Sablesword
TMF Master
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I've been working on a tickle-novel. (A real novel, with an anticipated word-count somewhere north of 60,000 words). I'm not going to post the whole thing here, since I intend it to be a for-pay piece. But I am going to post bits of it, as a tease and to drum up interest. And also because I haven't posted anything here in TT in a while.
In any case, Chapter 1 can be found here, and this is Chapter 13 - posted because it's in the middle of the novel, and because it is a chapter that's almost all tickling.
Tickle Witch, Chapter 13
by Sablesword
To Susanna's eyes, Master Ted's mansion looked huge. Except of course that it didn't really belong to Master Ted, but to his father. It had room enough to hold six to eight couples in an antique 19th century style: Big, high-ceilinged rooms with a grand appearance, but the added-in plumbing and electricity didn't really match.
The rugs that covered the floors, on the other hand, managed to both fit in and be up-to-date. They soothed Susanna's bare feet as Master Guy led her to the party room.
Susanna looked forward to the party. She was... excited. Master had hardly touched her on Friday night, claiming to be too tired. (A true claim, too. He had certainly looked tired.) But on Saturday he had used her hard, with barely any tickling, but lots and lots of sex.
Master had impaled Susanna from behind on Saturday morning, waking her up from a cuddled sleep. After breakfast, he led her back to bed, whispering in her ear that he planned to be hard with her all day. His actions followed his words, as he fell upon her to hammer her. Her legs had spread wide to welcome him, and she clutched at him as he rained kissed on her face. She remembered his fierce, happy growl, and the way she had cried out her own pleasure, but not how many times it had happened. And then, after lunch, he'd caressed her, his hands taking full possession of her from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. Gentle hands, that soothed all her intimate, sensitive places. Strong hands, moving with confidence, making her aware that he owned her, every bit. That he was her Master.
Then he had ordered her to ride. She obeyed, bucking and squirming, doing her best to pleasure him as he lay back and grinned lazily up at her. She exhausted herself, obeying the commands he had given her, and he folded her to him once again, pressing her dark feminine skin against his pale body.
She ought to be sated and exhausted after all that Master had put her through. She'd certainly felt sated and exhausted last night. But now she wanted the Tickle, wanted it so badly that it ached. And she quivered with the delightful thought that soon, soon she would get it.
The contents of the party room fulfilled Susanna's expectations and more. Nice and big, it had an abundance of traps and ropes, stocks and benches, and posts and devices of all sorts for securing wiggling tickle-slaves. Along the walls, tables were loaded with feathers, brushes, wooden spoons, and all sorts of other implements that a Master might use to tease the skin of a helpless female. It was utterly sinful in its luxury.
At a gesture from Master Ted, Susanna raised her arms and Master Guy removed her green-patterned rayon. He folded it in half, and restored it to her as a short wrap-skirt - a very short wrap-skirt that left Susanna feeling nuder than nude. Gina and April had already been given this treatment, their bare breasts contrasting oddly with their glasses. Master Ted's slave, introduced as Marie-Theodora, looked almost normal by comparison, even though her waist-wrap was even smaller than the others, a scrap hardly larger than a handkerchief.
The others arrived: Emily and Marie from the Kroger coven, along with their Masters. They were stripped topless as well. Now the Masters led their women to the various restraining devices. Susanna had Master Guy securing her in the left-hand stocks of a three-place set, with Marie-Theodora in the middle, and Emily on the right side. She watched Master Guy go and sort through the tickle implements displayed on a side-table. Marie-Theodora looked that way as well, then turned her head, her movements sharp and nervous, to watch her own Master Ted and Emily's owner Maser Curtis. Susanna decided to try to distract her. "Marie-Theodora," she said. "That's an unusual name."
"Just call me Marie, please," came the tight-voiced answer, "Or Marie T, since there's another Marie here." She forced a smile, then muttered, "I hope I've been warmed up enough."
"You've been warmed up enough," Emily said from the other side. "Tell yourself that, and it will be true. Isn't that right, Susanna?"
