ticklishscribe
3rd Level Violet Feather
- Joined
- Apr 27, 2002
- Messages
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“Did Someone Say Right Foot?”
Inspired by Cordi90,
Written by ticklishscribe
c.
“Did someone say right foot?”
His voice was subtle but icy and clear and his tongue lightly tickled her left ear as he said it. She squealed and rocked from side to side on the mattress. Her bare left foot writhed all over as his breath not only tickled her ear but it also seemed to travel down her left side and tickle her sole as well.
She could barely see him as the lights were out and that made his shadowy figure even more menacing. Again she could feel his touch, feel his hot breath and hear the icy clinical tone in his voice, but the fact he was only a shadow to her was really unnerving. Every time he moved her eyes riveted on him as even though he was in shadow, there was something familiar about him. There was also some feint odour making itself present and she knew she had smelled it before, but couldn’t put her finger on it. She could feel herself beginning to sweat and was praying he hadn’t noticed. She suddenly felt fingers caressing her tummy and she immediately sucked it in, and heard him giggle softly. A single finger now slowly traced the centreline of her tummy, taking a few moments to circle her button before moving upward and she tried not to move.
“You’re twitching your nose, are you trying to smell something, something familiar, something you know? Yes you have been here before my sweet and when I saw you, I knew you were the one I wanted next.” I must apologize for not asking sooner, but are we comfy? I borrowed the mattress from an unused ward upstairs, as I didn’t want you lying directly on the metal table; so cold; so unfriendly; unless you were my latest autopsy.
She suddenly screamed recognizing his voice and now knowing she was in the university morgue and immediately began bucking and writhing. He giggled evilly and tweaked her nose.
“I also borrowed a back board, as they’re not only wonderful for keeping spinal damaged patients immobile, so they don’t accidentally further their injuries, but equally as wonderful for restraining victims such as yourself. Oh and I’ve been thinking of marking my favourite spots on you, so that I may return to them easier. Can you imagine instructions and notes all over your body, telling me where and how to touch you?”
She continued bucking, writhing and screaming and again he laughed back at her. The finger now reached her left armpit and it circled the outer edge. Her left arm violently writhed in its restraint and she desperately tried to move away from him, but the finger zoomed into the centre and wriggled about, causing her to scream once more and now gutturally laugh like a banshee.
“My, my, do I see sweatiness sweetness, I am pleased. And I’m glad you know where you are. You were very keen on watching me autopsy that young girl the other day, and I must ask out of shear curiosity, why you out of all the other students, were so interested in her right foot. You kept examining it up close and it puzzled me. But I’ll solve that puzzle later.
She squealed at the fact he had seen her before and how he made her skin crawl when he described the autopsy he was doing and how he slowly did everything to give her and her fellow students that full clinical view. She could see he enjoyed his job, she could see he relished in each movement and fear froze her as she wondered if he was going to autopsy her.
“Please, please, pleeeease, don’t –“
“Autopsy you?” He cut her off in mid speech. Cut you up and dissect you? That would be too easy and no fun. I have something else planned for you.
He continued to trace her armpit and then let his finger lazily trace across her neck then the other armpit then she suddenly felt him move a little away from her. Equally as suddenly a bright and focused and almost clinical light pierced the darkness and she squealed in knowing that he was wearing a surgical headband. All she could see was the light and from its direction, knew he was using it to focus on her feet.
“Ah yes these will do nicely, but first...”
She watched in horror as he got up, came and sat beside her. Reaching over he pulled a tray on wheels next to him she heard the rattling of metal on metal. His light shone on a tray and she lifted her head and saw what appeared to be surgical instruments and screamed once more and began begging again. He picked up a pair if scissors, snapped them open and closed a couple of times, nodded and giggled in approval then put them down. He lifted up a scalpel, held it straight in front of him and sighted down the blade, again nodding and giggling in approval.
“The perfect denim cutter; that is if you lay still while I’m cutting. And the scissors are perfect for panties. Are you wearing your red ones, like you wore during your last visit here?”
The fact that he had looked at her panties the last time she was here unnerved her. And now she was really unnerved that he was going to cut them off at any moment.
“The other tools you needn’t worry about, at least until I use them on you. And don’t worry my sweet; again I’m not going to autopsy you; well at least not in the conventional sense of the word.”
“Scalpel please nurse.” She screamed as he said it and she felt the cold blade under her tank top, now ever so slowly beginning to slice up the middle. The sound of the slicing of fabric was amplified ten times over and she begged him to stop. As the last of her top was cut up the centre, he reached over to the left arm of it and immediately began cutting into it. Within moments he had cut both the left and right sleeves. And she squealed and begged as he pulled it out from under her. She begged even more as he slid the scalpel inder the front of her bra and sliced it open then went for the straps. She continued to beg and plead as her bra was removed and she watched in sheer horror as his light shone on her left breast then her right.
Oh yes they’ll do nicely. And I must ask; are they erect because of wanton lust or wonton fear? It’s no matter as either way I am delighted.”
He reached out and pinched the left nipple first then the right. She squealed and rocked from side to side, now squealing again as he placed his thumbs on them and began to massage. Her already hard nipples were getting even harder from the massage and she could now feel single fingers stroking the outer sides of her breasts. She squealed again and continued rocking from side to side, but his fingers easily followed her every move. She intensely and gutturally giggled and he giggled back at her, continuing and now letting his fingers slide up into her armpits and spider about. This was pure torture and she now rocked the table once more.
She needed to find words, but her brain wouldn’t function, reeling from the tickling, being hammered repeatedly from his torturous fingers and from her now ravenous need to simply get as much air as possible. His fingers slid down her sides and she squealed and again rocked from side to side as he began pinching her ribs one at a time.
“I wonder if I played the game of piggies on your ribs like I would, and will, play on your toes. Lets see, how would it go; this little ribby went to market. Or should I replace the word market with something more appropriate; like morgue for instance.”
She squealed as his warping of the child’s game and prayed he wouldn’t do that to her. He stopped pinching her ribs spidered down her sides again but this time he spidered down past her waist and began pinching her thighs, from the tops to the knees. She shrieked and jumped, now writhing as the torturous fingers found a new and sensitive spot. He toyed with her, lightly pinching her knees to kneading her inner thighs and the wildcat was again let loose. She was now continuously squealing to gutturally giggling and he was laughing back at her under his breath. Even through her jeans the tickles were still hammering home and she could feel every pinch and knead personified.
“I wonder if your thighs are as buffy as that foot there. I think I should see don’t you?”
He reached over and began to ever so slowly unbuckle her belt and again she rocked from side and begged him to stop. Having unbuckled the belt he removed it from her altogether, tossed it on the floor behind him and then began to slowly unclasp her jeans.
“Is the zipper here a doorway to something sensual? I also think I should see this as well, don’t you?”
She squealed and he slowly began to pull the zipper down, even though she was still rocking from side to side. He then slid his hand down inside her jeans and vibrated five fingers on her womanhood and this had her rocking even more and she began begging once again.
“Very nice, but limiting the movement of my hand, so guess what has to come off.”
She screamed no as she watched him reach for a pair of scissors and she rocked from side to side even more. Moving to the foot of the bed, he approached her left leg and began to slowly cut into the cuff then slowly up the leg. She froze then immediately began violently pumping her leg as the scissors got closer and closer to her waist. Finally he was snipping up her thigh and slipping the last of the denim around her waist. This meant there war only one leg to do and he was already beginning to snip it.
