This police report file has never been revealed. You and you alone are looking at it for the first time. Needless to say, if you tell or reveal anything about this file to ANYBODY, severe consequences will ensue and frankly, we don’t want to have to clean up the mess.
Case report: 1691
10/3/16 through 6/9/17
Ongoing…
The bureau has been in charge of this case for many months now. The subject is one Optima Eisenhardt. She is 5’ 6”, in her mid twenties, very agile and extremely dangerous. She has been at large for several years but has never been caught or charged.
Norman Volsung was assigned to this case on 10/3/16. With many years of service and a flawless record, he was simply in the eyes of the bureau, the best man to crack this most elusive case and finally bring Optima to justice.
It was late at night when the call came in; a disturbance at the loading docks. One of the offices was being broken in to… again. Officer Volsung took the call. He quietly crept up on the clearly smashed in door…
“They must have wanted in pretty badly” he thought to himself as he shimmied past the partially open door. He was very careful not to touch anything and not to alert anyone as to his presence. He was really hoping that they had already come and gone. But one must not be too careful in a situation such as this. The room looked unkept. There was a lot of dust in the air that caused his flashlight to shine on various objects with a twinkling brilliance. He sniffed. There was an old smell to the place like it had been closed for years. Volsung remembered his grandmother’s attic smelling like this. It irritated his nose just a bit. He sniffed deeper, trying to get the smell out of his nose.
“Oops, have to be quiet, can’t make noise…” he thought to himself. It was so quiet in here that he wasn’t entirely sure he had actually said that out loud, or was just thinking it loudly in his mind. “Hmm. Either way…” He sniffed reflexively, twice in rapid succession. Then the daunting realization hit him like a thunderbolt. He was going to sneeze… a fraction of a second now seemed like several seconds, as his breaths began to involuntarily shudder and spasm.
“Oh God!”
He quickly tickled the roof of his mouth with the tip of his tongue. He had heard that this sometimes… some times… (sniff) some… times… *tickle* not this… hiss… He closed his eyes against his will, opened his mouth and inhaled a huge lungful of air, then expelled it with a sudden tremendous force.
“AH- CHOO!”
The noise reverberated around the room…
“DAMN…”
If he was lucky... *sniff/hitch* that would be...be...
"ah ah AHA! ahhh...Mmm shit..."
He made a valiant effort in stifling off the second wave of nasal irritation. But no... It came suddenly, worse than the initial sneeze.
"AHHH... CHOO!!! AH CHOO!! Ah AH COOOOO!"
Volsung snorted and cleared his throat, wiping his moist eyes with the index finger of each hand. Well, so much for the element of surprise. Still there was a chance. He suddenly smelled a faintly sweet odor. He initially dismissed it. After all, he had just sneezed. No telling what he had expelled… more dust likely. But no, the sweet smell quickly turned sickly, stronger, like anesthetic. Lighting fast hands reached out from behind and covered his nose and mouth. He could feel a cloth on his face… and suddenly officer Volsung went to sleep.
“Wakey, wakey…”
Norman groggily lifted his eyelids and concentrated on the voice above him.
“You’ve been asleep long enough dear boy…”
The figure above him slowly transferred from a soft blur into one of sharp focus. It was Optima, hovering just above his head.
“…and now it’s time to play.”
“Pl… play?” The word caught in his throat.
He tried to get up but couldn’t. He tilted his head down and in so doing, actually saw that he was looking up. Strange… on some sort of dentist chair. That was not the disturbing part however; he was encased in a black, rubber like material that covered everything from the neck down except for his black policeman’s shoes, which were sticking out of the mummy type casing. The other exposed area was a small opening, which his flaccid penis poked through. He looked around the room as much as his enclosure would permit. The walls were simply covered with pictures of tickling scenes, with every combination imaginable. Male on female, female on male, two females on a poor helpless naked male, and so on. Some of them were professionally done, others he was sure were done with a polaroid, and were simply blown up to portrait size. On another wall were just pictures of feet, sole shots, and popular advertisements that had bare feet in them. The other wall was a little hard to see as it was over his head, but it contained all sorts of tools for tickling; chopsticks, knitting needles, toothbrushes, gloves of different materials, satin, nylon, furry, feathers of all sizes and shapes, hairbrushes, various Wartenberg wheels. Volsung blinked incredulously, hoping that this was just a dream he was having.