"That's right," Susanna nodded and smiled. "You'll be fine." She turned to watch her own Master Guy approach, a fist full of feathers and things in his hand and a huge grin on his face. She smiled back, smug in the knowledge that tonight, at least, she would not have to beg him for the tickle.
Gina was not a bond witch herself, but she could still feel the witchery in the air. The restraint that her Master Stan had put her in left her in a shallow vee. Smooth wooden slats supported her back, padded cuffs held her wrists below the level of her rear, and her legs rose up again, strapped to a leaning post. It left her bare soles well-presented for the attentions of the masters.
She looked around, seeing Susanna in a set of triple stocks with Emily and Master Ted's new house slave. Beyond them, April knelt on an elevated cushion, her arms spread wide and strapped to a cross-beam. Gina couldn't see April's ankles, but she knew that they would be strapped in place as well. On Gina's other side, Marie lay on a padded bench, belly down, knees bent, and ankles in a set of vertical stocks, her feet held soles-up for a tickling.
Gina heard a squeal of laughter, but didn't look to see where it came from. Her own Master Stan was coming, stepping around April with his eyes on her helpless body. He would begin her tickling, warming her up for the others. Not that she needed any warming up. Not this evening, with all the witchery in the air. But it still was the custom. Tickle parties like this one were an exception to the normal rule of "look but don't touch," but even so, each woman would receive her first tickles from her own Master before he turned her over to the others.
Gina saw - and felt - her Master apply his tickles to her feet. He wasn't using the brushes he had selected. Instead, Gina glimpsed a curved nylon-plastic thing, an implement he had picked from the side-table along with the brushes. Then she felt its touch, raking her soles. Happy tickle-shocks ran down her legs, making her scream with laughter. She pulled at the cuffs holding her wrists. No escape that way. Her big toes were tied, leaving her no way to avoid the raking tickle. Gina could do nothing but endure and enjoy that skritchy tickle, squealing and laughing at each stroke. Twisting in her bonds. Unable to escape.
All of Gina's attention was on those long strokes running up from her heels to her toes, and on the hard-soft tines that left paths of teasing behind them. Heels to toes, heels to toes, over and over, a dozen or more times before Master switched to a cross-wise raking of her helpless soles. "Cute little Korean feet," Master said as he always did when he paused the tickle. Then Gina felt the raking of her soles resume.
Susanna giggled uncontrollably as Master Guy attacked her from behind. She felt his fingers run up and down her nude sides, dancing in her armpits, moving down to her hips, and then further around to tease her belly. Out to her sides again to repeat the familiar, unbearable, delicious tickling.
Then the tickling changed. No longer dancing fingers digging into her sides, but a brush dry-painting her belly. A brush not held in the hands of her own Master Guy, but in another Master's hands, taking his turn as Master Guy moved over to Marie T.
No, not one brush. Two brushes. Two brushes held in two masculine hands that Susanna couldn't identify. Brushes running over her belly, around her sides to her back, and then returning to her belly once more. Brushes that left a broad trail of tickles behind them. Back and forth, and back and forth again the brushes ran, forcing Susanna to laugh as she sat in the stocks, her wrists secured out of the way. Squirming. Unable to avoid the brushing tickle as it covered everything between her waist and her collar. Everything. Whichever Master it was, he seemed determined to address every ticklish bit of her dark skin.
Gina found herself receiving an upper-body tickling as well, when her own Master Stan left her and Master Curtis took over. Not with a broad, soft paintbrush, but with a rubber spatula dipped in lotion. It rubbed and scraped, tickling her in its own way. Tickling her as much as anything did. Producing squirms and laughter from her just as forcefully as any other tickle-method. Master Curtis couldn't reach her back, secured as she was, but he could ¬- and did - tickle-tease her sides and belly, between her breasts and all around them. Her armpits. And down her legs as well. Or rather up them, secured as they were with her bare feet and tied toes held above her.
Giggling and twisting in response to those teasing scrapes, Gina felt herself at the edge of something. At the edge of an incredible tickling! some part of her mind screamed. It would be horrible and wonderful, and wonderfully horrible when Master Curtis finally applied himself to her soles. But there was something else as well. The witchery in the air grew thicker. Couldn't everyone sense it?
