Kendall was ticklish. Debilitatingly so. Any times the girls at the sleepover start to ask those silly questions, picking each other’s ribs, she would immediately get on the defense. “Do NOT tickle me,” she would say firmly. “I’ll probably kick you in the face.” The one time Charity tried it, she found her observation was probably correct. Kendall laughed harder and louder than she had heard anyone before, and her entire body spasmed, arms and legs flying for the few seconds she was tickled. “I’m just too ticklish,” she would say, and the girls would drop it. But Charity couldn’t.
Even years later, she couldn’t stop thinking about ticklish Kendall. Thin and flat, beautiful with blonde hair pulled up in a ponytail for cheer practice. Charity was curvy and brunette, feeling like an ugly duckling next to her friend, her friend who abandoned her senior year when she finally broke into the cool crowd. But when she was tickled, a cheeky little pinch here and there that made her squeal and jerk, Charity had the upper hand. But of course, she couldn’t do it for long. She had been kicked and hit before by her intense reaction. But Charity always wondered… how would this girl hold up to a real tickle session?
After graduation, the pair kept at an arms length, Facebook and Instagram liking but not much more. Charity fell into the BDSM and dominatrix scene, and dipped a toe into darker areas of the world. Kendall went to chest at a local Bible college, and was engaged by the time Sophomore year rolled around. Charity saw, congratulated her, and waited for the invitation to roll around. It didn’t. She waited for months until she saw the Instagram post. ‘One week until I marry this one!’ She captioned a photo of her hugging her fiancé, a big link of a man. A preacher to be. Charity was furious at this snub.
She quickly sent a text to one of her new friends. She was warned against talking to him, as he dealt with more unsavory material and favors. But that was exactly was she needed right now.
“Andrew? I need a space. Somewhere exceptionally private.”
“My personal basement is open,” he responded. “But was does it need to be exceptionally private? Aren’t all dungeons private?”
“This one is a little outside of the law. I need sound proof. And I also need someone to… collect someone for me. Could you?”
“My dear, are you finally dipping your toe into less than consensual territory? Took you long enough. Usually revenge is what sets it off, the first one at least. Is this the case?”
“Something like that. Can you do it?”
“Send me a photo.” Charity screenshots the picture of the happy couple and sends it to Andrew.
“The guy or the girl?”
“The girl. But you can take the guy if you want.”
“Maybe later. One at a time is easier. When do you need her?”
“Well, you saw the caption. I need her before her darling nuptials.”
“And the set up?” Charity grins wickedly, taking a sip of her drink.
“I have a few ideas.”
Andrew called Charity about two days later to let her know the asset had been taken. “She’s lovely,” he mused. “I’ll have to take a taste when you’re done.”
“By all means. But I have quite a few plans for her.”
“Well, you have apart 30 minutes until she wakes up.”
Charity hurried to his house, traveling down into his private dungeon, a BDSM wet dream with toys and gadgets for all fantasies and events. Out currently was a table with a dozen types of gags, and another table with a dozen types of tickling instruments. Forks, brushes, feathers, electric tooth brushes, metal tips for your fingers. Anything you could imagine. And of course, there was Kendall.
Just was beautiful and petite as ever, and laid out in the most delicious way. “Isn’t it a wonder,” Andrew said, coming up next to the girl he kidnapped. “My own design. Every inch of her is strapped down to the table.” The table is black and made of thick padding. And he’s right, she’s completely strapped to the table.
Every finger has a little strap holding it down, and ever toe has a strap firing it up into a flex, baring it to the world. Her wrists and elbows and waist and knees and thighs and forehead all held her carefully in place. Charity began to heat up at the sight of it.
“And that’s not even the best part,” Andrew continues. I pulls out a remote and hits a few buttons, and the table begins to move. The unconscious girl is lifted into a sitting position, her arms are spread out into a t pose, and her legs are spread wide to show off her private parts, covered by a tiny bikini held together with loose ties, same as her top. “Any angle you want. Truly remarkable, isn’t it?” Charity nods and kisses him on the cheek.
