Featherscape
patreon
Tickle Sorority '93 ~ Cat Toy
🕑 Added 2022-05-05 11:06:09 +0000 UTCThe pitch waves of Patricia’s hair fluttered by a gentle breeze. The midday sun basked Ophelia Park in gentle rays. Students congregated to enjoy the pleasant weather. Some walked past Patricia, chatting among themselves. Others made soft beds of warm grass in which to read and work on school work. More played volleyball and tossed Frisbees to one another. Patricia passed by all of them without so much as a glance. With a powerful stride and wealthily tailored suit, she made her way up the Second Circle House, home to a privately owned sorority associated with Artemis University. The house was distanced from campus, separated only by a short walk through Ophelia Park. Patricia’s heels clicked against the paved road leading up to the massive estate. It towered over the land hosting floors of dormitories that stretched back deep within the surrounding acres on which it sat.
The main house had Grecian columns meet its guests at the double doors, flourish that Patricia stared up to while approaching. She passed several other girls leaving the house in smiling, chattering groups. Based on her conservative taste in suits and the phlegmatic resting state of her expression, Patricia would often be mistaken as a member of the faculty rather than a freshman. They stared as many often did. The looks she got were nothing new to her. She pressed forward, caring little about the affirmation of others. In between her fingers, she passively toyed with a small silver charm with an engraved paw-print design on the front. Her nails were black and claw-like. She glided up the stairs toward the doors, every step made with purpose. She walked up to the doors just before they opened before her.
“O-oh,” a woman said in shock. She brushed it off with a short chuckle. “Well, that’s funny. I was actually just coming out to meet you down at the steps. You’re Patricia Tills, right?”
“Mistress Stone, correct?” Patricia asked in response. Mistress Lyra Stone paused, taken back by Patricia’s dead-voiced seriousness.
“I-er-yes,” Lyra said. “Thank you for being on time.”
“Of course,” Patricia said, pocketing the charm in her hand. Lyra waited for her to fill more of the silence, but was quickly the first to give in.
“Right, well, come on in,” Lyra said. She led Patricia through the open doors, propping them open with door stops. “It’s a nice day, we’ll get some air flowing.
Stepping across the threshold to the house, Patricia gave the lobby a quick scan. White walls and marble floor popped with red accents on curtains, hanging decor, and furniture. Plush couches and armchairs all sat in intimate clusters. Bookshelves lined one open area as a common lounge while the other side boasted a small bar and impressively sized CRT. Paintings of vague subjects that invoked themes of eroticism hung along the walls. The air was cut with an alluring fragrance of musk and potpourri. Several girls sat in the chairs speaking among themselves while others worked at the bar out of their school books. A gentle piano recording played over a speaker system through the hall.
“First off, I wanted to say thank you for meeting with me,” said Lyra, walking up behind Patricia. Patricia turned. She held herself professionally before one of the Mistresses of the house, the primary facility caretakers. Mistress Lyra Stone was the youngest of the Mistresses that Patricia had met with before during her interview. She wore wire-framed glasses that kept sliding down her nose. She met Patricia’s eyeline almost perfectly though her gaze shifted often while speaking. Modestly dressed, more so than most of the girls that came through the lobby hall, Lyra had come to meet with Patricia in a pair of sandy beige dress pants and a cream-colored blouse. She held two file folders in her hands, clenching them to her chest. Lyra led Patricia further back into the house, toward the first floor halls.
“My pleasure,” Patricia said, walking alongside the house Mistress. The halls of the house radiated just as much prestige and refinement. Fine art and accolades of the members and faculty alike were on full display. The crest for the Second Circle Sisterhood was a subtle, yet prevalent touch in most of the deco. Other members, sisters, walked by engaged in their own idle conversations.
“I know you’ve been very eager to get more hands-on experience, Miss Tills,” said Lyra.
“Thank you for being so accommodating for someone as new as me,” the young student walking by her side replied. “And it’s Patricia.”
“Right, we just try to be courteous around here,” said Lyra. She led Patricia down the main corridor of the first floor, which contained many of the study rooms, recreation areas, lounges and communal spaces. The halls leading inward were a deeper shade of red. Patricia walked beside the Mistress, strength and confidence in her gait. The girl herself was sculpture and watercolor as one. Long black hair teased down the back of her neck. Her skin was as smooth as glass that could be cut out of her own sideways smile.
“Of course, Mistress,” Patricia muttered.
“And I suppose you’re aware of the nature of the Sisterhood, correct?” Lyra asked. Patricia grinned.
“I am,” she said. “Tickling.” Lyra nodded.
