'cheerleader with a heart of gold' in her senior year year book) this was terribly embaressing. Reduced to nothing but a helpless little girl, a tickle toy.
"...hhh hh stop...hhh no hhhhhh" Trish desperatley sucked much needed air into her hard working lungs, the dancing fingers had stopped but a tingling remained as the sweaty half naked girl begged Sam not to remove her panties. "please...hhh hh...please no...hhh"
"How ticklish do you think your butt will be without these?" Sam teased, futher driving home the point Trish was helpless as he easily slid the pink panties along the squirming woman's long nylon clad legs and tossed them by the door. "A ticklish bare butt...kitchy kitchy..."
"No! no...no...please please..." Trish twirled messy haired head from side to side in a desperate attempt to see behind her, only seeing Sam's back it was impossible to tell when his dastly digits would tough down on her now very bare bottom. "oh please...deEEEEEYYY!"
The squeal was so loud the yuppy artist two floors up managed to only just hear it through the floor boards, although quickly dismissed it. It was terrible, Trish thrashed violently beneath Sam, the panties had masked a great deal of the red head's sensitivity and that had been bad enough. Involuntarily the giggling red head's cheeks would tense up at random showing deep dimples on the side which when squeezed caused screams of unstoppable laughter.
"You a fool you know that?" Sam words went unheard by the screaming woman beneath him who now only wore a ruined blouse and thin nylon stockings. "If you would've just told me where is...but oh no, you have be noble...well this is where nobility gets you!"
"AAAAHahahah! HahahahheeheeeEEe!" Trish switched from giggles to full blown laughter in response to whether the fingers lightly danced on her cheeks or whether Sam dug his fingers into her soft sensitive flesh and squeezed hard. "Eeeeheeeheeenoo! AAAHAHA!"
It wasn't nobility that caused Trish to avoid revealing her friends location. Trish didn't want to give Sam the answer but out of the many times he had asked the question only one of those times had actually been noticed, in her usual stubborn nature the firey red head had responded with profanity not having any idea at the time just how far the musculer tickler was willing to go to get the answer. When Sam had first started asking Trish saw no real threat, all the other times were while she was exhausted and hadn't been able to respond. Unfortunatley this was a most intense torture and the cackling butt tickled woman didn't know, if given another oppurtunity to answer, just how long she could hold out.
"I'm going to tickle you aaaall over! You hear me? Ever inch of you for hours and hours!" Sam quickly spun around and before Trish could even stop laughing managed to tear the blouse clean off and viciously lobster claw the upturned girls soft ribs. "Your just a tickle toy now! A giggly little girl thats mine for the tickling!"
Sam had read her like a book the first minute they'd met and now he used that fully to his advantage. The teasing, the taunting, it only fueled the humilation of being defeated in such an embaressing fashion. He was making her do everything, laugh, sweat, wiggle, squirm, thrash, beg, it was all beyond Trish's control. The loss of control wasn't the worst part, it was how the normally head strong red head had lost it, tickling. A childs game turned into a torture device and it worked like nothing else could.
"...please...hh hh nomore...hhhhh I canhhh I can't take it..." Her body limp as a well cooked string of spagehtti, Trish was turned onto her back, in nothing more than her thin stockings the natural red head once again begged between breaths for mercy. "this...this isn't right...hhh"
"Its a bit late for that don't you think?" Sam asked rhetorically with a sadistic look in his eye before grabbing Trish's hips and hoisting the near nude woman over his broad shoulder as he stood up, her cute tickled pink butt right next to his stern face. "You had your chance to tell me where she is...its beyond that now..."
"Please...wh-what're you going to do?" Trish ever so weakly batted barley formed fists against the powerful man's back and made a totally pathetic effort to kick her legs.
"Don't worry..." Sam said pulling a chair out from the kitchen table and dropping the poor girl square onto its hard wooden seat. "...your still going to tell me."