“I’m wondering if I will find you as molten here as I found your nipples and I’m wondering how bad you will be for me. Because I’ve seen that when you’re good, you’re good, but when you’re bad you’re exquisite.”
She screamed suddenly now knowing that he had been watching her from somewhere, but when he had been watching her she didn’t know. The cold steel now touching her right leg brought her back to clinical and present reality and she froze, watching in horror as the scissors got closer and closer to her waist. The last snip went off like a gunshot and he then carefully placed the scissors on the tray.
“Well now, are you ready for me to see your red panties again? Well I’m going to do more than just look at them. In fact, I’ve decided rather than cut them off, I’m going to just take them off and keep them as a souvenir for under my pillow. That way I can longingly and lovingly think of you long after this.”
AFTER THIS!!! Her mind exploded and imploded as a barrage of thoughts thundered in her head. What was he going do to her after this and what was the “this” he was referring to, to begin with? Was he going to kill her or? Her mind screamed and tried to run away, but the thoughts were raining down everywhere.
Her body jerked to one side as he gripped her jeans and began pulling them out from under her. Pulling them free, he tossed them on the floor behind her.
“Do I see a moistness where I was so deliciously hoping to see one? You do please me no end. Is it a wonton moistness of lust or a wonton moistness of fear? Well, there’s no need to answer, as both will serve my purposes as I plunge you into wonton darkness. Remember that it’s always darkest before its pitch black.”
He look intently at her waist and she shook her head no and watched in horror as the evil light focused between her legs as though it were illuminating a target. He reached out a single hand and a single finger probed slowly and lightly, stroking the small wetness then suddenly stopped. He lifted his finger to his nose and sniffed it, looked at her and gutturally giggled.
“How nice of you sweetness; an extra and most delightful souvenir to go with my souvenir panties.”
He reached over to the tray and removed something long and cloth like. He proceeded to wrap it around just above her knee then began to tie it off to the board under her. She screamed as her leg was now totally immobile and again he laughed back at her then reached for another cloth. She squealed then screamed as he walked around the table and began securing her other leg. Walking back to the tray, he proceeded to pick up instruments, look at them then put them down again. She screamed again and violently tried to move her legs
The single finger returned and slowly and lightly began tracing the outer edges of her mound and she desperately tried to move away from him, but the bonds held fast and his finger was unimpeded.
It continued to slowly circle the outer edges like a vulture circles its prey and she squealed continuously. She squealed even more as the circles now slowly got smaller and smaller and she knew he was heading for her wetness once more.
“Why is it your wetness is getting bigger, I must return to the question of whether it’s a wetness born of wonton lust or wonton fear. Well… it is wonton wetness nevertheless and it pleases me no end.”
She squealed and screamed again, now begging him not to touch her any more, but the finger kept circling smaller and smaller and now touching the wetness, it began lightly short stroking, first up one side or her lips then down the other only to go back up the centre. Her feet violently flailed and writhed about and her hands clenched then opened again as she once more fought like a wildcat. Fear had taken her prisoner; fear was obliterating whatever senses she had left. The fear was cruel, sadistic and wonton in itself and she suddenly remembered him talking about a wonton darkness and how it was always darkest before it was pitch black.
“I had so much fun ever so slowly removing your sneaker, especially when you bucked writhed and asked me not to do that. And I want to compliment you on having the perfect foot for me to see when I’d completed the torturous sneaker and sock removal. I was orgasmically delighted and it got my fervid and ravenous senses boiling.”
She continued to buck, rock and writhe, squealing once more as she could still feel his hot breath as if to capture her soul and terrorize it.
“Your breathing is shallow to my ears, your skin clammy to my touch and your blood must be running cold with fear. Could it be that I have you on the edge of the edge?”
She was definitely on the edge and it made her skin crawl to know who put her there. She could feel movement and she shook all over as she felt him get off the side of the mattress. Dead silence followed and she now squirmed, trying to find out where he was. Suddenly she felt hot breath on her bare sole, squealed and writhed her foot and he giggled back at her. She squealed again and writhed her foot as she felt two lips softly kiss its big toe. Two hands now grip the writhing foot on either side and he began kissing the toe again. The kissing of led to the kissing of her second toe then her third, the forth and finally the baby toe. She squealed again, her toes splayed out then clenched tightly shut and rocked the mattress again.
“Does someone want me to kiss between her toes? I’d be delighted as my tongue is already fervidly ravenous to seek out your sensitive joints and ravage them. By the way I must tell you that I can’t wait to ever so slowly remove your other sneaker and sock, as I had so much erotic fun in doing the first one. Again you have the perfect feet, and they are driving me sensually senseless.”
Again she squealed and rocked the mattress and his kisses went on and on. She didn’t want to drive him sensually senseless, she wanted to run and hide, to escape from him and find refuge anywhere; to keep his torturous fingers and the rest of him away from her. She didn’t want to hear him telling her that she had the perfect feet as she knew that was driving him wild. Driving him wild meant driving him unpredictable and she desperately wanted to know his imminent plans so she could guard against them.
She shrieked as five fingers spidered tickled up the sole and in between her toes. She tried to writhe her foot out of his grasp, but one hand held it firm and another spider tickle followed. She shrieked once more and before she knew it, she had threatened him.
“Tch, tch, tch. Such words will cost you like the last, even though they are veiled at best as you have no hope of even the slightest bit retaliation. But I do like when you swear at me as it means that I am succeeding in tormenting you. And I definitely must mark this spot for further delicious reference.”
She screamed and began rocking the mattress, then squealed and froze as she felt him lightly kissing her toes, big toe first. Not only did he kiss but his tongue encircled the toe, lightly stroking the surface from its joint to its nail. She squealed and writhed but two hands held her foot firm and the kissing and tonguing continued.
Suddenly he stopped and she heaved for air. She tried to see what he was doing, but only shadows moved. Suddenly she felt soft cotton stretched across her sole at the heel and equally as suddenly felt it being slowly slid from side to side. The effect was immediate as she began gutturally giggling and writhing again. He buffed her sole from heel and ever so slowly on upward. She was all giggles and constant movement and he laughed back at her. The sock was murder on her sole as the cotton fabric never missed a micrometer of skin and stroked to the max. She could feel him entering her arch and she desperately tried to writhe her foot away from, but the sock surrounded her arch and she arched her back then pounded the mattress with her bum and head.
He slid the sock over the ball of her foot, but continued occasionally to lightly slide it over the edge of the arch and that made her pound the mattress even more and her giggles got even more guttural.
“Someone is on the edge I see; what are you, nine, nine and a half? In any case this foot is perfect and I can’t wait to see the right one. But that will come a little later-“
When he got to her toes, the sock not only surrounded the soft pads and the joints, but the tips of them as well and she went into convulsions and conniptions. This further intensified as he slid the sock between her big and second toes and revved up the speed of the sliding a little. Her shadow was erratically moving in all directions and this delighted him no end. He had no trouble in sliding the sock between her toes as they splayed out, creating unlimited opportunities for him.
“Oh you are buffy aren’t you; at least your foot here is. But I think I may have left little specks and traces of sock on your sole and toes and so I must remove them.”
