tickletease2024
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It was the early summer of 2040 and a new government had recently been elected following a period of substantial political turbulence. Civil disobedience had reached unprecedented levels and the new government were determined to instil some order in daily life. Prison overcrowding had reached unsustainable levels, and so a more creative approach was required. The new Justice Minister was experimenting with a new judicial review. This saw justice dispensed rapidly without the need to further increase the prison population. The punishments meted out were curious: they sounded wildly appealing, yet reoffending rates were virtually zero. The law abiding population were bemused and puzzled at this apparent contradiction-in-terms, but pleased to see a return to lawfulness on the streets.
One of the advantages of the scheme was that offenders could choose to draw a line under their crimes with previously unimagined speed. Of course, they could choose a more conventional punishment but the novelty and curiosity of what was being trialled drew in most offenders. No-one actually fully knew what the justice system involved until they had experienced it: all that was set out in law was that they would be freed within the same day and they would be completely uninjured physically. There seemed to be no downsides to the system.
It was a relatively quiet day in the magistrates court with just a few cases to be heard. The local reporter, Marcus, was sitting in the main courtroom reception when his eyes were drawn to a blonde girl being brought into the court. Many of the miscreants in recent days had been bedraggled-looking men, and he therefore noticed her immediately. Messaging quickly back to the newspaper headquarters he asked if he could follow and report on her case – he would be interested to see the verdict even if he was not allowed to learn of her sentence. Such was her innocent look that he was sure in any case that she would not be found guilty.
Entering into courtroom 3 at 10am – all the cases were heard between 10 and 11 in the morning with justice dispensed from 12 noon – the same girl was now sitting in the dock looking startled and slightly uneasy. Her blonde hair was tied back in a neat ponytail. She was petite and slim with a pretty face, even though she looked slightly hungover. Marcus was immediately convinced of her innocence and thought this would be a dull morning of reporting but he was nonetheless drawn in by her prettiness. This annoyed him as she was around twenty years his junior but he did not have too much time for guilt as the magistrate suddenly filed in and everybody stood up.
The girl confirmed her name – Hannah – and her date of birth which she spoke in a soft voice: 4 June 2022. It transpired that she had turned eighteen just two days previously and she had been arrested whilst out with her friends. A group of them had tried to climb on the roof of the local shop as part of a drunken prank; as the police arrived everyone managed to scarper except for Hannah who was simply too inebriated. It must have been a big night out, thought Marcus, if she looked slightly worse for wear two days later.
The prosecuting lawyer read through the facts of the case and, to Marcus’ surprise, no defence was offered. Unbeknown to the reporter, Hannah had been advised that she would be released with a reprimand but the magistrate turned out not to be in a generous mood. She was offered the new – but unknown – one-day punishment or for her case to be referred to the more conventional magistrates’ court where the maximum possible sentence was a six-month spell in prison or a significant fine. Hannah had no funds beyond her modest weekly allowance, and in any case was looking forward to starting university in a few months. She decided to opt for the experimental route: with the promise of a same-day release and no physical injury it felt like a no-brainer.
Marcus tried to make enquiries as to what her punishment would involve, and even asked if he could act as a witness to it, but was quickly ushered away. Reluctantly he shuffled away from the courtroom frustrated that this new justice system was shrouded in secrecy to such a degree.
Hannah, meanwhile was led into a basement cell flanked by the two courtroom security guards. She was slightly nervous but felt confident that she had made the right decision and would have drawn a line under the whole episode by bedtime.
Conversation in the cell was brief: she was merely asked to confirm that she definitely consented to the one-day ‘experimental’ punishment. Once it was underway there was no possibility of stopping it early or reverting to more traditional justice. Hannah nodded that she understood – she felt almost bored and irritated that she had to spend, perhaps a few more hours in the care of the court.
Hannah signed the consent paperwork and was led down a long corridor into another adjoining room. Two people sat in the room – a man and a woman, both around mid-thirties, and acknowledged Hannah, nodding curtly, as she entered.
“The punishment will begin at 12noon”, declared the man suddenly. It seemed like an odd introduction but it caught Hannah’s attention. “You will now need to strip to your underwear”. This was even more unexpected in its abruptness. Hannah hadn’t been sure what to expect, but assumed that it would be a short period of detention with the requirement to write some sort of apology to the shopkeeper whose roof she had climbed onto. She paused briefly but the woman pointed to her and, without speaking a word, made it clear that she should obey and without delay.