“Aw, my little tickle toy… I can see that you are, only just now understanding the situation you find yourself in. I know you have been following me around. Soon everybody's going to know about your little mishap here.”
She pointed to the various video cameras strategically placed in the room.
“This is going to go out on YouTube you know…”
She circled the table as she spoke.
The little red light above the camera lens’ all came on.
“Meanwhile, you’ve been trying to catch me in the act… thinking you’re gonna, *scoffs* bring me in… Piffft.”
She snapped her fingers.
“Never… for you see…"
She pulled some things off the tool wall and stuffed them into her Dental Assistants’ gown.
“I’ve been watching you!…”
She was now standing at the foot of the examination chair.
“Most carefully…”
The light from the naked bulb above caught the glint of her dilated pupils.
“so that you never bother me again…”
She reached out at chest level and began to untie his right shoe, finally pulling it off by the heel and tossed it into a corner of the room.
“Besides… I know you policemen must abuse your feet so…"
She went to work on the other shoe and tossed it likewise, in the corner.
He was wearing the standard issue black socks… now he had wished that he had rotated them out a little more frequently… She brought her face in close and sniffed. It had a perspirant odor, slightly acidic, somewhat smelly. She rubbed her cheek across his less than clean socks, sniffing all the while. This was a new experience for him… He looked down, past his penis which was still drooping… “ok, good” he thought. I just have to let her have her little fetish sniffing thing. No problem…
Finally she slowly pulled the socks off a tossed those into the dim recesses of the room. The cool air felt nice against his bare feet and he wanted to wiggle his toes, but decided not to.
“How cute…”
The sight of his slight dirty bare feet inexplicably captivated her. She was extremely turned on right now, and wanted to fondle his naked feet right there and then.
“…and how small are those, about a seven?”
He wore a men’s size seven exactly, and was shocked and very concerned that she had guessed correctly. He felt her gently stroking the tops of his feet with her fingertips. His confinement made the situation more dire and sensitive as he could not help but to giggle as silently as he could manage. He closed his eyes and willed that his concentration be somewhere else. She began to tease his soles, exploring and taking mental notes of where specific areas made his feet jerk. Norman thrashed around in his mummy wrappings, in a last ditch effort to escape the ticklish torment, but his inclosure was most unforgiving. His giggles escalated into a steady stream of laughter. This went on for a while and just as he found himself gasping for air, he felt a wetness between his toes. She was kissing and licking his toes. The conflict of tickle sensation forced the erotic half to the surface as his laughter gradually changed into moaning giggles.
“Oh, you like that do you…”
She looked up and noticed that his penis had begun to tumescent from it previous state. It was now clearly pointing towards his face, though still resting against the rubber like material.
“We shall have to take care of that… later. I’m having too much fun playing with your feet right now though.”
She reached into a pocket and pulled out a toes spacer.
“I think you might like this…”
She slipped the toes into the curved sections of the device as she talked.
“It will help me get in between those cute toes of yours…”
His eyes grew wide as she spoke. This was getting out of hand and was clearly more than a casual foot/tickle infatuation. He tried to deflect the situation, downplay it somehow.
“Now look Optima…”
He checked the tone of his voice, making it as soothing as he possibly could.
“Optima…honey… there is simply no need to…”
He never finished the sentence. The ticklishness tripled with intensity as he could now feel her tongue gliding effortlessly in between his spread toes. It had the effect of an electric shock and he immediately began to laugh more urgently than before. She purred and cooed as her wet tongue searched and probed, tasting the newly unrestricted area. His penis twitched up off the surface of the restraint, nearly fully erect now. It involuntarily bobbed up and down, touching the case occasionally… but Norman was too busy laughing and moaning to take much notice of this. However, Optima DID notice.
“Aw baby, are we getting horny? I know that I promised you some relief, but I think it’s a bad idea to focus on your ‘manhood’ right now.”
He groaned unconsciously, aware that if this had gone on just a bit longer, he would have come.
“Besides…” she winked, “I know how you love orgasm denial.”
He whimpered and sniffed silently to himself as his penis slowly lost its rigidity. He watched as she fumbled in her pocket again. She pulled out a rather small ostrich feather.
“Now let’s have some fun, shall we?”
She brushed the feather over the palm of her hand.