She suddenly squealed as she felt two fingers lightly pick something off her sole and she realized that he was now picking off any lint, whether real or imaginary, that was left by her sock. The picking instantly became random with no pattern that she could get used to, and she began gutturally giggling again. He picked her heel, the ball of her foot, the instep, the arch, the soft pad under the toes, the soft pads of the toes and in between the toes and she writhed even more. She could now feel her big toe being bent back and knew that any lint left there was about to be picked off. She was not however, prepared to feel his index finger lightly but rapidly stroking where the ball meets the arch and then slowly down the midline of the arch. She froze, arched her back in the worst way then fell back thrashing and intensely gutturally giggling, to resume bucking and writhing.
“I definitely must mark this spot for future reference and return visits. You please me no end here and I intend to make the most of it. By the way, did you attend the opening of the new morgue? If not, never mind; but it’s to let you know that this one is no longer in use and so I can now play down here uninterrupted to my hearts content. And didn’t I overhear during the autopsy, you telling someone you were going away for a week. So that makes us both available and totally free of interruptions. You may not be totally free the other way, but at least no one will get in my way.”
She screamed no and began yelling for help, but her cries for help only reverberated in the room and she suddenly knew that this basement floor of the hospital was no longer in use, so no one would be coming here.
“I was just thinking; that when I need to eat, go the bathroom or get some air, I could just pop you into one of the drawers then pull you out when I come back. How secure is that? I hope you don’t suffer from claustrophobia. And speaking of air, I’ve closed all the vents, except for the ones on the roof, so no one will be able to hear us through the ventilation system.”
She screamed no and violently writhed, pulling at the restraints, bucking, twisting and turning and now begging him to set her free. He giggled back at her, walked over to the wall behind her and opened a couple of the drawer doors.
“Which drawer would you like, I’ll let you choose.” He opened several more doors then closed them again. Opening one more door he proceeded to pull out the metal slab.
She screamed no again and again he giggled back. Returning to her foot, he again began picking lint off the sole and she writhed it all over. One hand flashed out and gripped her foot and the other resumed the rapid short stroking of the arch and ball. He was now tracing the outer edges of the arch and the ball and it was driving her insane. First one direction then the opposite then back again. She didn’t know which direction he was taking untill he was taking it and that made her squeal to scream and beg even more.
“You haven’t picked your door yet; not that I intend to store you for lengthy periods of time, but in case I need a break.”
She screamed no again and bucked violently. He continued holding her foot and continued picking off the lint then resumed the stroking, only this time alternating them both in a pattern she couldn’t get used to. Her mind was reeling, her brain being hammered again and again and again. The nerve endings in her left foot were on fire as each touch seemed worse than the last and he was not letting up. She was again screaming for help, screaming for anyone to help her.
“I want to get this foot completely lint free and totally buffy before I start work on the right one. In fact I want to get all of you buffy, and if the rest of your body is as buffy as this foot, I’m going to exquisitely enjoy it.”
She creamed no, now knowing that he was going to strip her naked and play with her as he was playing with her foot.
And now… Did someone say right foot?”
She screamed as he move around to her right leg and she violently pulled and jerked at the restraint and writhed her foot. A single hand reached out and gripped the toe of her sneaker and he wriggled the foot then pulled it toward him. She screamed once more and began begging as his free hand began to tease the laces loose and once again the wildcat was let loose as she fought to keep her foot out of his grip. The hand was claw-like and firm and she could feel each tug and tease of the laces. Tug by tug, tease by tease, he was slowly getting closer to possibly winning. She screamed again as she felt him wriggle her sneaker loose and begin to pull it away from her heel first, then her sole.
“You can’t win you know. After all, didn’t I win with the left foot and didn’t you have such a laughable time as I stroked and teased it. The way you’re going on one would think that your right one is far more sensitive in every way. And dare I hope for that to be a reality.”
Her sneaker was now half off her foot and she desperately tried to shove her foot into it to keep it on, but he was holding it just enough off to keep her from doing that. Then with one pull and twist it was off and she screamed and begged more. He held it aloft for a moment then gave the inside of a sniff and tossed it on the floor
“There now, that wasn’t so bad was it? And now I can turn my attention to that striped sock of yours.”
Again a hand clamped claw-like over her toes and firmly gripped her foot and she felt a single finger slowly trace the black stripe running across her toes. She screamed and begged even more as the finger traced back again and the instantly retraced its first two paths. She squealed to scream as the finger slowly slid up one side then followed the next stripe across.
“I see after the sixth stripe the stripes get wider; does that mean that I have to stroke more than once or firmer or both?”
She screamed no as she didn’t want him stroking in any case but the stroking continued back and forth, forth and back. She never knew what direction he was going to go until he started stroking and no matter what it made her gutturally giggle loudly. He reached over to the tray and retrieved a pointed silver instrument which he then proceeded to drag over the stripes, starting again with the toes and she bucked writhed and giggled intensely. Again the stroking was in never the same directional pattern that she could get used to and she began begging for him to stop. Now he reached the wide stripes and he stroked a little firmer and more than once in the same direction, only to trail off and meander back and forth from one wide stripe to another. She had three wide stripes on her sock but they seemed like 300 as the stroking went on and on and on and she squealed and laughed constantly. The instrument was incessant in its stroking and her foot was in constant writhe as she desperately tried to wrench it free from his grip once more. She was bucking, writhing, twisting, turning and wrenching her entire body; her head and bum pounding the mattress and her constantly squealing to screaming over and over and over again.
“I must compliment you in having a foot that’s even buffy with its sock on. You do want to please."
The instrument was now imitating his finger and undertook the same strokes and patterns that his finger had done on her bare foot. She was still having one convulsion and conniption after another and he was still giggling back at her, as if to taunt her laughter. Every stripe tickled like crazy as if to turn on her and join him in her torture and torment. The instrument clattered on the metal tray and ten fingers instantaneously spidered up and down her soles. Again she screamed and violently fought the restraints and his merciless fingers. Even her sock had turned against her, let alone the stripes and it seemed to make her foot more ticklish.
“I must confess that your right foot seems to be a shade more ticklish than your left; a very large shade in fact. Could this be true and you’ve been keeping this a secret from me? If so that’s naughty of you and you must be punished. This sock looks so a-ppealing any way.”
She screamed in knowing that her sock was about to be peeled off imminently and she continued bucking and writhing. She knew that with her sock off he would find one of her worst tickle spots that she would kill to keep from being discovered. She could feel his hand, claw-like again, clamp around her heel and a single finger slide into the back of the sock and begin to pull it away from the heel and she twisted and turned and wrenched her foot even more. Feeling it off her brought an even more urgency as she knew her painfully sensitive sole was being stripped naked. She suddenly remembered him saying something about ticklerape and frantically and hysterically wondered if he was about to ticklerape her bare sole. She was loosing her voice to the screaming and laughter and wondered if she would have any voice left to even beg for him to stop, to show even the slightest shred of mercy.
“Once again such a buffy foot and so ticklish too.”
His finger stopped peeling and he now lightly and slowly traced and meandered the outer edges of her heel and the bottom half of her sole, skirting and lightly teasing the bottom edge of her tender arch. This brought further bucking, writhing and more twisting and turning and wrenching from her already overwhelmed muscles and body. A quick spider tickle made her scream again and instantly the tracing began once more. Now the finger was inside her sock once more and he was slowly peeling it up further. Her whole arch was uncovered now and she could feel the ball of her foot being stripped naked. Still another spider tickle sent her into screaming hysterics and movement and this was immediately by some nibbling which threw her totally off and into a mass of guttural giggles and pounding her head and bum along with jerking and wrenching. Not only was he nibbling now, his tongue was also stroking her arch, ball and heel and this continued to make her go wild.