It was now around half-past-eleven and Hannah was nervously pacing around in her underwear wondering what the next stage could possibly entail. She didn’t have to wait much longer as the man and woman beckoned her into the next room. There was a large reclining chair in this room but very little else. There were bars attached to the front of the chair and Hannah didn’t feel entirely comforted by it. No words were exchanged as the girl was led to the chair and gently pushed into it. The man then took Hannah’s arms and handcuffed them behind the back of the chair. Hannah suddenly felt vulnerable and more than a little scared. She now wasn’t in a position to protest as her legs were gently opened apart and placed over the bars coming out of the front of the chair. She was feeling bewildered by the direction this punishment was taking – but at least they had been gentle and careful with her – it felt that the promise of no physical injury was at least going to be honoured.
“Hannah, you have opted for the experimental restorative justice system that punishes you within one day and then sets you free with no further criminal record”. A light came on in the room and Hannah was surprised to see a youngish man sitting in another chair opposite. “This is Adrian, whose shop you were trying to vandalise. As part of our restorative justice, he gets to observe your punishment but then signs a non-disclaimer agreement to ensure he never speaks more widely about it.”
Hannah now felt quite nervous. Her hands were secured tightly behind her back and whilst she could still move her legs freely, she didn’t want to provoke the anger of the man and woman overseeing her punishment. “I am Martin”, spoke the man confidently “and this is Holly. We have been appointed to deliver your punishment today.”
“Wh..wh..what is my punishment,” stammered Hannah after a short pause.
“At 12 o clock exactly we are going to start stimulating you in different ways. You will gradually build up towards an orgasm but there is a catch…”
“ A catch?” enquired Hannah nervously?
“We will stop stimulating you only at the first turn-of-the-hour after you orgasm. If you haven’t orgasmed by the next hour, we will continue for at least a further sixty minutes. If you still haven’t orgasmed by 8’o’clock this evening then you will be released without further action. Very few people make it through eight hours though. Most last a couple, occasionally someone makes it to four hours. The challenge is to time your orgasm for as near as possible to the top of the hour as you can.”
Martin chuckled to himself as he was sure that Hannah hadn’t yet fully understood the implications of what was about to happen.
“If, for example, you orgasm after twenty minutes, then you will endure another forty minutes of what might be…interesting stimulation” continued Martin. “if you haven’t orgasmed after an hour, then you will endure a further hour until you do! You will constantly be torn between trying to hold back your orgasm and attempting to release it.”
Holly chipped in the first time. Hannah realised it was the first time she had heard her speak. “For fun, we try to hold back just a little as the prisoner gets close to one hour, so they have to go through the whole cycle of torment again”.
“Erm, I think on second thoughts, I might opt for the normal court punishment” said Hannah after a short pause.
“Too late” interrupted Martin almost immediately. “You agreed earlier that once you are here the process is irreversible”.
Hannah gulped and became a little distressed. Sexually inexperienced, she wasn’t sure of her limits and whether she would be able to cope. She wasn’t even sure exactly what they were going to do in terms of bringing her to orgasm.
She didn’t have long to find out as she noticed the clock read five minutes to twelve. Without warning Martin secured her legs across the bars by wrapping masking tape around them several times. “Shall we wrap tape around her tummy, Holly?” asked Martin.
“No” replied Holly quickly. “I think we should enjoy watching her squirm up and down.
“That would be good” winked Martin wryly, “but for her first time enduring this, I think it would be easier if she was fully secured. I think it would be kinder if she cannot move at all”.
Hannah felt several wraps of masking tape going round her soft tummy. She was now fully secured to the chair with her legs wide open but still in her underwear. She hoped that they would just stroke her a little round her panties and it would all be over in an hour or so.
The clock struck twelve. Every chime sent a shiver down Hannah’s spine as she started to fully appreciate her vulnerability. “The first fifteen minutes are spent making you as utterly horny as possible” said Martin in a matter-of-fact voice. Perhaps this wouldn’t be too bad after all, thought Hannah. She hadn’t masturbated for around a week and knew that it wouldn’t take long to get her into this state.
“Martin is going to stimulate your nipples”, said Holly suddenly, “whilst I start to tickle your pussy”.
The word “tickle” was like a bullet passing through Hannah’s spine. She shivered. She had always been exceptionally ticklish and was now quite unnerved about what lay ahead. She barely noticed as her bra was lifted up revealing her soft nipples and she had completely forgotten about the additional audience member in the room.