“Your soles are dirty, you know… and I have a little method for cleaning them up a bit…”
She grinned like a Cheshire Cat.
“…though it might take a while. But as you know, we can’t rush into things such as this.”
Optima waved the ostrich feather over this parallel soles. It was so soft to the touch in fact, that at first, he had barely noticed. She moved the feather in deeper, more aggressively as though it were an ice scraper, and she was trying to scrape some ice off an automobile window. He immediately began to giggle and squirm.
“There we are! How about that my little ticklish boy?”
He simply hated being talked down to in this fashion, but the feather tickled so badly as it crisscrossed his helpless soles that he couldn’t articulate any meaningful objections. He tried to wiggle his toes, but the spreader was still on. He tried to flex his feet away, but they were tightly bound together, side by side. All he could do was to ‘take it’ and laugh hysterically. After several minutes of this she looked down at him and said, “See? I just KNEW you were going to like this!” Even though she had stopped tickling him for the moment, the reaction was not immediate and he gradually went from continual laughter, to intermittent giggles, then to deep breaths of air. He was then able to speak.
“You’d better let me out right now! This isn’t funny.”
“Well, you seem to think so. You’re laughing your arse off…”
“I can’t help that! You’re MAKING me laugh!”
“And I’m hardly finished making you laugh my dear boy, in fact, I’ve only JUST started!”
“Oh no you don’t!”
She tossed the ostrich feather over her shoulder and reached into her pocket again. The discarded feather slowly rocked back and forth as it floated down to the floor. He saw that she had pulled out an artist’s brush. It was fairly thick, but had a nice point to the end, as though it were never ‘used’… well, for painting anyway… She looked at his slightly less dirty soles now, and pondered what area’s to tickle first. God, just looking at his helpless soles made her SO horny! She wondered if tickling him, seeing those bare soles confined like that, hearing him laugh like that, might not trigger an orgasm for her as well.
This time Norman vowed to himself not to give her any satisfaction. He clamped his teeth down very hard. He was not going to laugh this time. Not going to…
Optima slowly painted an invisible line right down the middle of his right sole, from toe to heel, then back up again. Norman growled and bucked, partially out of frustration and partially out of surprise over the intensity of the overwhelming stimulus. She then proceeded to trace over his many crease lines. He could feel himself failing to hold back the laughter. It tickled too much! She went to work on the balls of this feet, swishing the artist’s brush back and forth, just below the area. Norman coughed out a giggle… he checked himself… another giggle. Optima was just too damn efficient and Norman was just too damn ticklish. She reached in with the brush and began to stroke in between his toes, as though she were painting them. Norman finally lost the valiant effort and laughed hysterically like the village idiot. This was simply and emphatically music to Optima’s ears… she felt herself becoming lost in his helplessness as she continued tickling him in various places. It didn’t seem to matter where the brush touched, the reaction to him was totally devastating. She felt that familiar tightening in her vagina… she dropped the brush and quickly willed the sensation away. “That was close” she thought to herself. Maybe a change of motivation was required; for the both of them.
She glanced down the length of his confined body. The black latex caught the light of the dim room and made the mummy casing look smooth and shiny… all except the smallish protuberance on top, roughly in the middle. She walked over to this spot for a closer inspection as he fought to break the cycle of ongoing laughter. His penis was now semi erect, the head not quite touching the enclosure. Clearly he was enjoying all of this on another level entirely, but yet, nearly the same as herself. Optima couldn’t help but smile, she loved exposing weakness and exploiting involuntary reactions. She would merge the two type of tickle (pleasurable and sexual) through orgasm denial and then he would be her little tickle toy forever. She waited, watching the penis relax while his laughter dwindled down to a chuckle, then to an intermittent giggle. She now could talk to him and he would be somewhat more coherent.
“I see that you are enjoying this as well,” She smirked, “you naughty boy.”
Norman felt his face burn with shame. He was so occupied at trying to control his laughter that he had quite forgotten that his manhood was even exposed, let alone in an excited state.