“You have the buffiest arch and ball I have ever seen, tickled and tasted and I simply must compliment you.”
And with that he slowly peeled the rest of her sock off her toes one toe at a time. Then letting go of her foot he stretched the sock across it and began sliding from side to side as he had done the other one. Again the wildcat was let loose and again her screams, laughter and violent writhing, bucking and wrenching were off the scale.
“I think now I know why you were so interested in her right foot; you wanted to see just how a foot could be so ticklish? Well because I like you so much, I’ll be only too happy to assist you in your research; even whether you want me to or not. After all, I have power over you don’t I?”
He revved the sock from side to side and she screamed and gutturally laughed even more. He revved it from side to side over the heel and slowly upward, into the arch, across the instep, over the ball and again to repeat the torment and torture of her toes as he had done with her left foot. Her right foot was indeed more ticklish than her left and as the sock slid in between her toes she erupted with even more wildcat reactions and this thoroughly delighted him no end.
“This sock tool was a very good idea on my part if I may say so, don’t you think?”
She couldn’t think she could only react and rail against forces that were hammering her mercilessly. Suddenly the sock was gone, being replaced the softest kisses on her big toe, then the second and all the way to her baby toe. Now he kissed her toes at random, letting his tongue slither in between each one, tickle the joint and soft skin in between and then wrap around each one, caressing it then kissing it again. The use of his tongue immediately turned to him sucking on her big toe and she screamed again and desperately tried to clench her toes. But with his mouth around one toe the others couldn’t clench and he began tweaking them at random. The sucking was driving her insane and the tweaking was popping the cherries one by one. Again he suddenly stopped.
“This little piggy,” he lightly tweaked and twisted the big toe, “came to the morgue.”
She screamed and instantly began begging not to do that to her, to leave her toes alone, to show some mercy.
“This little second piggy came too.”
He was teasing her toes personified and her as well and she squealed to screamed and gutturally giggled, trying to form words to make him stop. But all that came out was guttural laughter and unintelligible speech.
“This little piggy got tied down AND prepared for the tickling of a lifetime.”
She tried clenching her toes again, but he already had the middle one in his grip and he was again tweaking and twisting it too.
“And this little piggy, this sensual little middle piggy was terrified of the darkness it was plunged into.”
His three fingers holding onto the toe, twisting, turning, tweaking and teasing were murder to her and she shook all over and tried begging again.
“This fourth little piggy, this cringing little piggy having one conniption and convulsion after another, is going to be lovingly tormented and tortured by me. And I’m going to take my sweet, sweet time to thoroughly enjoy every tweak, twist and tease.
Her laughter was very strained by now, her bucking, writhing and pounding of the mattress almost a blur as he continued without mercy and delighted in each move he was making.
“And this little piggy, this little baby piggy, which I have such evil plans for and the rest of you. Plans which you will learn of in time, when I see fit to get evilly informative.”
She didn’t like the words “Evilly informative” and she continued begging and trying to get free. He was pure evil and getting eviler by the minute and she was slowly loosing it, loosing her mind, her senses, and her power to fight back and now even her will. Her thoughts were instantly obliterated by fingers that spidered, skittered and scrambled from heel to toes and back. The fingers weren’t just murder, they were committing serial murder, mass murder of each and every one of her nerve endings and she wanted to scream for death to be merciful and just take her. There was no logic to his torture of her, only torture, more torture and still more torture. The only thing that made any sort of sense to her, with what little reasoning of thought she had left was that he wanted power over her and ultimate power as well. His taunting of her and laughing at her had proven that, and had proven his insatiable appetite for even more power. Ultimate power corrupts and he was ultimately corrupted and this really did have her on the edge of the edge. There was nothing between his tickling and the abyss that she would fall into. In short she was at the end or her rope and perfectly happy to let go. The worst was, that she knew that he knew it too and that gave him even more power over her.
“Even though I have you by the balls, of your feet so to speak, I feel I must “brush” up on some of my techniques.”
Suddenly she felt the bulbous tips of a hairbrush on her sole and she screamed once more and pounded the mattress so hard she was now making clanging noises on the steel below. The brush was rapidly being raked from side to side and from heel to toes and back. When it reached her arch and ball and then her toes she went ballistic and gave him even more screaming, guttural laughter with bucking, writhing and pound of the mattress.
Suddenly he stopped and she heaved for air again and tried begging him to stop, but her voice was desperately trying to recover from all the screaming and laughter. Her mind suddenly blew a circuit as she felt the brush quickly and lightly touched the tips of her right foot’s toes. She squealed again and writhed her feet all over and the brush quickly and lightly touched the ball of her foot then her arch. Now he was touching her foot at random, again to not fall into a pattern that she could get used to.
The brush was far worse then his fingers or the instrument he had used and he was using it with surgical precision, slowly tickleraping and murdering in the process. She wanted to scream for death again, but she had no voice left other than for the continuous laughter he was able to steel from her. The brush she considered hell and him, satin himself and she desperately needed her voice back to plead with him into letting her go.
He surgically picked away at her toes one toe at a time and at random. She screamed with each toe and screamed again as he revved the brush across her tender arch then the ball. This was the cruellest of torture personified and she was on the verge of letting go. She bucked, writhed, pounded the table and tried to beg, but all he did was to keep tickling. Only a few bulbous tips of the brush would meet her toe at one time and would lightly teas the areas in between the toes for good measure and this was killing her. His grip on her foot was again claw-like and she knew he was now in it for the long haul and maybe even to her death. He was pure evil and the brush was his instrument. The brush was now raking across the soft pad under her toes and her consciousness was slowly dissolving, the abyss getting closer and closer.
She heaved for air again as he stopped with the brush and her heart beat faster as she waited in fear for his next move. She wanted to beg him to release her, but all she could do is gulp for air and listen for where he was. She could hear him moving, hear him gutturally giggling and hear him picking up a tool and putting it down again. The only way she could tell where he was, was by his light, but he had turned that off some time ago and now she was straining to hear him. She screamed again as the brush flashed across her left sole then flashed twice across her right sole and flashed across the tips of her toes. The brush struck her right sole again, now with indiscriminate precision and brushed her heel again, then flashed across the instep. She squealed as the brush lightly, with only a few bulbous tips touching, meandered across her arch then meandered across the ball of her foot. Then he sped up the light touches and every few seconds or so the brush would alight and caress her foot with one stroke. He wasn’t even holding her foot now as he easily followed her writhing with more strokes. She was now a primeval and caged animal, a wildcat cornered with nowhere to go and he was not stopping his attacks by any means.
Are we having fun, I know I am, but I think it’s time for a break.
Again she heaved for air, but squealed as she felt the table she was on being moved and hearing metal against metal. She felt his hands on one side of her and on the mattress and squealed again as with one great pull she was moved to one side. Then she heard the table being moved away and she screamed as she suddenly realized she was now on/in one of the drawers. She screamed again, but it was abruptly cut short as one of her socks was stuffed into her mouth. Her screams were very much gagged by the sock as several more spider tickles were applied to her right foot and one more applied to her left as well and she writhed continuously.
“Well I’m off for a little afternoon lunch, but I’ll be back later, as I want to see how through apprehension, how ticklish I can make that right foot of yours. And I was also wondering if this table would be strong enough to support the two of us, thereby allowing me to really work with that wetness.”