Then another teasing line came. Down her left leg. Across her belly from her left hip to her right armpit. Up her right arm. And then down her left arm to repeat in reverse. And Gina had no more attention to spare for anything but how that rubbery scraping tickled.
Susanna could feel the witchery as well. She did her best to ignore it as it whispered to her: Kootchy koo! Kootchy koo! Kootchy kootchy koo! She needed to catch her breath, during this brief break in her tickling. At any moment it might resume. Master Ted would tickle her next, she thought. He was choosing new implements with the air of a man preparing a foot-tickle. Susanna's feet squirmed in anticipation. He wouldn't tickle her quite as well as her own Master Guy could, but he would be just as thorough. He'd be different, and she looked forward to that. Yet at the same time she'd be very happy when her own Master Guy took her home to cuddle and tease. Which was, of course, a major purpose of these parties. They left slaves with a better appreciation of the touch of their own Masters.
And here came Master Ted. He applied his choosen implement to Susanna's feet. A toothbrush! A toothbrush scrubbing the pads of her toes! Susanna squealed, twisting, deeply aware of that scrubbing tickle-sensation, somewhat aware of Marie T giggling and giggling beside her, and only vaguely aware of the other tickle-vibrations that filled the room. Vibrations produced by six slavegirls, each one held helpless and forced to laugh under her Master's touch.
Now that devilish toothbrush had moved on. Instead of pouring concentrated tickle into her toe-pads, Master Ted was using it to touch, and scrub, and tickle-tease the rest of Susanna's feet. Every bit of them. She felt the tickle applied to the tops of her feet as well as her soles, a wonderfully evil tickle that she both loved and couldn't stand. She couldn't stand it, and she feared it would stop too soon. She couldn't stand it, as Master Ted brushed and scrubbed her insteps and the tops of her toes. She didn't want him to stop as he tickle-wiggled the toothbrush around her heels and the balls of her feet. But she couldn't stand it as he produced huge tickles with that little implement. And she loved it, loved it, loved it!
Sitting between Susanna and Emily, Marie-Theodora felt her own sensitivity increasing. Normally, she wasn't very ticklish at all, and needed a bit of bastinado or a light flogging to warm her up. She had often wished it were otherwise - and tonight her wish was coming true. Witchery was in the air, and the ticklishness of Susanna on her left and Emily on her right overflowed, and made her feel ultra-ticklish as well.
Master Guy was standing behind her, reaching around with his fingers to tease her belly and sides. That alone was enough to make Marie pull at the bonds on her wrists, the ones that held her arms up out of the way, giving the Masters a clear field in which to inflict their sweet torments. And Master Guy was an expert. His fingers were moving at just the right speed, with just the right degree of pressure, to make them tickle the most as they traveled up and down her ribs and back and forth across her belly. She laughed and laughed, the laughter forced out of her. She stiffened as one forefinger wiggled in her navel, and the other flicked lightly at that spot between and below her breasts.
And that didn't even take into account what Master Stan was doing to her feet. Marie couldn't see what he was doing, but she could feel it. Oh God, she could feel it! It was something quick and fierce, flick-flick-flicking over her soles. She could feel the rapid flicks on the bottom of her left heel, each flick a short downward stroke, but with a swarm of them moving slowly upward toward her toes. Then they moved over to the ball of her right foot, imposing unbearably wonderful tickle-sensations as the stroke-swarm moved down again. And then, and then - Master Stan alternated between her two helpless feet for the best, worst, strongest pleasure-torments of them all! Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle!
Gina watched as April's Master William came forward to tickle her. He held a feather-fan armed with soft, fluffy feathers, and Gina smiled in anticipation of what it would do to her vulnerable belly and sides and legs.
And when it came, it was soft. Teasingly soft, squirmingly soft, as the feather tips ran up and down and up and down again. Trapped by her bonds, Gina could not avoid the gentle touch, but could only wiggle as Master William delicately brushed her naked skin to force the laughter from her.