Martin traced a finger around each nipple, maddeningly slowly but occasionally picking up speed just slightly. Holly meanwhile took a pair of scissors and carefully snipped Hannah’s panties, revealing a neatly trimmed line of blonde hair running up towards the masking tape securing her tummy.
Holly dipped her fingers in some massage oil and, without warning, started to stroke gently down Hannah’s outer lips. The sensation was pleasing and Hannah was relieved that she was actually secretly enjoying it. As Martin stroked her nipples in slow circles, Holly was gently spreading apart her pussy, massaging it from side to side, but never making contact with her clit.
After ten minutes or so, Hannah began to groan gently, her neatly pony-tailed blonde hair gently bobbing from side to side as she shook her head. Her clit was beginning to stand to attention and moisture seeped between her legs. Adrian the shopkeeper smiled.
After fifteen minutes the stimulation suddenly stopped and Hannah let out another soft moan. She tried to lift herself up to get some relief for her clit, but the restraints held firm. Hannah’s eyes widened in disbelief as she saw Martin and Holly each pick out a couple of long, firm, feathers.
“You now have a minimum of forty-five minutes feather stimulation. If you orgasm during it, we will carry on regardless. If you haven’t orgasmed by 1’o’clock we will carry on regardless for another hour. Try to time your orgasm well!”
Hannah began to realise the true implication of her predicament. Having been stimulated intensely for fifteen minutes, she would soon be desperate for an orgasm, but perhaps unable to reach one. And if she could manage to reach one, then she risked the utter torment of post-orgasm stimulation. She had only had one boyfriend previously, and he once stroked her clit immediately after she orgasmed. She remembered how unbearable it had felt and was now seriously concerned.
“Please just let me orgasm and then release me”, she begged nervously. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Martin and Holly didn’t acknowledge her but started stroking a long feather around the edge of her pussy lips, still carefully avoiding her clit. Hannah thought she was going to go insane: it was a combination of the ticklish stimulation which aroused incredible feelings, albeit insufficient to take her to orgasm, combined with the complete impossibility of escape from the chair. She struggled and tested the handcuffs to no avail as Holly ran a feather gently around each nipple.
Hannah noticed that around half-an-hour had passed and thought that she might just about be able to endure these sensations until 1’o’clock, but then remembered she had to orgasm in order for them to stop, but hopefully not too early that she would endure post-orgasm torture: that would simply be too much to take. She started moaning, partly involuntarily, but partly because she thought she may be able to convince her tormenters that she was on the brink of orgasm and they may show mercy. “Please don’t think about faking an orgasm”, said Martin firmly. “We are highly experienced in this and know what is real.”
Hannah glanced nervously at the clock and saw there was around 20 minutes to the next hour. She could get through this if she held her nerve. But then she remembered that she was utterly helpless and could only look down as Holly slowly tickled her nipples with the long feathers. Rattling the handcuffs behind her, she pleased for mercy once more. This fell on deaf ears as Martin gently spread apart her pussy with his fingers and moved the feather closer to her clit. On the one hand, it was aching for a touch, but Hannah was not sure she could cope with the tickling sensation of the feather. It would surely drive her insane.
She found out soon enough as the feather brushed lightly across the tip of her clit. Martin was truly an expert in this and she started gasping as the feather went round and round in small concentric circles. Fifteen minutes to the top of the hour, and Hannah was confident that she could now control and time her orgasm so that it arrived just seconds before 1’o’clock. She would then be free to go. She felt sure they would be true to their word in this regard.
Round and round the feather went – occasionally a little faster, and then maddeningly slowly – just up and down the tip of her now erect clit. Martin continued to spread her pussy with his fingers and she had never felt so vulnerable.
Ten minutes. She could feel her orgasm starting to build and she was hoping she could perfect the timing to her ultimate advantage. Round and round went the feather, but would it give her sufficient stimulation to climax – she wasn’t totally sure.
Five minutes before one, and Hannah suddenly felt a new surge of confidence. Although she couldn’t move her hips she felt her pussy starting to glow and small vibrations pulsating through her clit. Now was the time to focus on achieving orgasm and she gave it all her mental energy. As she felt the feeling building to almost overwhelming levels, the feather slightly slowed its circuit of her clit and she cried out in disbelief: “no, please don’t stop now – I need to orgasm”. Martin chuckled to himself. Most of his victims fell for this trick and Hannah was now poised on the edge of a mind-shattering orgasm.
The clock struck one. Just one chime but it was like a death-knell for Hannah as she came to terms with her predicament. She was now more desperate for an orgasm than she had ever felt in her life. But if she had one, the stimulation would last for another hour and become absolutely unbearable. There was no way she could cope with that, although she was worried she would have no choice.