Her screams were louder than ever as he slowly slid the drawer in and closed the door.
Inspired by Cordi90,
Written by ticklishscribe
c.
“Did someone say right foot?”
His voice was subtle but icy and clear and his tongue lightly tickled her left ear as he said it. She squealed and rocked from side to side on the mattress. Her bare left foot writhed all over as his breath not only tickled her ear but it also seemed to travel down her left side and tickle her sole as well.
She could barely see him as the lights were out and that made his shadowy figure even more menacing. Again she could feel his touch, feel his hot breath and hear the icy clinical tone in his voice, but the fact he was only a shadow to her was really unnerving. Every time he moved her eyes riveted on him as even though he was in shadow, there was something familiar about him. There was also some feint odour making itself present and she knew she had smelled it before, but couldn’t put her finger on it. She could feel herself beginning to sweat and was praying he hadn’t noticed. She suddenly felt fingers caressing her tummy and she immediately sucked it in, and heard him giggle softly. A single finger now slowly traced the centreline of her tummy, taking a few moments to circle her button before moving upward and she tried not to move.
“You’re twitching your nose, are you trying to smell something, something familiar, something you know? Yes you have been here before my sweet and when I saw you, I knew you were the one I wanted next.” I must apologize for not asking sooner, but are we comfy? I borrowed the mattress from an unused ward upstairs, as I didn’t want you lying directly on the metal table; so cold; so unfriendly; unless you were my latest autopsy.
She suddenly screamed recognizing his voice and now knowing she was in the university morgue and immediately began bucking and writhing. He giggled evilly and tweaked her nose.
“I also borrowed a back board, as they’re not only wonderful for keeping spinal damaged patients immobile, so they don’t accidentally further their injuries, but equally as wonderful for restraining victims such as yourself. Oh and I’ve been thinking of marking my favourite spots on you, so that I may return to them easier. Can you imagine instructions and notes all over your body, telling me where and how to touch you?”
She continued bucking, writhing and screaming and again he laughed back at her. The finger now reached her left armpit and it circled the outer edge. Her left arm violently writhed in its restraint and she desperately tried to move away from him, but the finger zoomed into the centre and wriggled about, causing her to scream once more and now gutturally laugh like a banshee.
“My, my, do I see sweatiness sweetness, I am pleased. And I’m glad you know where you are. You were very keen on watching me autopsy that young girl the other day, and I must ask out of shear curiosity, why you out of all the other students, were so interested in her right foot. You kept examining it up close and it puzzled me. But I’ll solve that puzzle later.
She squealed at the fact he had seen her before and how he made her skin crawl when he described the autopsy he was doing and how he slowly did everything to give her and her fellow students that full clinical view. She could see he enjoyed his job, she could see he relished in each movement and fear froze her as she wondered if he was going to autopsy her.
“Please, please, pleeeease, don’t –“
“Autopsy you?” He cut her off in mid speech. Cut you up and dissect you? That would be too easy and no fun. I have something else planned for you.
He continued to trace her armpit and then let his finger lazily trace across her neck then the other armpit then she suddenly felt him move a little away from her. Equally as suddenly a bright and focused and almost clinical light pierced the darkness and she squealed in knowing that he was wearing a surgical headband. All she could see was the light and from its direction, knew he was using it to focus on her feet.
“Ah yes these will do nicely, but first...”
She watched in horror as he got up, came and sat beside her. Reaching over he pulled a tray on wheels next to him she heard the rattling of metal on metal. His light shone on a tray and she lifted her head and saw what appeared to be surgical instruments and screamed once more and began begging again. He picked up a pair if scissors, snapped them open and closed a couple of times, nodded and giggled in approval then put them down. He lifted up a scalpel, held it straight in front of him and sighted down the blade, again nodding and giggling in approval.
“The perfect denim cutter; that is if you lay still while I’m cutting. And the scissors are perfect for panties. Are you wearing your red ones, like you wore during your last visit here?”
The fact that he had looked at her panties the last time she was here unnerved her. And now she was really unnerved that he was going to cut them off at any moment.
“The other tools you needn’t worry about, at least until I use them on you. And don’t worry my sweet; again I’m not going to autopsy you; well at least not in the conventional sense of the word.”
“Scalpel please nurse.” She screamed as he said it and she felt the cold blade under her tank top, now ever so slowly beginning to slice up the middle. The sound of the slicing of fabric was amplified ten times over and she begged him to stop. As the last of her top was cut up the centre, he reached over to the left arm of it and immediately began cutting into it. Within moments he had cut both the left and right sleeves. And she squealed and begged as he pulled it out from under her. She begged even more as he slid the scalpel inder the front of her bra and sliced it open then went for the straps. She continued to beg and plead as her bra was removed and she watched in sheer horror as his light shone on her left breast then her right.
Oh yes they’ll do nicely. And I must ask; are they erect because of wanton lust or wonton fear? It’s no matter as either way I am delighted.”
He reached out and pinched the left nipple first then the right. She squealed and rocked from side to side, now squealing again as he placed his thumbs on them and began to massage. Her already hard nipples were getting even harder from the massage and she could now feel single fingers stroking the outer sides of her breasts. She squealed again and continued rocking from side to side, but his fingers easily followed her every move. She intensely and gutturally giggled and he giggled back at her, continuing and now letting his fingers slide up into her armpits and spider about. This was pure torture and she now rocked the table once more.
She needed to find words, but her brain wouldn’t function, reeling from the tickling, being hammered repeatedly from his torturous fingers and from her now ravenous need to simply get as much air as possible. His fingers slid down her sides and she squealed and again rocked from side to side as he began pinching her ribs one at a time.
“I wonder if I played the game of piggies on your ribs like I would, and will, play on your toes. Lets see, how would it go; this little ribby went to market. Or should I replace the word market with something more appropriate; like morgue for instance.”
She squealed as his warping of the child’s game and prayed he wouldn’t do that to her. He stopped pinching her ribs spidered down her sides again but this time he spidered down past her waist and began pinching her thighs, from the tops to the knees. She shrieked and jumped, now writhing as the torturous fingers found a new and sensitive spot. He toyed with her, lightly pinching her knees to kneading her inner thighs and the wildcat was again let loose. She was now continuously squealing to gutturally giggling and he was laughing back at her under his breath. Even through her jeans the tickles were still hammering home and she could feel every pinch and knead personified.
“I wonder if your thighs are as buffy as that foot there. I think I should see don’t you?”
He reached over and began to ever so slowly unbuckle her belt and again she rocked from side and begged him to stop. Having unbuckled the belt he removed it from her altogether, tossed it on the floor behind him and then began to slowly unclasp her jeans.
“Is the zipper here a doorway to something sensual? I also think I should see this as well, don’t you?”
She squealed and he slowly began to pull the zipper down, even though she was still rocking from side to side. He then slid his hand down inside her jeans and vibrated five fingers on her womanhood and this had her rocking even more and she began begging once again.
“Very nice, but limiting the movement of my hand, so guess what has to come off.”
She screamed no as she watched him reach for a pair of scissors and she rocked from side to side even more. Moving to the foot of the bed, he approached her left leg and began to slowly cut into the cuff then slowly up the leg. She froze then immediately began violently pumping her leg as the scissors got closer and closer to her waist. Finally he was snipping up her thigh and slipping the last of the denim around her waist. This meant there war only one leg to do and he was already beginning to snip it.