Susanna thrashed, as Master Stan moved his terrible tickling rake from Marie T's soles to hers. Rake-rake-rake-rake-rake, the tickle sensations sank in deeply as they were applied to her insteps. But not the insteps alone: Susanna's heels, and the balls of her feet also received that terrible tickle-rake, as did the tops of her feet. It felt as if every one of her nerve endings was receiving its own special tickle as the rake swept up and down Susanna's feet. Her helpless feet, trapped in the stocks, and the tickling made Susanna feel even more helpless. She could not escape. She could never escape, no matter how much she struggled, and it felt wonderful. It was too much, and too much was wonderful! All the world became that terrible raking of her feet that tickled wonderfully.
Tickling and witchery filled the room. In that thick tickle-witchery a vision came to Susanna - and immediately fled, replaced by another. Susanna vaguely sensed the first vision settle on one of the other tickle-slaves in the room, but she didn't pay it any attention. She couldn't. The second vision was too strong. In it, Master Guy was preparing to give her the most awful tickling session ever. Master would apply everything he was learning here, using paintbrushes, and toothbrushes, and plastic rakes on her brown skin and bare feet. For hours and hours, driven by some dreadful need. And it would be wonderful.
Gina heard Susanna's squeal, rising above her own giggling and the laughter of the other tickle slaves. She felt the vision settle on her, but not being a bond witch herself, she didn't recognize it for what it was. At least not at first. At first she just felt herself floating, floating on the echoes of laughter. Floating on the tickle-vibrations that filled the room. The tickle-sensations being inflicted on her own helpless body burned within her. Burned like liquid fire, only more pleasant. Much more pleasant...
Gina realized that it was a vision when she saw the four men. Young men, soldierly men, men with guns sprawled out resting in a small room. Where? Gina couldn't tell. When? Soon, she thought. Maybe very soon. More than a day, but certainly less than a month. And Lillanna was with them.
Lillanna? Why Lillanna? She looked worried. Frightened? Trying to hide her fear? Maybe.
Then Gina could hear, as well as see. One of the men was speaking: "...too bad we couldn't grab all four. American women would be worth a lot, on the..."
A roaring filled Gina's ears. Her sight went blurry, as if she had lost her glasses. She felt dizzy. Dizzy, and whirling away...
In any case, Chapter 1 can be found here, and this is Chapter 13 - posted because it's in the middle of the novel, and because it is a chapter that's almost all tickling.
Tickle Witch, Chapter 13
by Sablesword
To Susanna's eyes, Master Ted's mansion looked huge. Except of course that it didn't really belong to Master Ted, but to his father. It had room enough to hold six to eight couples in an antique 19th century style: Big, high-ceilinged rooms with a grand appearance, but the added-in plumbing and electricity didn't really match.
The rugs that covered the floors, on the other hand, managed to both fit in and be up-to-date. They soothed Susanna's bare feet as Master Guy led her to the party room.
Susanna looked forward to the party. She was... excited. Master had hardly touched her on Friday night, claiming to be too tired. (A true claim, too. He had certainly looked tired.) But on Saturday he had used her hard, with barely any tickling, but lots and lots of sex.
Master had impaled Susanna from behind on Saturday morning, waking her up from a cuddled sleep. After breakfast, he led her back to bed, whispering in her ear that he planned to be hard with her all day. His actions followed his words, as he fell upon her to hammer her. Her legs had spread wide to welcome him, and she clutched at him as he rained kissed on her face. She remembered his fierce, happy growl, and the way she had cried out her own pleasure, but not how many times it had happened. And then, after lunch, he'd caressed her, his hands taking full possession of her from the top of her head to the soles of her feet. Gentle hands, that soothed all her intimate, sensitive places. Strong hands, moving with confidence, making her aware that he owned her, every bit. That he was her Master.
Then he had ordered her to ride. She obeyed, bucking and squirming, doing her best to pleasure him as he lay back and grinned lazily up at her. She exhausted herself, obeying the commands he had given her, and he folded her to him once again, pressing her dark feminine skin against his pale body.
She ought to be sated and exhausted after all that Master had put her through. She'd certainly felt sated and exhausted last night. But now she wanted the Tickle, wanted it so badly that it ached. And she quivered with the delightful thought that soon, soon she would get it.