So she was now stuck on the precipice of a terrible choice: go with the orgasm that she so craved and suffer the consequences, or hold it back for another hour. And she remembered that this cycle of tease and denial could continue for another seven hours.
Martin and Holly exchanged places. Martin joked sardonically to Hannah: “she’s actually better than me at tickling a pussy”. Hannah felt as though she was being driven out of her mind as the feathers resumed their endless journey. Her pussy was no longer being spread open with a tormentor’s fingers but it was so moist that it splayed of its own volition, and completely beyond her control.
Hannah tried to think rational thoughts about boring things to put her orgasm back under control for the next hour, but this was virtually impossible with two feathers tickling slowly around the edge of her clit. Holly bent forward and Hannah could feel her warm breath just millimetres from her clit. She didn’t know if she could withstand another hour of this, let alone seven. She was now starting to appreciate why the reoffending rates from those who have experienced this justice are so low: it was quite simply unbearable in its teasing.
At half-past-one, Hannah thought she might go out of her mind as Holly once again spread apart her pussy. It was wider than she had ever felt it, and now Martin was stroking a feather rapidly up and down in between her lips. “Please, please stop it – I can’t take any more”, begged Hannah, in a whimpering voice.
“Time your orgasm for 2’o’clock and it will all be over” said Martin, “although we might have a bit of fun and slow down in the minutes before again!”. He chuckled at his own little joke but Hannah was not laughing. She was now becoming absolutely desperate to orgasm but not quite receiving sufficient stimulation – it was just too light and tickly. She furiously tried to free her wrists from the handcuffs, imagining what she would do to herself if she had a spare hand.
With twenty minutes to go, Hannah decided she would try to outwit her captors and build herself to an orgasm slightly ahead of schedule. Although she would then be faced with a few minutes of post orgasm tickling on her clit, she felt that it would be preferable to another hour of this which she simply could not imagine enduring. At quarter-to-two, she indeed felt herself starting to build again. Surely this time she would make it and be able to get the relief she so desperately craved.
Martin and Holly sensed that she was building up and slightly slowed down the rhythm of the feathers. The one on her clit now made just a small stroking movement up and down. Hannah thought she would go out of her mind. She pulled and tugged on the handcuffs and begged for mercy but none was shown. She was now starting to realise just how effective this new justice system was. “Please let me orgasm before 2’o’clock, I beg you, I am just so desperate now, my pussy is so wet and my clit aches so much.” Hannah was shocked at her own language but it was part-and-parcel of her current desperation.
With five minutes to go, Hannah tried to buck her hips in rhythm with the feathers, although there was very limited room for mobility as the tape secured her body tightly to the chair and her legs were taped open to the bars on the chair. With only minutes ago, she reached a new phase of desperation and willed herself to have an orgasm. The sensations were absolutely maddening around her pussy but not quite sufficient to take her over the brink.
As the feathers continued to dance around her pussy, Hannah’s heart sank as the clock struck two. She was now in a different state of consciousness and her pussy felt as though a million tiny feathers were stroking it, rather than just the two. She could not possibly endure another one hour cycle of being held at the edge of orgasm, but equally did not seem to have any choice in the matter. He pleas for mercy were ignored as Martin picked up a small ice cube.
“Maybe this will cool you down a little to enable you to enjoy the next hour which are you now committed to.” He laughed gently as he rubbed the ice cube around Hannah’s moist, spread pussy. This was a sensation that she simply could not bear and she desperately tried to gyrate her hips – anything to remove herself from the sensation. Martin persisted though and she felt the ice cube running over the tip of her clit.
She let out a small squeal and suddenly entered a new orgasmic plane. It was building and now felt out of her control. She looked at the clock to remind herself of the time: no – despite needing an orgasm more than she had ever felt in her life, she had to defer it for another fifty minutes or so. The alternative was simply unthinkable. Hannah’s body had different ideas though, and as Martin deftly combined the icecube and the feather the sensations were just so delicious that she felt an orgasm building uncontrollably. Torn between holding it back and wanting it more than anything, she no longer realistically had control over her destiny.
When the orgasm tore through Hannah, she wasn’t even expecting it. It was preceded by a few squeals and the loudest moan heard in the room to date. The earth-shattering force of it took her by surprise and she looked down at her glistening pussy which was now oozing moisture. She had forgotten about the shopkeeper watching the whole episode but he looked at once embarrassed and delighted. More vulnerable than ever, she wrestled with the handcuffs, and as the mindblowing orgasm began to subside she realised that she could absolutely not bear any further tickling stimulation on her clit – she would simply be sent out of her mind.