“I’m wondering if I will find you as molten here as I found your nipples and I’m wondering how bad you will be for me. Because I’ve seen that when you’re good, you’re good, but when you’re bad you’re exquisite.”
She screamed suddenly now knowing that he had been watching her from somewhere, but when he had been watching her she didn’t know. The cold steel now touching her right leg brought her back to clinical and present reality and she froze, watching in horror as the scissors got closer and closer to her waist. The last snip went off like a gunshot and he then carefully placed the scissors on the tray.
“Well now, are you ready for me to see your red panties again? Well I’m going to do more than just look at them. In fact, I’ve decided rather than cut them off, I’m going to just take them off and keep them as a souvenir for under my pillow. That way I can longingly and lovingly think of you long after this.”
AFTER THIS!!! Her mind exploded and imploded as a barrage of thoughts thundered in her head. What was he going do to her after this and what was the “this” he was referring to, to begin with? Was he going to kill her or? Her mind screamed and tried to run away, but the thoughts were raining down everywhere.
Her body jerked to one side as he gripped her jeans and began pulling them out from under her. Pulling them free, he tossed them on the floor behind her.
“Do I see a moistness where I was so deliciously hoping to see one? You do please me no end. Is it a wonton moistness of lust or a wonton moistness of fear? Well, there’s no need to answer, as both will serve my purposes as I plunge you into wonton darkness. Remember that it’s always darkest before its pitch black.”
He look intently at her waist and she shook her head no and watched in horror as the evil light focused between her legs as though it were illuminating a target. He reached out a single hand and a single finger probed slowly and lightly, stroking the small wetness then suddenly stopped. He lifted his finger to his nose and sniffed it, looked at her and gutturally giggled.
“How nice of you sweetness; an extra and most delightful souvenir to go with my souvenir panties.”
He reached over to the tray and removed something long and cloth like. He proceeded to wrap it around just above her knee then began to tie it off to the board under her. She screamed as her leg was now totally immobile and again he laughed back at her then reached for another cloth. She squealed then screamed as he walked around the table and began securing her other leg. Walking back to the tray, he proceeded to pick up instruments, look at them then put them down again. She screamed again and violently tried to move her legs
The single finger returned and slowly and lightly began tracing the outer edges of her mound and she desperately tried to move away from him, but the bonds held fast and his finger was unimpeded.
It continued to slowly circle the outer edges like a vulture circles its prey and she squealed continuously. She squealed even more as the circles now slowly got smaller and smaller and she knew he was heading for her wetness once more.
“Why is it your wetness is getting bigger, I must return to the question of whether it’s a wetness born of wonton lust or wonton fear. Well… it is wonton wetness nevertheless and it pleases me no end.”
She squealed and screamed again, now begging him not to touch her any more, but the finger kept circling smaller and smaller and now touching the wetness, it began lightly short stroking, first up one side or her lips then down the other only to go back up the centre. Her feet violently flailed and writhed about and her hands clenched then opened again as she once more fought like a wildcat. Fear had taken her prisoner; fear was obliterating whatever senses she had left. The fear was cruel, sadistic and wonton in itself and she suddenly remembered him talking about a wonton darkness and how it was always darkest before it was pitch black.
“I had so much fun ever so slowly removing your sneaker, especially when you bucked writhed and asked me not to do that. And I want to compliment you on having the perfect foot for me to see when I’d completed the torturous sneaker and sock removal. I was orgasmically delighted and it got my fervid and ravenous senses boiling.”
She continued to buck, rock and writhe, squealing once more as she could still feel his hot breath as if to capture her soul and terrorize it.
“Your breathing is shallow to my ears, your skin clammy to my touch and your blood must be running cold with fear. Could it be that I have you on the edge of the edge?”
She was definitely on the edge and it made her skin crawl to know who put her there. She could feel movement and she shook all over as she felt him get off the side of the mattress. Dead silence followed and she now squirmed, trying to find out where he was. Suddenly she felt hot breath on her bare sole, squealed and writhed her foot and he giggled back at her. She squealed again and writhed her foot as she felt two lips softly kiss its big toe. Two hands now grip the writhing foot on either side and he began kissing the toe again. The kissing of led to the kissing of her second toe then her third, the forth and finally the baby toe. She squealed again, her toes splayed out then clenched tightly shut and rocked the mattress again.
“Does someone want me to kiss between her toes? I’d be delighted as my tongue is already fervidly ravenous to seek out your sensitive joints and ravage them. By the way I must tell you that I can’t wait to ever so slowly remove your other sneaker and sock, as I had so much erotic fun in doing the first one. Again you have the perfect feet, and they are driving me sensually senseless.”
Again she squealed and rocked the mattress and his kisses went on and on. She didn’t want to drive him sensually senseless, she wanted to run and hide, to escape from him and find refuge anywhere; to keep his torturous fingers and the rest of him away from her. She didn’t want to hear him telling her that she had the perfect feet as she knew that was driving him wild. Driving him wild meant driving him unpredictable and she desperately wanted to know his imminent plans so she could guard against them.
She shrieked as five fingers spidered tickled up the sole and in between her toes. She tried to writhe her foot out of his grasp, but one hand held it firm and another spider tickle followed. She shrieked once more and before she knew it, she had threatened him.
“Tch, tch, tch. Such words will cost you like the last, even though they are veiled at best as you have no hope of even the slightest bit retaliation. But I do like when you swear at me as it means that I am succeeding in tormenting you. And I definitely must mark this spot for further delicious reference.”
She screamed and began rocking the mattress, then squealed and froze as she felt him lightly kissing her toes, big toe first. Not only did he kiss but his tongue encircled the toe, lightly stroking the surface from its joint to its nail. She squealed and writhed but two hands held her foot firm and the kissing and tonguing continued.
Suddenly he stopped and she heaved for air. She tried to see what he was doing, but only shadows moved. Suddenly she felt soft cotton stretched across her sole at the heel and equally as suddenly felt it being slowly slid from side to side. The effect was immediate as she began gutturally giggling and writhing again. He buffed her sole from heel and ever so slowly on upward. She was all giggles and constant movement and he laughed back at her. The sock was murder on her sole as the cotton fabric never missed a micrometer of skin and stroked to the max. She could feel him entering her arch and she desperately tried to writhe her foot away from, but the sock surrounded her arch and she arched her back then pounded the mattress with her bum and head.
He slid the sock over the ball of her foot, but continued occasionally to lightly slide it over the edge of the arch and that made her pound the mattress even more and her giggles got even more guttural.
“Someone is on the edge I see; what are you, nine, nine and a half? In any case this foot is perfect and I can’t wait to see the right one. But that will come a little later-“
When he got to her toes, the sock not only surrounded the soft pads and the joints, but the tips of them as well and she went into convulsions and conniptions. This further intensified as he slid the sock between her big and second toes and revved up the speed of the sliding a little. Her shadow was erratically moving in all directions and this delighted him no end. He had no trouble in sliding the sock between her toes as they splayed out, creating unlimited opportunities for him.
“Oh you are buffy aren’t you; at least your foot here is. But I think I may have left little specks and traces of sock on your sole and toes and so I must remove them.”