“I can’t help that, you’re making it happen… you know I have no control over…”
If he could've he would have put a hand over his mouth. He fell right into her trap, told her exactly what she wanted to hear. She laughed at his sudden realization, his grand faux pas. His mind raced… some way to recover his status. He then knew that he was being ‘broken down’ manipulated, debased, stripped layer by layer as you might peal an onion. It was already happening, and there was not a blessed thing he could do about it. He then knew before it was all over he would have a tickle fetish, and be her tickle slave for all of time. The thought scared him. This was one of those defining moments that seems to happen in several seconds to the observer, but feels like an eternity to the one affected. He was barely aware that she had now pulled another feather out of her pocket, a rather smaller one this time, a common sized feather that might service an ordinary bird in the park. It was a flight feather, that is to say, it was one of the feathers that actually helped the bird to fly. Being as such, it had a nice pointed tip to the end. His eyes grew wide… “No… not that… please…”
Did he just say that, or was it his sub-conscience, screaming at him? No matter… She fanned his testicles with the middle part of the vane. His penis jerked for attention. Norman giggled and was surprised that this tickled as much as it did. Perhaps it was just a by-product of all the previous foot tickling? The barbs of the feather gave and were pliable against his wrinkled skin, which miraculously became taught in just a matter of seconds. Then she used the feather’s tip and drew a thin tickly line up the bottom ridge of this flaccid penis. The reaction was like dropping a cube of ice down one’s back, sudden and traumatic. After a few passes up and down, the length nearly doubled and Norman began to unconsciously moan with pleasure. He was torn between giggling and moaning as the feather’s tip glided over the bottom of his erecting cock. Now in full erection, his cock curved over back on itself, with no part touching the mummy case. She took some time at the head and tickled the place where the ‘skin’ ends. (for he was circumcised) This of course was the sweet spot and soon she spotted a drop of pre-cum, coming out of the head. She dipped the feather’s tip in and began to spread the clear liquid around. His moans suddenly became more urgent and she quickly took her thumb and index finger, and clamped the base of the head with firm pressure. The trick worked perfectly and the impending orgasm was neatly thwarted. Norman groaned and Optima laughed.
“Haha…You’re so easy to work with! Do you know that?”
Norman was getting really pissed off now, but what could he do? He had absolutely no control over the situation and all he could do was basically laugh and occasionally moan, which contradicted his true intentions. He hadn’t the time nor the power to do anything else. His body wouldn’t let him. The little red lights on the cameras were still on. She walked back to his bare feet. She lightly stroked the balls of his feet with her long fingernails as she began to lick up and down the middle of his smooth soles. Norman went crazy and laughed manically. His penis shot back up into its full erect state, as though it didn’t want to be left out of the equation … Optima was really lost in the moment this time as she fondled and licked his helpless soles.
She spent the next several hours sadistically tickling his feet, and each time as he was about to come, she would stop until the threat of orgasm abated. Sometimes she would tickle and torment his cock instead, always just stopping short of any sexual gratification. She was teaching him, whether he knew it or not. She was engraining a new fetish into his psyche… a foot/tickle fetish. Within the last 30 minutes or so of this session, she could have brought him to orgasm just by tickling his feet… if she had wanted. He would have not believed it possible. Classic Pavlovian Dog Syndrome. Just saying the word “tickle” would set his penis to twitching. With his new fetish now firmly ensconced, she let him orgasm… finally. She was tickling his feet with a hairbrush when it happened. The insane laughing and moaning intertwined, slowly fused and bit by bit the moaning took over… became more and more urgent. Sure it tickled just as badly… worse in fact than before. His mind sought refuge in the only place made available to him… in blissful sexual release.
The laugher grew with a terrific crescendo. The hairbrush, scrubbing away at his reddened soles. She knew what was happening… she too could feel the sexual urge that could not be held back any longer… she fought to continue, to bring him to orgasm through tickling alone. It was finally happening… it was like she was tickling herself… many years ago… when this was done to her. Terrific muscle spasms in a duet of sexual release. Milky cum, contrasting nicely against the black glistening rubber cocoon. Splattering around his chest, nearly hitting himself in the face. Hitched breaths from Optima, as the hairbrush slipped from her fingertips and banged on the floor.
————
She looked up from the case file, which was still neatly cradled in her hands. Volsung was, now and forever, her little bit of tickle toy. Optima smiled with much satisfaction over this. She carefully folded the other pages over the last page, went over to the police office copier, and fed the pages into it. She slipped the copies into her blouse and inserted the originals back into the Manila folder. This was placed back into the bag, and then back into the police vault, where all the important case files were kept. Optima closed the safe, twisted the combination knob and jumbled the tumblers back into a random setting. She turned around on her heels, stood up, and walked out into the darkness outside.