She looked nervously at the clock. It was five past two. Now Hannah was deeply worried.
To be continued
One of the advantages of the scheme was that offenders could choose to draw a line under their crimes with previously unimagined speed. Of course, they could choose a more conventional punishment but the novelty and curiosity of what was being trialled drew in most offenders. No-one actually fully knew what the justice system involved until they had experienced it: all that was set out in law was that they would be freed within the same day and they would be completely uninjured physically. There seemed to be no downsides to the system.
It was a relatively quiet day in the magistrates court with just a few cases to be heard. The local reporter, Marcus, was sitting in the main courtroom reception when his eyes were drawn to a blonde girl being brought into the court. Many of the miscreants in recent days had been bedraggled-looking men, and he therefore noticed her immediately. Messaging quickly back to the newspaper headquarters he asked if he could follow and report on her case – he would be interested to see the verdict even if he was not allowed to learn of her sentence. Such was her innocent look that he was sure in any case that she would not be found guilty.
Entering into courtroom 3 at 10am – all the cases were heard between 10 and 11 in the morning with justice dispensed from 12 noon – the same girl was now sitting in the dock looking startled and slightly uneasy. Her blonde hair was tied back in a neat ponytail. She was petite and slim with a pretty face, even though she looked slightly hungover. Marcus was immediately convinced of her innocence and thought this would be a dull morning of reporting but he was nonetheless drawn in by her prettiness. This annoyed him as she was around twenty years his junior but he did not have too much time for guilt as the magistrate suddenly filed in and everybody stood up.
The girl confirmed her name – Hannah – and her date of birth which she spoke in a soft voice: 4 June 2022. It transpired that she had turned eighteen just two days previously and she had been arrested whilst out with her friends. A group of them had tried to climb on the roof of the local shop as part of a drunken prank; as the police arrived everyone managed to scarper except for Hannah who was simply too inebriated. It must have been a big night out, thought Marcus, if she looked slightly worse for wear two days later.
The prosecuting lawyer read through the facts of the case and, to Marcus’ surprise, no defence was offered. Unbeknown to the reporter, Hannah had been advised that she would be released with a reprimand but the magistrate turned out not to be in a generous mood. She was offered the new – but unknown – one-day punishment or for her case to be referred to the more conventional magistrates’ court where the maximum possible sentence was a six-month spell in prison or a significant fine. Hannah had no funds beyond her modest weekly allowance, and in any case was looking forward to starting university in a few months. She decided to opt for the experimental route: with the promise of a same-day release and no physical injury it felt like a no-brainer.
Marcus tried to make enquiries as to what her punishment would involve, and even asked if he could act as a witness to it, but was quickly ushered away. Reluctantly he shuffled away from the courtroom frustrated that this new justice system was shrouded in secrecy to such a degree.
Hannah, meanwhile was led into a basement cell flanked by the two courtroom security guards. She was slightly nervous but felt confident that she had made the right decision and would have drawn a line under the whole episode by bedtime.
Conversation in the cell was brief: she was merely asked to confirm that she definitely consented to the one-day ‘experimental’ punishment. Once it was underway there was no possibility of stopping it early or reverting to more traditional justice. Hannah nodded that she understood – she felt almost bored and irritated that she had to spend, perhaps a few more hours in the care of the court.
Hannah signed the consent paperwork and was led down a long corridor into another adjoining room. Two people sat in the room – a man and a woman, both around mid-thirties, and acknowledged Hannah, nodding curtly, as she entered.
“The punishment will begin at 12noon”, declared the man suddenly. It seemed like an odd introduction but it caught Hannah’s attention. “You will now need to strip to your underwear”. This was even more unexpected in its abruptness. Hannah hadn’t been sure what to expect, but assumed that it would be a short period of detention with the requirement to write some sort of apology to the shopkeeper whose roof she had climbed onto. She paused briefly but the woman pointed to her and, without speaking a word, made it clear that she should obey and without delay.