Flopping off the chair Trish weakly began to crawl toward the phone, paying no attention to what Sam was doing behind her. Looking over his shoulder while he rummaged around through the kitchen drawers, Sam could see the stocking clad girl crawling her way from the lino floor to the carpetted living room and smirked wickedly. After several seconds, with her hand only a half inch from the phone as she reached up from being on all fours, Trish felt a firm grip around her right ankle and with a scream the big breasted girl clawed at the carpet and knocked over the small phone table as she was dragged with ease back toward the kitchen.
"No! Let go of me! What are you doing!?" Trish whipped her head back and forth as she was sat back in the wooden dining chair, Sam holding both of her slender wrists in one of his large hands and bending her arms back over her head, the struggling girls biceps just touching the backs of her pretty ears and her elbows level with the top of her head. "Oh God NO! NO please! Don't do that! Heeelp!!"
"You tried that before." Sam grinned as he looped an orange extension cord around the screaming red heads wrists with his free hand and tied it securley to the highest railing on the back of the chair. "No ones going to save you."
"Your sick you know that! Your fucking sick!" Trish screamed as she struggled at the well tied cord that bound her hands while Sam walked around the front of her. "Let me go right now! Get off me! Stop it!"
"Don't-Ow!...Don't try and act so brave, we both know the truth." Sam said as he fought to grab ahold of Trish's left ankle, getting a kick to the stomch for his efforts before managing to grip the stocking clad foot, bring it high into the air and slam it down onto the wooden dining table. "We both know your just a helpless ticklish kitten."
With her heel being slammed onto the heavy wooden table Trish closed her eyes from the sudden pain. Gritting her teeth the consdierably weakend woman strained with all her embaressed fury to pull her arms back over her head, only resulting in sore wrists. After the effort of useless tugging Trish opened her eyes and was quick to focus on the sight in front of her. Among the items he had found in the kitchen was a roll of silver duct tape which Sam used to loop over the top of Trish's ankle, under the corner of the table and back up.
"Fuck...fuck you...you-you can't do thiiiis!" Trish sobbed her last word realising the futility of her predicament and that her brave face she tried to put on was coming off as nothing more than a silly mask.
Brief kicking resulted in Trish's other heel being struggled up onto the opposing corner of the heavy dark wood table. Before long the thrashing red heads right foot was duct taped to the other corner at the head of the rectagular structure. Sam took a step back and admired his work, the sobbing girl before him all sweaty and red cheeked with tear filled eyes totally trapped and almost totally nude. Trisha's legs spread, her feet tightly wiggling on the table where she had breakfast and dinner, her arms stretched out over her head and tied with cord behind her resulting in a taut belly, ribs, breasts and smooth underarms all totally exposed.
"Where is she?" Sam asked for what seemed the hundreth time, leaning casually on the bench, his back to the sink.
"Please...okay...okay I'm begging you...don't, don't do this to me....I'm begging you okay?" Trish cried at the fact, she was totally defeated and had finally admitted it to herself by openly begging for mercy.
"You know that does no good." Sam seemed emotionless except for his eyes which slowly hovered over every inch of Trish's sexy bound body.
"What...what are you going to do to her? To me?" Trish asked, the last piece of her question tagged on the end when she saw the rack of knives on the far end of the bench.
"Tickle." Sam answered simply and stepped foward. "That should answer both your questions. Now...answer mine."
"She...Kendell is sick...in that state-" Trish was shocked at the thought of someone actually tickling her hospitilised friend, to take advantage of such an incredible weakness.
"-I know all this." Sam interrupted taking another step foward and wiggled the fingers of his right hand in the air. "And I won't ask again."
"...St Geralds on 4th...you bastard." Trish hung her head foward with shame before lifting it back a second later, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. "You'll never get her, they have security, they'll never let you just wander in and assault her."
"Oh please." Sam said as his hands flew through the air and landed squarley onto Trish's protruding ribs.
Screaming with tortured laughter, it was so much worse now. Before, under the weight of this cruel man, the tickling was bad but being restrained, totally exposed, the vunerability made it every bit worse. More embaressing, more helpless and, some how, far more ticklish than before. The thought that he intended to possibly do the same to Kendell didn't help either, but the though of him acutally getting ahold of her seemed silly and gave enough hope to not feel too guilty. Not that Trish could actually focus on that, she had problems of her own.