Case report: 1691
10/3/16 through 6/9/17
Ongoing…
The bureau has been in charge of this case for many months now. The subject is one Optima Eisenhardt. She is 5’ 6”, in her mid twenties, very agile and extremely dangerous. She has been at large for several years but has never been caught or charged.
Norman Volsung was assigned to this case on 10/3/16. With many years of service and a flawless record, he was simply in the eyes of the bureau, the best man to crack this most elusive case and finally bring Optima to justice.
It was late at night when the call came in; a disturbance at the loading docks. One of the offices was being broken in to… again. Officer Volsung took the call. He quietly crept up on the clearly smashed in door…
“They must have wanted in pretty badly” he thought to himself as he shimmied past the partially open door. He was very careful not to touch anything and not to alert anyone as to his presence. He was really hoping that they had already come and gone. But one must not be too careful in a situation such as this. The room looked unkept. There was a lot of dust in the air that caused his flashlight to shine on various objects with a twinkling brilliance. He sniffed. There was an old smell to the place like it had been closed for years. Volsung remembered his grandmother’s attic smelling like this. It irritated his nose just a bit. He sniffed deeper, trying to get the smell out of his nose.
“Oops, have to be quiet, can’t make noise…” he thought to himself. It was so quiet in here that he wasn’t entirely sure he had actually said that out loud, or was just thinking it loudly in his mind. “Hmm. Either way…” He sniffed reflexively, twice in rapid succession. Then the daunting realization hit him like a thunderbolt. He was going to sneeze… a fraction of a second now seemed like several seconds, as his breaths began to involuntarily shudder and spasm.
“Oh God!”
He quickly tickled the roof of his mouth with the tip of his tongue. He had heard that this sometimes… some times… (sniff) some… times… *tickle* not this… hiss… He closed his eyes against his will, opened his mouth and inhaled a huge lungful of air, then expelled it with a sudden tremendous force.
“AH- CHOO!”
The noise reverberated around the room…
“DAMN…”
If he was lucky... *sniff/hitch* that would be...be...
"ah ah AHA! ahhh...Mmm shit..."
He made a valiant effort in stifling off the second wave of nasal irritation. But no... It came suddenly, worse than the initial sneeze.
"AHHH... CHOO!!! AH CHOO!! Ah AH COOOOO!"
Volsung snorted and cleared his throat, wiping his moist eyes with the index finger of each hand. Well, so much for the element of surprise. Still there was a chance. He suddenly smelled a faintly sweet odor. He initially dismissed it. After all, he had just sneezed. No telling what he had expelled… more dust likely. But no, the sweet smell quickly turned sickly, stronger, like anesthetic. Lighting fast hands reached out from behind and covered his nose and mouth. He could feel a cloth on his face… and suddenly officer Volsung went to sleep.
“Wakey, wakey…”
Norman groggily lifted his eyelids and concentrated on the voice above him.
“You’ve been asleep long enough dear boy…”
The figure above him slowly transferred from a soft blur into one of sharp focus. It was Optima, hovering just above his head.
“…and now it’s time to play.”
“Pl… play?” The word caught in his throat.
He tried to get up but couldn’t. He tilted his head down and in so doing, actually saw that he was looking up. Strange… on some sort of dentist chair. That was not the disturbing part however; he was encased in a black, rubber like material that covered everything from the neck down except for his black policeman’s shoes, which were sticking out of the mummy type casing. The other exposed area was a small opening, which his flaccid penis poked through. He looked around the room as much as his enclosure would permit. The walls were simply covered with pictures of tickling scenes, with every combination imaginable. Male on female, female on male, two females on a poor helpless naked male, and so on. Some of them were professionally done, others he was sure were done with a polaroid, and were simply blown up to portrait size. On another wall were just pictures of feet, sole shots, and popular advertisements that had bare feet in them. The other wall was a little hard to see as it was over his head, but it contained all sorts of tools for tickling; chopsticks, knitting needles, toothbrushes, gloves of different materials, satin, nylon, furry, feathers of all sizes and shapes, hairbrushes, various Wartenberg wheels. Volsung blinked incredulously, hoping that this was just a dream he was having.