The contents of the party room fulfilled Susanna's expectations and more. Nice and big, it had an abundance of traps and ropes, stocks and benches, and posts and devices of all sorts for securing wiggling tickle-slaves. Along the walls, tables were loaded with feathers, brushes, wooden spoons, and all sorts of other implements that a Master might use to tease the skin of a helpless female. It was utterly sinful in its luxury.
At a gesture from Master Ted, Susanna raised her arms and Master Guy removed her green-patterned rayon. He folded it in half, and restored it to her as a short wrap-skirt - a very short wrap-skirt that left Susanna feeling nuder than nude. Gina and April had already been given this treatment, their bare breasts contrasting oddly with their glasses. Master Ted's slave, introduced as Marie-Theodora, looked almost normal by comparison, even though her waist-wrap was even smaller than the others, a scrap hardly larger than a handkerchief.
The others arrived: Emily and Marie from the Kroger coven, along with their Masters. They were stripped topless as well. Now the Masters led their women to the various restraining devices. Susanna had Master Guy securing her in the left-hand stocks of a three-place set, with Marie-Theodora in the middle, and Emily on the right side. She watched Master Guy go and sort through the tickle implements displayed on a side-table. Marie-Theodora looked that way as well, then turned her head, her movements sharp and nervous, to watch her own Master Ted and Emily's owner Maser Curtis. Susanna decided to try to distract her. "Marie-Theodora," she said. "That's an unusual name."
"Just call me Marie, please," came the tight-voiced answer, "Or Marie T, since there's another Marie here." She forced a smile, then muttered, "I hope I've been warmed up enough."
"You've been warmed up enough," Emily said from the other side. "Tell yourself that, and it will be true. Isn't that right, Susanna?"
"That's right," Susanna nodded and smiled. "You'll be fine." She turned to watch her own Master Guy approach, a fist full of feathers and things in his hand and a huge grin on his face. She smiled back, smug in the knowledge that tonight, at least, she would not have to beg him for the tickle.
#
Gina was not a bond witch herself, but she could still feel the witchery in the air. The restraint that her Master Stan had put her in left her in a shallow vee. Smooth wooden slats supported her back, padded cuffs held her wrists below the level of her rear, and her legs rose up again, strapped to a leaning post. It left her bare soles well-presented for the attentions of the masters.
She looked around, seeing Susanna in a set of triple stocks with Emily and Master Ted's new house slave. Beyond them, April knelt on an elevated cushion, her arms spread wide and strapped to a cross-beam. Gina couldn't see April's ankles, but she knew that they would be strapped in place as well. On Gina's other side, Marie lay on a padded bench, belly down, knees bent, and ankles in a set of vertical stocks, her feet held soles-up for a tickling.
Gina heard a squeal of laughter, but didn't look to see where it came from. Her own Master Stan was coming, stepping around April with his eyes on her helpless body. He would begin her tickling, warming her up for the others. Not that she needed any warming up. Not this evening, with all the witchery in the air. But it still was the custom. Tickle parties like this one were an exception to the normal rule of "look but don't touch," but even so, each woman would receive her first tickles from her own Master before he turned her over to the others.
Gina saw - and felt - her Master apply his tickles to her feet. He wasn't using the brushes he had selected. Instead, Gina glimpsed a curved nylon-plastic thing, an implement he had picked from the side-table along with the brushes. Then she felt its touch, raking her soles. Happy tickle-shocks ran down her legs, making her scream with laughter. She pulled at the cuffs holding her wrists. No escape that way. Her big toes were tied, leaving her no way to avoid the raking tickle. Gina could do nothing but endure and enjoy that skritchy tickle, squealing and laughing at each stroke. Twisting in her bonds. Unable to escape.
All of Gina's attention was on those long strokes running up from her heels to her toes, and on the hard-soft tines that left paths of teasing behind them. Heels to toes, heels to toes, over and over, a dozen or more times before Master switched to a cross-wise raking of her helpless soles. "Cute little Korean feet," Master said as he always did when he paused the tickle. Then Gina felt the raking of her soles resume.