It was now around half-past-eleven and Hannah was nervously pacing around in her underwear wondering what the next stage could possibly entail. She didn’t have to wait much longer as the man and woman beckoned her into the next room. There was a large reclining chair in this room but very little else. There were bars attached to the front of the chair and Hannah didn’t feel entirely comforted by it. No words were exchanged as the girl was led to the chair and gently pushed into it. The man then took Hannah’s arms and handcuffed them behind the back of the chair. Hannah suddenly felt vulnerable and more than a little scared. She now wasn’t in a position to protest as her legs were gently opened apart and placed over the bars coming out of the front of the chair. She was feeling bewildered by the direction this punishment was taking – but at least they had been gentle and careful with her – it felt that the promise of no physical injury was at least going to be honoured.
“Hannah, you have opted for the experimental restorative justice system that punishes you within one day and then sets you free with no further criminal record”. A light came on in the room and Hannah was surprised to see a youngish man sitting in another chair opposite. “This is Adrian, whose shop you were trying to vandalise. As part of our restorative justice, he gets to observe your punishment but then signs a non-disclaimer agreement to ensure he never speaks more widely about it.”
Hannah now felt quite nervous. Her hands were secured tightly behind her back and whilst she could still move her legs freely, she didn’t want to provoke the anger of the man and woman overseeing her punishment. “I am Martin”, spoke the man confidently “and this is Holly. We have been appointed to deliver your punishment today.”
“Wh..wh..what is my punishment,” stammered Hannah after a short pause.
“At 12 o clock exactly we are going to start stimulating you in different ways. You will gradually build up towards an orgasm but there is a catch…”
“ A catch?” enquired Hannah nervously?
“We will stop stimulating you only at the first turn-of-the-hour after you orgasm. If you haven’t orgasmed by the next hour, we will continue for at least a further sixty minutes. If you still haven’t orgasmed by 8’o’clock this evening then you will be released without further action. Very few people make it through eight hours though. Most last a couple, occasionally someone makes it to four hours. The challenge is to time your orgasm for as near as possible to the top of the hour as you can.”
Martin chuckled to himself as he was sure that Hannah hadn’t yet fully understood the implications of what was about to happen.
“If, for example, you orgasm after twenty minutes, then you will endure another forty minutes of what might be…interesting stimulation” continued Martin. “if you haven’t orgasmed after an hour, then you will endure a further hour until you do! You will constantly be torn between trying to hold back your orgasm and attempting to release it.”
Holly chipped in the first time. Hannah realised it was the first time she had heard her speak. “For fun, we try to hold back just a little as the prisoner gets close to one hour, so they have to go through the whole cycle of torment again”.
“Erm, I think on second thoughts, I might opt for the normal court punishment” said Hannah after a short pause.
“Too late” interrupted Martin almost immediately. “You agreed earlier that once you are here the process is irreversible”.
Hannah gulped and became a little distressed. Sexually inexperienced, she wasn’t sure of her limits and whether she would be able to cope. She wasn’t even sure exactly what they were going to do in terms of bringing her to orgasm.
She didn’t have long to find out as she noticed the clock read five minutes to twelve. Without warning Martin secured her legs across the bars by wrapping masking tape around them several times. “Shall we wrap tape around her tummy, Holly?” asked Martin.
“No” replied Holly quickly. “I think we should enjoy watching her squirm up and down.
“That would be good” winked Martin wryly, “but for her first time enduring this, I think it would be easier if she was fully secured. I think it would be kinder if she cannot move at all”.
Hannah felt several wraps of masking tape going round her soft tummy. She was now fully secured to the chair with her legs wide open but still in her underwear. She hoped that they would just stroke her a little round her panties and it would all be over in an hour or so.
The clock struck twelve. Every chime sent a shiver down Hannah’s spine as she started to fully appreciate her vulnerability. “The first fifteen minutes are spent making you as utterly horny as possible” said Martin in a matter-of-fact voice. Perhaps this wouldn’t be too bad after all, thought Hannah. She hadn’t masturbated for around a week and knew that it wouldn’t take long to get her into this state.
“Martin is going to stimulate your nipples”, said Holly suddenly, “whilst I start to tickle your pussy”.
The word “tickle” was like a bullet passing through Hannah’s spine. She shivered. She had always been exceptionally ticklish and was now quite unnerved about what lay ahead. She barely noticed as her bra was lifted up revealing her soft nipples and she had completely forgotten about the additional audience member in the room.
Martin traced a finger around each nipple, maddeningly slowly but occasionally picking up speed just slightly. Holly meanwhile took a pair of scissors and carefully snipped Hannah’s panties, revealing a neatly trimmed line of blonde hair running up towards the masking tape securing her tummy.