“Aw, my little tickle toy… I can see that you are, only just now understanding the situation you find yourself in. I know you have been following me around. Soon everybody's going to know about your little mishap here.”
She pointed to the various video cameras strategically placed in the room.
“This is going to go out on YouTube you know…”
She circled the table as she spoke.
The little red light above the camera lens’ all came on.
“Meanwhile, you’ve been trying to catch me in the act… thinking you’re gonna, *scoffs* bring me in… Piffft.”
She snapped her fingers.
“Never… for you see…"
She pulled some things off the tool wall and stuffed them into her Dental Assistants’ gown.
“I’ve been watching you!…”
She was now standing at the foot of the examination chair.
“Most carefully…”
The light from the naked bulb above caught the glint of her dilated pupils.
“so that you never bother me again…”
She reached out at chest level and began to untie his right shoe, finally pulling it off by the heel and tossed it into a corner of the room.
“Besides… I know you policemen must abuse your feet so…"
She went to work on the other shoe and tossed it likewise, in the corner.
He was wearing the standard issue black socks… now he had wished that he had rotated them out a little more frequently… She brought her face in close and sniffed. It had a perspirant odor, slightly acidic, somewhat smelly. She rubbed her cheek across his less than clean socks, sniffing all the while. This was a new experience for him… He looked down, past his penis which was still drooping… “ok, good” he thought. I just have to let her have her little fetish sniffing thing. No problem…
Finally she slowly pulled the socks off a tossed those into the dim recesses of the room. The cool air felt nice against his bare feet and he wanted to wiggle his toes, but decided not to.
“How cute…”
The sight of his slight dirty bare feet inexplicably captivated her. She was extremely turned on right now, and wanted to fondle his naked feet right there and then.
“…and how small are those, about a seven?”
He wore a men’s size seven exactly, and was shocked and very concerned that she had guessed correctly. He felt her gently stroking the tops of his feet with her fingertips. His confinement made the situation more dire and sensitive as he could not help but to giggle as silently as he could manage. He closed his eyes and willed that his concentration be somewhere else. She began to tease his soles, exploring and taking mental notes of where specific areas made his feet jerk. Norman thrashed around in his mummy wrappings, in a last ditch effort to escape the ticklish torment, but his inclosure was most unforgiving. His giggles escalated into a steady stream of laughter. This went on for a while and just as he found himself gasping for air, he felt a wetness between his toes. She was kissing and licking his toes. The conflict of tickle sensation forced the erotic half to the surface as his laughter gradually changed into moaning giggles.
“Oh, you like that do you…”
She looked up and noticed that his penis had begun to tumescent from it previous state. It was now clearly pointing towards his face, though still resting against the rubber like material.
“We shall have to take care of that… later. I’m having too much fun playing with your feet right now though.”
She reached into a pocket and pulled out a toes spacer.
“I think you might like this…”
She slipped the toes into the curved sections of the device as she talked.
“It will help me get in between those cute toes of yours…”
His eyes grew wide as she spoke. This was getting out of hand and was clearly more than a casual foot/tickle infatuation. He tried to deflect the situation, downplay it somehow.
“Now look Optima…”
He checked the tone of his voice, making it as soothing as he possibly could.
“Optima…honey… there is simply no need to…”
He never finished the sentence. The ticklishness tripled with intensity as he could now feel her tongue gliding effortlessly in between his spread toes. It had the effect of an electric shock and he immediately began to laugh more urgently than before. She purred and cooed as her wet tongue searched and probed, tasting the newly unrestricted area. His penis twitched up off the surface of the restraint, nearly fully erect now. It involuntarily bobbed up and down, touching the case occasionally… but Norman was too busy laughing and moaning to take much notice of this. However, Optima DID notice.
“Aw baby, are we getting horny? I know that I promised you some relief, but I think it’s a bad idea to focus on your ‘manhood’ right now.”
He groaned unconsciously, aware that if this had gone on just a bit longer, he would have come.
“Besides…” she winked, “I know how you love orgasm denial.”
He whimpered and sniffed silently to himself as his penis slowly lost its rigidity. He watched as she fumbled in her pocket again. She pulled out a rather small ostrich feather.
“Now let’s have some fun, shall we?”
She brushed the feather over the palm of her hand.
“Your soles are dirty, you know… and I have a little method for cleaning them up a bit…”
She grinned like a Cheshire Cat.