“You’re a marvel.”
“And in the tables, make sure to check the drawers for more toys.”
Kendall begins to stir, muttering and flexing her muscles. “She’s about to wake up. Blindfold?” Charity shakes her head.
“No. She’s going to watch.” Andrew looks a bit skeptical.
“You won’t be able to let her go after, then.”
“I know,” Charity says simply and then approaches Kendall as her eyelids flutter. Andrew hangs back and lights a cigarette. ‘This outta be good,’ he thinks to himself.
What… Charity?” Kendall asks, looking around, dazed and sluggish. “Where am I?”
“Oh, nowhere. Nowhere anyone will find you.” Kendall tries to move her head and finds it stuck. Charity watches with barely contained glee as she tests out every strap, trying to find some kind of five. There is none.
“Charity, what are you doing? Let me go!” She looks around with just her eyes, one of the few things that she can move, finding Andrew standing and watching hungrily. “Who is he? Where’s Christopher?”
Charity grabs her chin tightly to stop her from talking.
“You won’t be seeing him for quite some time. You’ve been very bad, Kendall. You were a rotten friend.”
“Please, I’m sorry. Just don’t hurt me!”
“Hurt you?” Charity laughs. “How could I hurt you. No, I’m going to teach you a lesson, but it won’t be too painful.” She leans forward and kisses Kendall, who is clearly trying to get away, but can’t. “So lovely,” Charity murmurs. “Now, dear, do you still hate to be tickled?”
Kendall’s eyes go wide and she begins to thrash in her tight bonds. “Charity, let me go! Let me go now!” Charity hits the remote button and Kendall is forced to lay flat on her back, arms and legs spread wide. Charity walks right between her legs to stand over her torso.
“You always said we couldn’t tickle you because we would get kicked or punched and you couldn’t help it. So we wanted to see how you would react if we didn’t let you!”
“Charity, no, no-” Kendall bursts into a peel of laughter after Charity begins to squeeze her hips, rubbing her fingers all over them. The small parts of her body not tied down flex and stretch in a desperate attempt to escape the torture. “Stop it! Stop!”
Charity spends lots of times on her hips before moving up to her ribs. “So skinny! I can count those rib bones, I think. Let me try. One, two,” she makes her and gives every one plenty of attention with her fingers.
“I’M BEGGING YOU, PLEASE STOP!” Kendall screams, barely able to get it would through laughter. Her body is clearly fighting the restraints with all her might, but she can’t move an inch besides squeezing her eyes shut and opening her mouth. Charity knows this frustration must be as horrible as getting tickled, and she savors the panicked look on her face.
“All right, I’ll stop.” She moves her fingers away from her ribs, giving Kendall a moment to pant and catch her breath. She then moves up the the ties holding the bikini top on her victim.
“Wait, what are you doing?” Kendall asks, out of breath, and unable to see what was happening to her.
“Oh, I’m just checking out those little mosquito bites you call breasts. I was wondering if they had grown at all since the last time you dained to speak to me.” Charity rips the top off and chuckles. “Nope. Same old Kendall.” Kendal renews her useless struggles.
“No! Put it back on! Stop it!” Charity pinches her exceptionally small nipples, making her cry out, and then spiders her fingers over Kendall’s bumps. Kendall erupts into small giggles, and her breasts jiggle slightly.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” Andrew comments, watching Charity tease and dig into her former friends breasts.
“Want to join?” Charity calls over, not taking her eyes off her victim and moving her hands down to play with her flat stomach.
“NO!” Kendal screams.
“Sure. But let me make some adjustments.” He walks over to the gag table and plucks out a large red ball gag. He stands by her head, and Kendall rolls her eye balls back as far as she can to see him. “Pardon me, my dear,” he says with a smile, before forcing the ball into her mouth. “I like the laughter and the screams, but I can’t stand the begging. Not when I’m trying to focus, you know?” With a carefully practiced hand, he unties her bikini bottom next, and leaves her bare. She shakes her hips as much as she can, trying to keep it on. “My dear, I hope you weren’t saving yourself for that big oaf.” He runs a few ticklish fingers over her bare pussy, and she squeals. “Don’t worry, I won’t take you tonight. I just want to make you smile.”