Holly dipped her fingers in some massage oil and, without warning, started to stroke gently down Hannah’s outer lips. The sensation was pleasing and Hannah was relieved that she was actually secretly enjoying it. As Martin stroked her nipples in slow circles, Holly was gently spreading apart her pussy, massaging it from side to side, but never making contact with her clit.
After ten minutes or so, Hannah began to groan gently, her neatly pony-tailed blonde hair gently bobbing from side to side as she shook her head. Her clit was beginning to stand to attention and moisture seeped between her legs. Adrian the shopkeeper smiled.
After fifteen minutes the stimulation suddenly stopped and Hannah let out another soft moan. She tried to lift herself up to get some relief for her clit, but the restraints held firm. Hannah’s eyes widened in disbelief as she saw Martin and Holly each pick out a couple of long, firm, feathers.
“You now have a minimum of forty-five minutes feather stimulation. If you orgasm during it, we will carry on regardless. If you haven’t orgasmed by 1’o’clock we will carry on regardless for another hour. Try to time your orgasm well!”
Hannah began to realise the true implication of her predicament. Having been stimulated intensely for fifteen minutes, she would soon be desperate for an orgasm, but perhaps unable to reach one. And if she could manage to reach one, then she risked the utter torment of post-orgasm stimulation. She had only had one boyfriend previously, and he once stroked her clit immediately after she orgasmed. She remembered how unbearable it had felt and was now seriously concerned.
“Please just let me orgasm and then release me”, she begged nervously. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Martin and Holly didn’t acknowledge her but started stroking a long feather around the edge of her pussy lips, still carefully avoiding her clit. Hannah thought she was going to go insane: it was a combination of the ticklish stimulation which aroused incredible feelings, albeit insufficient to take her to orgasm, combined with the complete impossibility of escape from the chair. She struggled and tested the handcuffs to no avail as Holly ran a feather gently around each nipple.
Hannah noticed that around half-an-hour had passed and thought that she might just about be able to endure these sensations until 1’o’clock, but then remembered she had to orgasm in order for them to stop, but hopefully not too early that she would endure post-orgasm torture: that would simply be too much to take. She started moaning, partly involuntarily, but partly because she thought she may be able to convince her tormenters that she was on the brink of orgasm and they may show mercy. “Please don’t think about faking an orgasm”, said Martin firmly. “We are highly experienced in this and know what is real.”
Hannah glanced nervously at the clock and saw there was around 20 minutes to the next hour. She could get through this if she held her nerve. But then she remembered that she was utterly helpless and could only look down as Holly slowly tickled her nipples with the long feathers. Rattling the handcuffs behind her, she pleased for mercy once more. This fell on deaf ears as Martin gently spread apart her pussy with his fingers and moved the feather closer to her clit. On the one hand, it was aching for a touch, but Hannah was not sure she could cope with the tickling sensation of the feather. It would surely drive her insane.
She found out soon enough as the feather brushed lightly across the tip of her clit. Martin was truly an expert in this and she started gasping as the feather went round and round in small concentric circles. Fifteen minutes to the top of the hour, and Hannah was confident that she could now control and time her orgasm so that it arrived just seconds before 1’o’clock. She would then be free to go. She felt sure they would be true to their word in this regard.
Round and round the feather went – occasionally a little faster, and then maddeningly slowly – just up and down the tip of her now erect clit. Martin continued to spread her pussy with his fingers and she had never felt so vulnerable.
Ten minutes. She could feel her orgasm starting to build and she was hoping she could perfect the timing to her ultimate advantage. Round and round went the feather, but would it give her sufficient stimulation to climax – she wasn’t totally sure.
Five minutes before one, and Hannah suddenly felt a new surge of confidence. Although she couldn’t move her hips she felt her pussy starting to glow and small vibrations pulsating through her clit. Now was the time to focus on achieving orgasm and she gave it all her mental energy. As she felt the feeling building to almost overwhelming levels, the feather slightly slowed its circuit of her clit and she cried out in disbelief: “no, please don’t stop now – I need to orgasm”. Martin chuckled to himself. Most of his victims fell for this trick and Hannah was now poised on the edge of a mind-shattering orgasm.
The clock struck one. Just one chime but it was like a death-knell for Hannah as she came to terms with her predicament. She was now more desperate for an orgasm than she had ever felt in her life. But if she had one, the stimulation would last for another hour and become absolutely unbearable. There was no way she could cope with that, although she was worried she would have no choice.
So she was now stuck on the precipice of a terrible choice: go with the orgasm that she so craved and suffer the consequences, or hold it back for another hour. And she remembered that this cycle of tease and denial could continue for another seven hours.