“…though it might take a while. But as you know, we can’t rush into things such as this.”
Optima waved the ostrich feather over this parallel soles. It was so soft to the touch in fact, that at first, he had barely noticed. She moved the feather in deeper, more aggressively as though it were an ice scraper, and she was trying to scrape some ice off an automobile window. He immediately began to giggle and squirm.
“There we are! How about that my little ticklish boy?”
He simply hated being talked down to in this fashion, but the feather tickled so badly as it crisscrossed his helpless soles that he couldn’t articulate any meaningful objections. He tried to wiggle his toes, but the spreader was still on. He tried to flex his feet away, but they were tightly bound together, side by side. All he could do was to ‘take it’ and laugh hysterically. After several minutes of this she looked down at him and said, “See? I just KNEW you were going to like this!” Even though she had stopped tickling him for the moment, the reaction was not immediate and he gradually went from continual laughter, to intermittent giggles, then to deep breaths of air. He was then able to speak.
“You’d better let me out right now! This isn’t funny.”
“Well, you seem to think so. You’re laughing your arse off…”
“I can’t help that! You’re MAKING me laugh!”
“And I’m hardly finished making you laugh my dear boy, in fact, I’ve only JUST started!”
“Oh no you don’t!”
She tossed the ostrich feather over her shoulder and reached into her pocket again. The discarded feather slowly rocked back and forth as it floated down to the floor. He saw that she had pulled out an artist’s brush. It was fairly thick, but had a nice point to the end, as though it were never ‘used’… well, for painting anyway… She looked at his slightly less dirty soles now, and pondered what area’s to tickle first. God, just looking at his helpless soles made her SO horny! She wondered if tickling him, seeing those bare soles confined like that, hearing him laugh like that, might not trigger an orgasm for her as well.
This time Norman vowed to himself not to give her any satisfaction. He clamped his teeth down very hard. He was not going to laugh this time. Not going to…
Optima slowly painted an invisible line right down the middle of his right sole, from toe to heel, then back up again. Norman growled and bucked, partially out of frustration and partially out of surprise over the intensity of the overwhelming stimulus. She then proceeded to trace over his many crease lines. He could feel himself failing to hold back the laughter. It tickled too much! She went to work on the balls of this feet, swishing the artist’s brush back and forth, just below the area. Norman coughed out a giggle… he checked himself… another giggle. Optima was just too damn efficient and Norman was just too damn ticklish. She reached in with the brush and began to stroke in between his toes, as though she were painting them. Norman finally lost the valiant effort and laughed hysterically like the village idiot. This was simply and emphatically music to Optima’s ears… she felt herself becoming lost in his helplessness as she continued tickling him in various places. It didn’t seem to matter where the brush touched, the reaction to him was totally devastating. She felt that familiar tightening in her vagina… she dropped the brush and quickly willed the sensation away. “That was close” she thought to herself. Maybe a change of motivation was required; for the both of them.
She glanced down the length of his confined body. The black latex caught the light of the dim room and made the mummy casing look smooth and shiny… all except the smallish protuberance on top, roughly in the middle. She walked over to this spot for a closer inspection as he fought to break the cycle of ongoing laughter. His penis was now semi erect, the head not quite touching the enclosure. Clearly he was enjoying all of this on another level entirely, but yet, nearly the same as herself. Optima couldn’t help but smile, she loved exposing weakness and exploiting involuntary reactions. She would merge the two type of tickle (pleasurable and sexual) through orgasm denial and then he would be her little tickle toy forever. She waited, watching the penis relax while his laughter dwindled down to a chuckle, then to an intermittent giggle. She now could talk to him and he would be somewhat more coherent.
“I see that you are enjoying this as well,” She smirked, “you naughty boy.”
Norman felt his face burn with shame. He was so occupied at trying to control his laughter that he had quite forgotten that his manhood was even exposed, let alone in an excited state.