#
Susanna giggled uncontrollably as Master Guy attacked her from behind. She felt his fingers run up and down her nude sides, dancing in her armpits, moving down to her hips, and then further around to tease her belly. Out to her sides again to repeat the familiar, unbearable, delicious tickling.
Then the tickling changed. No longer dancing fingers digging into her sides, but a brush dry-painting her belly. A brush not held in the hands of her own Master Guy, but in another Master's hands, taking his turn as Master Guy moved over to Marie T.
No, not one brush. Two brushes. Two brushes held in two masculine hands that Susanna couldn't identify. Brushes running over her belly, around her sides to her back, and then returning to her belly once more. Brushes that left a broad trail of tickles behind them. Back and forth, and back and forth again the brushes ran, forcing Susanna to laugh as she sat in the stocks, her wrists secured out of the way. Squirming. Unable to avoid the brushing tickle as it covered everything between her waist and her collar. Everything. Whichever Master it was, he seemed determined to address every ticklish bit of her dark skin.
#
Gina found herself receiving an upper-body tickling as well, when her own Master Stan left her and Master Curtis took over. Not with a broad, soft paintbrush, but with a rubber spatula dipped in lotion. It rubbed and scraped, tickling her in its own way. Tickling her as much as anything did. Producing squirms and laughter from her just as forcefully as any other tickle-method. Master Curtis couldn't reach her back, secured as she was, but he could ¬- and did - tickle-tease her sides and belly, between her breasts and all around them. Her armpits. And down her legs as well. Or rather up them, secured as they were with her bare feet and tied toes held above her.
Giggling and twisting in response to those teasing scrapes, Gina felt herself at the edge of something. At the edge of an incredible tickling! some part of her mind screamed. It would be horrible and wonderful, and wonderfully horrible when Master Curtis finally applied himself to her soles. But there was something else as well. The witchery in the air grew thicker. Couldn't everyone sense it?
Then another teasing line came. Down her left leg. Across her belly from her left hip to her right armpit. Up her right arm. And then down her left arm to repeat in reverse. And Gina had no more attention to spare for anything but how that rubbery scraping tickled.
#
Susanna could feel the witchery as well. She did her best to ignore it as it whispered to her: Kootchy koo! Kootchy koo! Kootchy kootchy koo! She needed to catch her breath, during this brief break in her tickling. At any moment it might resume. Master Ted would tickle her next, she thought. He was choosing new implements with the air of a man preparing a foot-tickle. Susanna's feet squirmed in anticipation. He wouldn't tickle her quite as well as her own Master Guy could, but he would be just as thorough. He'd be different, and she looked forward to that. Yet at the same time she'd be very happy when her own Master Guy took her home to cuddle and tease. Which was, of course, a major purpose of these parties. They left slaves with a better appreciation of the touch of their own Masters.
And here came Master Ted. He applied his choosen implement to Susanna's feet. A toothbrush! A toothbrush scrubbing the pads of her toes! Susanna squealed, twisting, deeply aware of that scrubbing tickle-sensation, somewhat aware of Marie T giggling and giggling beside her, and only vaguely aware of the other tickle-vibrations that filled the room. Vibrations produced by six slavegirls, each one held helpless and forced to laugh under her Master's touch.
Now that devilish toothbrush had moved on. Instead of pouring concentrated tickle into her toe-pads, Master Ted was using it to touch, and scrub, and tickle-tease the rest of Susanna's feet. Every bit of them. She felt the tickle applied to the tops of her feet as well as her soles, a wonderfully evil tickle that she both loved and couldn't stand. She couldn't stand it, and she feared it would stop too soon. She couldn't stand it, as Master Ted brushed and scrubbed her insteps and the tops of her toes. She didn't want him to stop as he tickle-wiggled the toothbrush around her heels and the balls of her feet. But she couldn't stand it as he produced huge tickles with that little implement. And she loved it, loved it, loved it!