"HAHAHPLEEEEHEEHEE! STahahap! No!NO! AHA! Not theRAAAAGGAHAH!" Trish's voice strained as her laughter went up a notch when Sam's dancing fingers slid easily over her taught smooth underarms, a place so ticklish it was forbidden to anyone but herself. "AAAHAHA STOP STOP! AHAHAH!"
Swingy a leg over Sam sat comfortably in the angled lap of Trisha, giving himself complete access to her upper body. With her legs stretched out behind him and running up from the chair on a steady slope to the table and her bare top half tied back the former math teacher sat with his chest mere inches from Trish's. Running his hands wildly up and down her ticklish body the poor girl was kept guessing amongst her hysteria. With her arms tied up beside her head Trish couldn't even thrash her head all that much, only laugh and laugh.
"You know I was actually going to stop" Sam spoke unheard to the full lipped girl who shot her eyes open wide and clenched them shut depending on where and how he would tickle. "you just caused so much trouble I had to keep pushing...and now its just too much fun."
It didn't feel like he was moving around, it felt like his hands were everywhere at once. Digging into her large jiggling breasts, dancing on her smooth underarms, dancing inbetween her ribs and poking all over Trish's ticklish tummy. Sam was so good at it, so fast it was pure unbridled torture. Being as ticklish as this Trish couldn't begin to think what it would be like for Kendell, who the paramedics had said was so sensitive the very air would tickle her skin.
"hhhh hhh hhhh ohgodhh hhh" Trish blinked through tear blurred eyes when, after an immesureable amount of time, Sam stood up and pratically strutted toward the table. "hhhh I'll do anything hhh hh anything you want hhh hhh"
She couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth, let alone the situation. It was however the situation that caused the words that would other wise never come from between Trish's lips. As he sat up on the table and knelt between her wiggling stockinged feet the sweaty red head actually wanted him to come back and tickle her ribs, or underarms, or anywhere else. If this cruel bastard had to tickle somewhere, God let it be anywhere but her precious precious feet.
"Anything?" Sam said making himself comforable, he knelt on the table top almost perfectly in the middle with a great view of Trish's exposed womanhood. "How about I tickle your feet? Thats something."
"No...no hhh hhh Anything, anything but that...please." Trish questioned her logic, regretting the proposition as she had just shot herself in the foot, so to speak.
Saying she would do anything to not have her cute feet touched was a pratical admission of Trish's most terribly ticklish spot. The crying bound girl may aswell have put up fliers and sent out e-mails. Slowly Sam's left hand pressed his lower palm against the tops of Trish's trappped right toes, taking an eternity the little nylon covered sole was stretched as the cute button toes were pushed back. On the very threshold that bordered pain Sam stopped and gave a sly smile to his teary eyed tickle toy who pursed her lips tight and watched on with horror.
It came sooner than expected and she held her breath hard. A single finger tip, painfully slow, gliding, barley even touching. It slid along the nylon from the heel, up the arch and across the balls of her totally immoveable foot. Worst of all, it tickled with agonising sensitivy and Trish knew in her heart of hearts that Sam had only just begun. A squeak from her belly stopped at her lips which held tight but was still perfectly audible when the devil's fingers caressed under Trish's toes. Why she held on so hard, why she resisted the straining girl did not know but it wouldn't last, no one knew that better than her.
"You know" Sam began watching Trish fight the sensations as she shook her head and shut her eyes as if not wanting to witness some traumatic scene. "I can break you whenever I want..."
"NYYYAAEEEE! AHAHAH!" There was no room for words when the damn burst and five vicious digits danced across the arch through Trish's thin nylon. "AHHAHAH! AAAAAHHAHAHAH!"