“I can’t help that, you’re making it happen… you know I have no control over…”
If he could've he would have put a hand over his mouth. He fell right into her trap, told her exactly what she wanted to hear. She laughed at his sudden realization, his grand faux pas. His mind raced… some way to recover his status. He then knew that he was being ‘broken down’ manipulated, debased, stripped layer by layer as you might peal an onion. It was already happening, and there was not a blessed thing he could do about it. He then knew before it was all over he would have a tickle fetish, and be her tickle slave for all of time. The thought scared him. This was one of those defining moments that seems to happen in several seconds to the observer, but feels like an eternity to the one affected. He was barely aware that she had now pulled another feather out of her pocket, a rather smaller one this time, a common sized feather that might service an ordinary bird in the park. It was a flight feather, that is to say, it was one of the feathers that actually helped the bird to fly. Being as such, it had a nice pointed tip to the end. His eyes grew wide… “No… not that… please…”
Did he just say that, or was it his sub-conscience, screaming at him? No matter… She fanned his testicles with the middle part of the vane. His penis jerked for attention. Norman giggled and was surprised that this tickled as much as it did. Perhaps it was just a by-product of all the previous foot tickling? The barbs of the feather gave and were pliable against his wrinkled skin, which miraculously became taught in just a matter of seconds. Then she used the feather’s tip and drew a thin tickly line up the bottom ridge of this flaccid penis. The reaction was like dropping a cube of ice down one’s back, sudden and traumatic. After a few passes up and down, the length nearly doubled and Norman began to unconsciously moan with pleasure. He was torn between giggling and moaning as the feather’s tip glided over the bottom of his erecting cock. Now in full erection, his cock curved over back on itself, with no part touching the mummy case. She took some time at the head and tickled the place where the ‘skin’ ends. (for he was circumcised) This of course was the sweet spot and soon she spotted a drop of pre-cum, coming out of the head. She dipped the feather’s tip in and began to spread the clear liquid around. His moans suddenly became more urgent and she quickly took her thumb and index finger, and clamped the base of the head with firm pressure. The trick worked perfectly and the impending orgasm was neatly thwarted. Norman groaned and Optima laughed.
“Haha…You’re so easy to work with! Do you know that?”
Norman was getting really pissed off now, but what could he do? He had absolutely no control over the situation and all he could do was basically laugh and occasionally moan, which contradicted his true intentions. He hadn’t the time nor the power to do anything else. His body wouldn’t let him. The little red lights on the cameras were still on. She walked back to his bare feet. She lightly stroked the balls of his feet with her long fingernails as she began to lick up and down the middle of his smooth soles. Norman went crazy and laughed manically. His penis shot back up into its full erect state, as though it didn’t want to be left out of the equation … Optima was really lost in the moment this time as she fondled and licked his helpless soles.
She spent the next several hours sadistically tickling his feet, and each time as he was about to come, she would stop until the threat of orgasm abated. Sometimes she would tickle and torment his cock instead, always just stopping short of any sexual gratification. She was teaching him, whether he knew it or not. She was engraining a new fetish into his psyche… a foot/tickle fetish. Within the last 30 minutes or so of this session, she could have brought him to orgasm just by tickling his feet… if she had wanted. He would have not believed it possible. Classic Pavlovian Dog Syndrome. Just saying the word “tickle” would set his penis to twitching. With his new fetish now firmly ensconced, she let him orgasm… finally. She was tickling his feet with a hairbrush when it happened. The insane laughing and moaning intertwined, slowly fused and bit by bit the moaning took over… became more and more urgent. Sure it tickled just as badly… worse in fact than before. His mind sought refuge in the only place made available to him… in blissful sexual release.
The laugher grew with a terrific crescendo. The hairbrush, scrubbing away at his reddened soles. She knew what was happening… she too could feel the sexual urge that could not be held back any longer… she fought to continue, to bring him to orgasm through tickling alone. It was finally happening… it was like she was tickling herself… many years ago… when this was done to her. Terrific muscle spasms in a duet of sexual release. Milky cum, contrasting nicely against the black glistening rubber cocoon. Splattering around his chest, nearly hitting himself in the face. Hitched breaths from Optima, as the hairbrush slipped from her fingertips and banged on the floor.
————
She looked up from the case file, which was still neatly cradled in her hands. Volsung was, now and forever, her little bit of tickle toy. Optima smiled with much satisfaction over this. She carefully folded the other pages over the last page, went over to the police office copier, and fed the pages into it. She slipped the copies into her blouse and inserted the originals back into the Manila folder. This was placed back into the bag, and then back into the police vault, where all the important case files were kept. Optima closed the safe, twisted the combination knob and jumbled the tumblers back into a random setting. She turned around on her heels, stood up, and walked out into the darkness outside.
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