She suddenly squealed as she felt two fingers lightly pick something off her sole and she realized that he was now picking off any lint, whether real or imaginary, that was left by her sock. The picking instantly became random with no pattern that she could get used to, and she began gutturally giggling again. He picked her heel, the ball of her foot, the instep, the arch, the soft pad under the toes, the soft pads of the toes and in between the toes and she writhed even more. She could now feel her big toe being bent back and knew that any lint left there was about to be picked off. She was not however, prepared to feel his index finger lightly but rapidly stroking where the ball meets the arch and then slowly down the midline of the arch. She froze, arched her back in the worst way then fell back thrashing and intensely gutturally giggling, to resume bucking and writhing.
“I definitely must mark this spot for future reference and return visits. You please me no end here and I intend to make the most of it. By the way, did you attend the opening of the new morgue? If not, never mind; but it’s to let you know that this one is no longer in use and so I can now play down here uninterrupted to my hearts content. And didn’t I overhear during the autopsy, you telling someone you were going away for a week. So that makes us both available and totally free of interruptions. You may not be totally free the other way, but at least no one will get in my way.”
She screamed no and began yelling for help, but her cries for help only reverberated in the room and she suddenly knew that this basement floor of the hospital was no longer in use, so no one would be coming here.
“I was just thinking; that when I need to eat, go the bathroom or get some air, I could just pop you into one of the drawers then pull you out when I come back. How secure is that? I hope you don’t suffer from claustrophobia. And speaking of air, I’ve closed all the vents, except for the ones on the roof, so no one will be able to hear us through the ventilation system.”
She screamed no and violently writhed, pulling at the restraints, bucking, twisting and turning and now begging him to set her free. He giggled back at her, walked over to the wall behind her and opened a couple of the drawer doors.
“Which drawer would you like, I’ll let you choose.” He opened several more doors then closed them again. Opening one more door he proceeded to pull out the metal slab.
She screamed no again and again he giggled back. Returning to her foot, he again began picking lint off the sole and she writhed it all over. One hand flashed out and gripped her foot and the other resumed the rapid short stroking of the arch and ball. He was now tracing the outer edges of the arch and the ball and it was driving her insane. First one direction then the opposite then back again. She didn’t know which direction he was taking untill he was taking it and that made her squeal to scream and beg even more.
“You haven’t picked your door yet; not that I intend to store you for lengthy periods of time, but in case I need a break.”
She screamed no again and bucked violently. He continued holding her foot and continued picking off the lint then resumed the stroking, only this time alternating them both in a pattern she couldn’t get used to. Her mind was reeling, her brain being hammered again and again and again. The nerve endings in her left foot were on fire as each touch seemed worse than the last and he was not letting up. She was again screaming for help, screaming for anyone to help her.
“I want to get this foot completely lint free and totally buffy before I start work on the right one. In fact I want to get all of you buffy, and if the rest of your body is as buffy as this foot, I’m going to exquisitely enjoy it.”
She creamed no, now knowing that he was going to strip her naked and play with her as he was playing with her foot.
And now… Did someone say right foot?”
She screamed as he move around to her right leg and she violently pulled and jerked at the restraint and writhed her foot. A single hand reached out and gripped the toe of her sneaker and he wriggled the foot then pulled it toward him. She screamed once more and began begging as his free hand began to tease the laces loose and once again the wildcat was let loose as she fought to keep her foot out of his grip. The hand was claw-like and firm and she could feel each tug and tease of the laces. Tug by tug, tease by tease, he was slowly getting closer to possibly winning. She screamed again as she felt him wriggle her sneaker loose and begin to pull it away from her heel first, then her sole.
“You can’t win you know. After all, didn’t I win with the left foot and didn’t you have such a laughable time as I stroked and teased it. The way you’re going on one would think that your right one is far more sensitive in every way. And dare I hope for that to be a reality.”
Her sneaker was now half off her foot and she desperately tried to shove her foot into it to keep it on, but he was holding it just enough off to keep her from doing that. Then with one pull and twist it was off and she screamed and begged more. He held it aloft for a moment then gave the inside of a sniff and tossed it on the floor
“There now, that wasn’t so bad was it? And now I can turn my attention to that striped sock of yours.”
Again a hand clamped claw-like over her toes and firmly gripped her foot and she felt a single finger slowly trace the black stripe running across her toes. She screamed and begged even more as the finger traced back again and the instantly retraced its first two paths. She squealed to scream as the finger slowly slid up one side then followed the next stripe across.
“I see after the sixth stripe the stripes get wider; does that mean that I have to stroke more than once or firmer or both?”
She screamed no as she didn’t want him stroking in any case but the stroking continued back and forth, forth and back. She never knew what direction he was going to go until he started stroking and no matter what it made her gutturally giggle loudly. He reached over to the tray and retrieved a pointed silver instrument which he then proceeded to drag over the stripes, starting again with the toes and she bucked writhed and giggled intensely. Again the stroking was in never the same directional pattern that she could get used to and she began begging for him to stop. Now he reached the wide stripes and he stroked a little firmer and more than once in the same direction, only to trail off and meander back and forth from one wide stripe to another. She had three wide stripes on her sock but they seemed like 300 as the stroking went on and on and on and she squealed and laughed constantly. The instrument was incessant in its stroking and her foot was in constant writhe as she desperately tried to wrench it free from his grip once more. She was bucking, writhing, twisting, turning and wrenching her entire body; her head and bum pounding the mattress and her constantly squealing to screaming over and over and over again.
“I must compliment you in having a foot that’s even buffy with its sock on. You do want to please."
The instrument was now imitating his finger and undertook the same strokes and patterns that his finger had done on her bare foot. She was still having one convulsion and conniption after another and he was still giggling back at her, as if to taunt her laughter. Every stripe tickled like crazy as if to turn on her and join him in her torture and torment. The instrument clattered on the metal tray and ten fingers instantaneously spidered up and down her soles. Again she screamed and violently fought the restraints and his merciless fingers. Even her sock had turned against her, let alone the stripes and it seemed to make her foot more ticklish.
“I must confess that your right foot seems to be a shade more ticklish than your left; a very large shade in fact. Could this be true and you’ve been keeping this a secret from me? If so that’s naughty of you and you must be punished. This sock looks so a-ppealing any way.”
She screamed in knowing that her sock was about to be peeled off imminently and she continued bucking and writhing. She knew that with her sock off he would find one of her worst tickle spots that she would kill to keep from being discovered. She could feel his hand, claw-like again, clamp around her heel and a single finger slide into the back of the sock and begin to pull it away from the heel and she twisted and turned and wrenched her foot even more. Feeling it off her brought an even more urgency as she knew her painfully sensitive sole was being stripped naked. She suddenly remembered him saying something about ticklerape and frantically and hysterically wondered if he was about to ticklerape her bare sole. She was loosing her voice to the screaming and laughter and wondered if she would have any voice left to even beg for him to stop, to show even the slightest shred of mercy.
“Once again such a buffy foot and so ticklish too.”
His finger stopped peeling and he now lightly and slowly traced and meandered the outer edges of her heel and the bottom half of her sole, skirting and lightly teasing the bottom edge of her tender arch. This brought further bucking, writhing and more twisting and turning and wrenching from her already overwhelmed muscles and body. A quick spider tickle made her scream again and instantly the tracing began once more. Now the finger was inside her sock once more and he was slowly peeling it up further. Her whole arch was uncovered now and she could feel the ball of her foot being stripped naked. Still another spider tickle sent her into screaming hysterics and movement and this was immediately by some nibbling which threw her totally off and into a mass of guttural giggles and pounding her head and bum along with jerking and wrenching. Not only was he nibbling now, his tongue was also stroking her arch, ball and heel and this continued to make her go wild.