Martin and Holly exchanged places. Martin joked sardonically to Hannah: “she’s actually better than me at tickling a pussy”. Hannah felt as though she was being driven out of her mind as the feathers resumed their endless journey. Her pussy was no longer being spread open with a tormentor’s fingers but it was so moist that it splayed of its own volition, and completely beyond her control.
Hannah tried to think rational thoughts about boring things to put her orgasm back under control for the next hour, but this was virtually impossible with two feathers tickling slowly around the edge of her clit. Holly bent forward and Hannah could feel her warm breath just millimetres from her clit. She didn’t know if she could withstand another hour of this, let alone seven. She was now starting to appreciate why the reoffending rates from those who have experienced this justice are so low: it was quite simply unbearable in its teasing.
At half-past-one, Hannah thought she might go out of her mind as Holly once again spread apart her pussy. It was wider than she had ever felt it, and now Martin was stroking a feather rapidly up and down in between her lips. “Please, please stop it – I can’t take any more”, begged Hannah, in a whimpering voice.
“Time your orgasm for 2’o’clock and it will all be over” said Martin, “although we might have a bit of fun and slow down in the minutes before again!”. He chuckled at his own little joke but Hannah was not laughing. She was now becoming absolutely desperate to orgasm but not quite receiving sufficient stimulation – it was just too light and tickly. She furiously tried to free her wrists from the handcuffs, imagining what she would do to herself if she had a spare hand.
With twenty minutes to go, Hannah decided she would try to outwit her captors and build herself to an orgasm slightly ahead of schedule. Although she would then be faced with a few minutes of post orgasm tickling on her clit, she felt that it would be preferable to another hour of this which she simply could not imagine enduring. At quarter-to-two, she indeed felt herself starting to build again. Surely this time she would make it and be able to get the relief she so desperately craved.
Martin and Holly sensed that she was building up and slightly slowed down the rhythm of the feathers. The one on her clit now made just a small stroking movement up and down. Hannah thought she would go out of her mind. She pulled and tugged on the handcuffs and begged for mercy but none was shown. She was now starting to realise just how effective this new justice system was. “Please let me orgasm before 2’o’clock, I beg you, I am just so desperate now, my pussy is so wet and my clit aches so much.” Hannah was shocked at her own language but it was part-and-parcel of her current desperation.
With five minutes to go, Hannah tried to buck her hips in rhythm with the feathers, although there was very limited room for mobility as the tape secured her body tightly to the chair and her legs were taped open to the bars on the chair. With only minutes ago, she reached a new phase of desperation and willed herself to have an orgasm. The sensations were absolutely maddening around her pussy but not quite sufficient to take her over the brink.
As the feathers continued to dance around her pussy, Hannah’s heart sank as the clock struck two. She was now in a different state of consciousness and her pussy felt as though a million tiny feathers were stroking it, rather than just the two. She could not possibly endure another one hour cycle of being held at the edge of orgasm, but equally did not seem to have any choice in the matter. He pleas for mercy were ignored as Martin picked up a small ice cube.
“Maybe this will cool you down a little to enable you to enjoy the next hour which are you now committed to.” He laughed gently as he rubbed the ice cube around Hannah’s moist, spread pussy. This was a sensation that she simply could not bear and she desperately tried to gyrate her hips – anything to remove herself from the sensation. Martin persisted though and she felt the ice cube running over the tip of her clit.
She let out a small squeal and suddenly entered a new orgasmic plane. It was building and now felt out of her control. She looked at the clock to remind herself of the time: no – despite needing an orgasm more than she had ever felt in her life, she had to defer it for another fifty minutes or so. The alternative was simply unthinkable. Hannah’s body had different ideas though, and as Martin deftly combined the icecube and the feather the sensations were just so delicious that she felt an orgasm building uncontrollably. Torn between holding it back and wanting it more than anything, she no longer realistically had control over her destiny.
When the orgasm tore through Hannah, she wasn’t even expecting it. It was preceded by a few squeals and the loudest moan heard in the room to date. The earth-shattering force of it took her by surprise and she looked down at her glistening pussy which was now oozing moisture. She had forgotten about the shopkeeper watching the whole episode but he looked at once embarrassed and delighted. More vulnerable than ever, she wrestled with the handcuffs, and as the mindblowing orgasm began to subside she realised that she could absolutely not bear any further tickling stimulation on her clit – she would simply be sent out of her mind.
She looked nervously at the clock. It was five past two. Now Hannah was deeply worried.
To be continued