The yuppy artist rolled his eyes and turned up the radio. Old Mrs Denson on the bottom floor thought there was a problem with her earing aid and fiddled with it. The squealing would have been heard among the full blown belly laughs and tickled screams had anyone else been in the entire apartment building.
Trish had never imagined ticklishness this intense. Her foot completley trapped. The poor girls mind was split down the middle and shattered with every touch, the random movements of five fingers intent on causing her the utmost torture. That is what this was after all, at the end of the day. Sam had his information, now he was simply torturing the poor girl using, of all things, tickling.
"Tell me something..." Sam said finally leaving Trish's foot alone to wiggle among the tingles that remained post-tickle. "Which do you think is more ticklish...nylon covered...or bare?"
"Hhhh hhh hh" Trish said nothing when the nylon stocking from her ankle down of the left foot was ripped away leaving it totally bare.
With one foot wrapped in its unprotective nylon shell and the other bare, both wiggled with awful anticipation of the impending doom. Trish didn't know the answer, did it even matter? Nylon or not the red head's feet were still immensley sensitive. Thinking back, her butt had been considerably more ticklish when those now torn panties were forcebly removed. Trish would have happily gone the rest of her life without knowing the answer, because there was only one sure fire way to find out.
"Tell me which is better....or should I saw worse?" The kneeling Sam said before wiggling all ten fingers and landing them quickly scribbling on a foot for each hand.
Before contact was even made Trish had totally lost it, five fingers wickedly clawing at each foot. Her bare sole wiggling front side to side and back to front as best it could with no escape, the same for her nylon covered foot which was suffering a terrible raking on the soft arch. Shoulder length red hair was practically glued to the holwing girls sweaty face which was stained with tears and producing more every second.
Trish's jaw was almost locked open, unable to close from the inhuman amount of squeals, squeaks and total tortured laughter that rushed from within. Although quite exhausted her body seemed to have more than enough energy to spare for laughter and struggling, she hated being tickled in the first place and as that man's fingers went to work minute after minute Trish hated it more and more. Alas, she could do nothing.
"...I can't...I can't..." Trish squeaked hoarse words when her mind finally began piecing itself back together, she had no idea how long the foot tickling had lasted nor how long ago it had stopped.
"Can't what? Can't wait to be tickled again?" Sam asked sliding from the side of the table and standing next to Trish's left foot. "So what was it? More ticklish on bare or nylon?"
"...I...I don't...I can't..." Her head hung, breathless Trish couldn't even string together half a sentence let alone a whole one.
Ignoring her words and not bothering to wait for the girls fractured brain to reassemble itself, Sam knelt down on the lino floor and gripped the top and sides of Trish's bare foot in both hands. Bending her toes back and spreading them as far as possible without causing pain the stretched vunerable foot was perfectly level with his head. More importantly, it was perfectly level with Sam's long wet tounge.
Trish's eyes shot open wider than ever before, her mouth opened wider still in a macarb myrth but no sound came from within. Laughter was far too tame a reaction, as was screaming, poor Trish was forced into the truly tortured realm of silent laughter. Barley back together the pieces of the nude girls brain that had gotten back together were smashed once again, and her ribs heaved. Back arching as best it could given the restraining bondage Sam's lower teeth scrapped up Trish's sole, the feeling driving her quite literally mad.
That was it, Trish had been beaten down and now she was going in the only direction possible if the tickling didn't cease. Insanity was inevitable a few more minutes and the naked girl would be eligible for a room at Bel View. Why couldn't she just faint? Why didn't he stop? Trish knew it was happening, deep in her mind she knew her thoughts were slipping but there was simply no holding on. The big breasted girls thoughts were running away like water down a drain pipe.
Not sensing his victims slip into crazy land Sam jumped back on the table and stripped began rapidly tickling both helpless feet. There was no real way of telling Trish was actually going insane, but had Sam known would he have cared? It wasn't surprising, the once promising young woman, smart, pretty, stripped of all the dignity and pride she had worked so hard to build. In a mere matter of hours Sam had tickled away everything that made the hysterical bound girl who she was. Yet, he just kept tickling.
To Be Continued...