“You have the buffiest arch and ball I have ever seen, tickled and tasted and I simply must compliment you.”
And with that he slowly peeled the rest of her sock off her toes one toe at a time. Then letting go of her foot he stretched the sock across it and began sliding from side to side as he had done the other one. Again the wildcat was let loose and again her screams, laughter and violent writhing, bucking and wrenching were off the scale.
“I think now I know why you were so interested in her right foot; you wanted to see just how a foot could be so ticklish? Well because I like you so much, I’ll be only too happy to assist you in your research; even whether you want me to or not. After all, I have power over you don’t I?”
He revved the sock from side to side and she screamed and gutturally laughed even more. He revved it from side to side over the heel and slowly upward, into the arch, across the instep, over the ball and again to repeat the torment and torture of her toes as he had done with her left foot. Her right foot was indeed more ticklish than her left and as the sock slid in between her toes she erupted with even more wildcat reactions and this thoroughly delighted him no end.
“This sock tool was a very good idea on my part if I may say so, don’t you think?”
She couldn’t think she could only react and rail against forces that were hammering her mercilessly. Suddenly the sock was gone, being replaced the softest kisses on her big toe, then the second and all the way to her baby toe. Now he kissed her toes at random, letting his tongue slither in between each one, tickle the joint and soft skin in between and then wrap around each one, caressing it then kissing it again. The use of his tongue immediately turned to him sucking on her big toe and she screamed again and desperately tried to clench her toes. But with his mouth around one toe the others couldn’t clench and he began tweaking them at random. The sucking was driving her insane and the tweaking was popping the cherries one by one. Again he suddenly stopped.
“This little piggy,” he lightly tweaked and twisted the big toe, “came to the morgue.”
She screamed and instantly began begging not to do that to her, to leave her toes alone, to show some mercy.
“This little second piggy came too.”
He was teasing her toes personified and her as well and she squealed to screamed and gutturally giggled, trying to form words to make him stop. But all that came out was guttural laughter and unintelligible speech.
“This little piggy got tied down AND prepared for the tickling of a lifetime.”
She tried clenching her toes again, but he already had the middle one in his grip and he was again tweaking and twisting it too.
“And this little piggy, this sensual little middle piggy was terrified of the darkness it was plunged into.”
His three fingers holding onto the toe, twisting, turning, tweaking and teasing were murder to her and she shook all over and tried begging again.
“This fourth little piggy, this cringing little piggy having one conniption and convulsion after another, is going to be lovingly tormented and tortured by me. And I’m going to take my sweet, sweet time to thoroughly enjoy every tweak, twist and tease.
Her laughter was very strained by now, her bucking, writhing and pounding of the mattress almost a blur as he continued without mercy and delighted in each move he was making.
“And this little piggy, this little baby piggy, which I have such evil plans for and the rest of you. Plans which you will learn of in time, when I see fit to get evilly informative.”
She didn’t like the words “Evilly informative” and she continued begging and trying to get free. He was pure evil and getting eviler by the minute and she was slowly loosing it, loosing her mind, her senses, and her power to fight back and now even her will. Her thoughts were instantly obliterated by fingers that spidered, skittered and scrambled from heel to toes and back. The fingers weren’t just murder, they were committing serial murder, mass murder of each and every one of her nerve endings and she wanted to scream for death to be merciful and just take her. There was no logic to his torture of her, only torture, more torture and still more torture. The only thing that made any sort of sense to her, with what little reasoning of thought she had left was that he wanted power over her and ultimate power as well. His taunting of her and laughing at her had proven that, and had proven his insatiable appetite for even more power. Ultimate power corrupts and he was ultimately corrupted and this really did have her on the edge of the edge. There was nothing between his tickling and the abyss that she would fall into. In short she was at the end or her rope and perfectly happy to let go. The worst was, that she knew that he knew it too and that gave him even more power over her.
“Even though I have you by the balls, of your feet so to speak, I feel I must “brush” up on some of my techniques.”
Suddenly she felt the bulbous tips of a hairbrush on her sole and she screamed once more and pounded the mattress so hard she was now making clanging noises on the steel below. The brush was rapidly being raked from side to side and from heel to toes and back. When it reached her arch and ball and then her toes she went ballistic and gave him even more screaming, guttural laughter with bucking, writhing and pound of the mattress.
Suddenly he stopped and she heaved for air again and tried begging him to stop, but her voice was desperately trying to recover from all the screaming and laughter. Her mind suddenly blew a circuit as she felt the brush quickly and lightly touched the tips of her right foot’s toes. She squealed again and writhed her feet all over and the brush quickly and lightly touched the ball of her foot then her arch. Now he was touching her foot at random, again to not fall into a pattern that she could get used to.
The brush was far worse then his fingers or the instrument he had used and he was using it with surgical precision, slowly tickleraping and murdering in the process. She wanted to scream for death again, but she had no voice left other than for the continuous laughter he was able to steel from her. The brush she considered hell and him, satin himself and she desperately needed her voice back to plead with him into letting her go.
He surgically picked away at her toes one toe at a time and at random. She screamed with each toe and screamed again as he revved the brush across her tender arch then the ball. This was the cruellest of torture personified and she was on the verge of letting go. She bucked, writhed, pounded the table and tried to beg, but all he did was to keep tickling. Only a few bulbous tips of the brush would meet her toe at one time and would lightly teas the areas in between the toes for good measure and this was killing her. His grip on her foot was again claw-like and she knew he was now in it for the long haul and maybe even to her death. He was pure evil and the brush was his instrument. The brush was now raking across the soft pad under her toes and her consciousness was slowly dissolving, the abyss getting closer and closer.
She heaved for air again as he stopped with the brush and her heart beat faster as she waited in fear for his next move. She wanted to beg him to release her, but all she could do is gulp for air and listen for where he was. She could hear him moving, hear him gutturally giggling and hear him picking up a tool and putting it down again. The only way she could tell where he was, was by his light, but he had turned that off some time ago and now she was straining to hear him. She screamed again as the brush flashed across her left sole then flashed twice across her right sole and flashed across the tips of her toes. The brush struck her right sole again, now with indiscriminate precision and brushed her heel again, then flashed across the instep. She squealed as the brush lightly, with only a few bulbous tips touching, meandered across her arch then meandered across the ball of her foot. Then he sped up the light touches and every few seconds or so the brush would alight and caress her foot with one stroke. He wasn’t even holding her foot now as he easily followed her writhing with more strokes. She was now a primeval and caged animal, a wildcat cornered with nowhere to go and he was not stopping his attacks by any means.
Are we having fun, I know I am, but I think it’s time for a break.
Again she heaved for air, but squealed as she felt the table she was on being moved and hearing metal against metal. She felt his hands on one side of her and on the mattress and squealed again as with one great pull she was moved to one side. Then she heard the table being moved away and she screamed as she suddenly realized she was now on/in one of the drawers. She screamed again, but it was abruptly cut short as one of her socks was stuffed into her mouth. Her screams were very much gagged by the sock as several more spider tickles were applied to her right foot and one more applied to her left as well and she writhed continuously.
“Well I’m off for a little afternoon lunch, but I’ll be back later, as I want to see how through apprehension, how ticklish I can make that right foot of yours. And I was also wondering if this table would be strong enough to support the two of us, thereby allowing me to really work with that wetness.”
Her screams were louder than ever as he slowly slid the drawer in and closed the door.
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