“You’re wicked,” Charity chuckles, selecting a pair of brushes from the table of objects and tosses one to him. They both walk over to a foot, observing it flex uncomfortably.
“Shall we?” Andrew asks.
“I think our girl deserves a good cry after all the things she’s been through, don’t you?”
“Hmmmmm!” Kendall moans through her gag.
“I bet I can make her cry first.”
“You can try.” They both begin to brush the girls souls. First very, very lightly. Kendall’s laughter becomes extremely light and high pitched, up several octaves from her normal laughter. Then they brush harder, making her laughter become more strangled and desperate. They keep going on the still feet, merciless, until Charity looks up and sees that Kendall is both laughing and sobbing, her face tomato red with tears streaming down her face.
“Ha! I win,” Charity says proudly, slowing to a light toe tickle, sending Kendall into a fit of little giggles.
“No, I win!” Andrew argues playfully.
“I guess we’ll need a new challenge,” Charity says in a teasing voice, setting down the brush. “Want to see who can make her piss herself first?”
“HMMMMMMM!” Kendall screams, and they both laugh.
“How about we each take an armpit?” Andrew offers. As they take their places, Charity brushes a sweaty hunk of blonde hair off of Kendall’s forehead with a smile.
“This is going to be a very long night for you. But I’m so excited we’ll be getting reacquainted.”
.
.
.
Three days later, Andrew is hosting a lovely soiree in his home, with invites only to people ‘in the know.’ “Usually it takes a year or so to get invites to things like this,” he told Charity before the party. “Make sure you’re not a cop or something. But when you provide entertainment, you tend to slide up the list.”
People have snacks and drink and chat upstairs, but the ‘real’ party is downstairs, and you can hear the laughter floating up the stairs.
“Down here we have the lovely Miss Tickle Tied. So ticklish we have to strap down every inch of her so she doesn’t go flying off the table,” Andrew announces with a flourish to every guest. Charity stands by the display and offers guests an array of toys for people to try on the petite blonde woman.
Kendall is still stuck in the padded chair, now configured so she’s sitting up, and her legs as spread wide and angled up. Even with her cheerleading background, it’s a stretch. Her mouth is stuffed with cloth, and a piece of clear tape with a red lipstick kiss on top is over her mouth. She’s completely bare besides a clothespin someone had places over her nipples. Her limbs are trembling from exhaustion, and she can barely laugh any more, she’s so out of breath. Her entire body is red, and Charity made sure to put lots of mascara on Kendall so everyone could see it stream down her face from sweat and tears.
Every moment for the last two hours she has been tickled. People running stiff feathers between her breasts, people squeezing and drilling her hips and ribs, one man who sat for almost thirty minutes with a fork, dragging it up and down her foot. Now it finally seems that her body is giving her some mercy and letting her pass out from exhaustion. Charity takes notice and makes an announcement.
“It seems that our toy is a little sleepy. We don’t want that, do we?” The crowd roars in mock disapproval, and Kendall’s heart sinks. But what can they do? She closes her eyes and hopes that sleep with take her.
Charity coaxes one of the party goers forward, and whispers in his ear, pressing an electric toothbrush into his hand. He smiles, and approaches the girl. Kendalls eyelids flutter forward, just in time to hear him turn on the toothbrush and pres sit against her exposed asshole. Her eyes bug out of her head and she tries to throw herself forward, screaming. The crowd laughs.
“There! That woke her up, didn’t it! I guess we need to focus on her more sensitive areas to keep her active, shall we?” As Kendall screamed and laughed and moaned from his new torture, she just barely hears Charities final announcement. “And be sure to come back next weekend, when we have Miss Tickle Tied’s partner here to join us. It will be a night you won’t want to miss!”