#
Sitting between Susanna and Emily, Marie-Theodora felt her own sensitivity increasing. Normally, she wasn't very ticklish at all, and needed a bit of bastinado or a light flogging to warm her up. She had often wished it were otherwise - and tonight her wish was coming true. Witchery was in the air, and the ticklishness of Susanna on her left and Emily on her right overflowed, and made her feel ultra-ticklish as well.
Master Guy was standing behind her, reaching around with his fingers to tease her belly and sides. That alone was enough to make Marie pull at the bonds on her wrists, the ones that held her arms up out of the way, giving the Masters a clear field in which to inflict their sweet torments. And Master Guy was an expert. His fingers were moving at just the right speed, with just the right degree of pressure, to make them tickle the most as they traveled up and down her ribs and back and forth across her belly. She laughed and laughed, the laughter forced out of her. She stiffened as one forefinger wiggled in her navel, and the other flicked lightly at that spot between and below her breasts.
And that didn't even take into account what Master Stan was doing to her feet. Marie couldn't see what he was doing, but she could feel it. Oh God, she could feel it! It was something quick and fierce, flick-flick-flicking over her soles. She could feel the rapid flicks on the bottom of her left heel, each flick a short downward stroke, but with a swarm of them moving slowly upward toward her toes. Then they moved over to the ball of her right foot, imposing unbearably wonderful tickle-sensations as the stroke-swarm moved down again. And then, and then - Master Stan alternated between her two helpless feet for the best, worst, strongest pleasure-torments of them all! Tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle tickle!
#
Gina watched as April's Master William came forward to tickle her. He held a feather-fan armed with soft, fluffy feathers, and Gina smiled in anticipation of what it would do to her vulnerable belly and sides and legs.
And when it came, it was soft. Teasingly soft, squirmingly soft, as the feather tips ran up and down and up and down again. Trapped by her bonds, Gina could not avoid the gentle touch, but could only wiggle as Master William delicately brushed her naked skin to force the laughter from her.
#
Susanna thrashed, as Master Stan moved his terrible tickling rake from Marie T's soles to hers. Rake-rake-rake-rake-rake, the tickle sensations sank in deeply as they were applied to her insteps. But not the insteps alone: Susanna's heels, and the balls of her feet also received that terrible tickle-rake, as did the tops of her feet. It felt as if every one of her nerve endings was receiving its own special tickle as the rake swept up and down Susanna's feet. Her helpless feet, trapped in the stocks, and the tickling made Susanna feel even more helpless. She could not escape. She could never escape, no matter how much she struggled, and it felt wonderful. It was too much, and too much was wonderful! All the world became that terrible raking of her feet that tickled wonderfully.
Tickling and witchery filled the room. In that thick tickle-witchery a vision came to Susanna - and immediately fled, replaced by another. Susanna vaguely sensed the first vision settle on one of the other tickle-slaves in the room, but she didn't pay it any attention. She couldn't. The second vision was too strong. In it, Master Guy was preparing to give her the most awful tickling session ever. Master would apply everything he was learning here, using paintbrushes, and toothbrushes, and plastic rakes on her brown skin and bare feet. For hours and hours, driven by some dreadful need. And it would be wonderful.
#
Gina heard Susanna's squeal, rising above her own giggling and the laughter of the other tickle slaves. She felt the vision settle on her, but not being a bond witch herself, she didn't recognize it for what it was. At least not at first. At first she just felt herself floating, floating on the echoes of laughter. Floating on the tickle-vibrations that filled the room. The tickle-sensations being inflicted on her own helpless body burned within her. Burned like liquid fire, only more pleasant. Much more pleasant...
Gina realized that it was a vision when she saw the four men. Young men, soldierly men, men with guns sprawled out resting in a small room. Where? Gina couldn't tell. When? Soon, she thought. Maybe very soon. More than a day, but certainly less than a month. And Lillanna was with them.
Lillanna? Why Lillanna? She looked worried. Frightened? Trying to hide her fear? Maybe.
Then Gina could hear, as well as see. One of the men was speaking: "...too bad we couldn't grab all four. American women would be worth a lot, on the..."
A roaring filled Gina's ears. Her sight went blurry, as if she had lost her glasses. She felt dizzy. Dizzy, and whirling away...