“Among other things. It’s a little more involved than that. We focus on self-exploration, on studying ourselves, freeing our tastes, and learning how to incorporate all of this into a friendly and welcoming collective.” Lyra paused. “I guess ‘collective’ makes it sound like a cult.” Patricia chuckled.
“A little,” she said.
“We’re not though.”
“I know,” said Patricia. “I get it.” Lyra smiled and rubbed the back of her head.
“The, uh, other Mistresses are better at this than me,” said Lyra as she chuckled and wiped a bead of sweat from her head.
“You’re doing fine,” Patricia said. Lyra stood tall in her walk and cleared her throat.
“We’ve all seen great potential in you,” she said, “and expressing your interest in learning more certainly helped. Not many new sisters take such an initiative.”
“Excited to get started,” said Patricia.
“That’s good,” said Lyra. The pair walked past a series of closed doors that Patricia knew to be recreation rooms for the sorority members. Melodic and often frantic laughter seeped from behind each of them. Some contained sharp slaps and cracks while others exhibited moans and heavy breathing. Patricia drank it all in with a smirk. “Now, we do try to keep the, uh, ‘lessons’ contained toward the back half of the house just to allow the front half and more common areas to be more mild and respectful.” Patricia said nothing in response. She simply walked by Lyra’s side, taking in the music from behind the doors.
The pair turned a corner and approached another closed door. Lyra examined the folders in her hand. She flipped forward, bypassing Patricia’s application and studying another.
“Well, your application and initiative certainly struck a chord with me and the other Mistresses” Lyra started, “and we wanted to get a little more insight as to what all it is you hope to gain from this community.” Lyra paused and reflected for a moment. “That’s… their words. Basically we wanted to examine your conduct within the positions that we encourage.”
“That’s almost a more vague way of putting it,” Patricia said. Lyra laughed.
“Hehe, yeah, I did say they were better at this, didn’t I?” Lyra asked rhetorically. “Well, we crafted a sort of ‘assessment’ for you based on your interests and personality. Also as kind of an ‘ice-breaker’ to help new sisters become more accommodated with their peers. With that, we lined up a partner for you. Another freshman applicant who we thought would be a good match for you. She was almost as enthusiastic, though in the… other way.”
“Oh?” Patricia asked.
“A real cutie,” Lyra said. “We wanted to set up a liaison between you two to examine strengths, areas of improvement, compatibility, that sort of thing.”
“A blind date?” Patricia asked. Lyra nodded.
“Not quite,” she said. “Could be. Is for a lot of girls. But this is more about establishing a connection and clear role dynamic. You expressed exclusive interest in dominating, correct?”
“Yes,” said Patricia bluntly.
“Good,” said Lyra. “Because your partner opted for the other. She’s currently in this room here waiting for you.” Patricia chuckled.
“Eager to get started,” Patricia said. “What all do you want me to do?”
“Basically, we’re going to give you both an hour together, alone so as not to be impeded with an audience,” Lyra started. “I’ll go over this better with you both, but you’ll dominate her, go through the whole experience, and after I’ll ask you both a few questions to evaluate your response and feelings and such.” Patricia nodded and smirked.
“I see,” she said. “And she’s in here?”
“Yes,” Lyra said. “I still need to properly brief you both, so let’s get started.” Lyra reached for the door, but Patricia grabbed the handle and pushed it open. She walked in first and looked around.
Inside the recreation room, the scent of leather and sweat permeated the air. The room was cut with a lingering warmth, forever stained by the ghosts of lustful affairs. The more taboo sexual nature of the sorority, marginally hidden from public view and spoken about in passing like a local mythos, became abundantly apparent in the moment of walking in. Patrcia’s eyes soaked it all in, unsurprised and undeterred. Whips of varying thickness and length hung coiled like snakes ready to bite. Chains and cuffs were on display and organized to be readily accessible. Gags, blindfolds, and masks were neatly arranged in their own sections, bringing a pristine elegance to otherwise tawdry decor. In many designated areas, tools that could only be utilized for tickling purposes were laid out and categorized. Feathers and brushes and varying vibrators mingled within their own little colorful families.
Across the floor were peculiar and unique pieces of furniture. Elaborate bondage devices stood around the room like gym machinery, ready to claim their next captives. Thick, padded cushions lined most of the devices, all branching in unique formations. Belts and cuffs hung off of them like tassels. They shimmered with cleanliness, hungering to fulfill their purpose. One stood upright in the shape of an X. Another was a basic bench with stocks at one end. Another was a rig and pulley system which featured a simple pair of cuffs dangling much higher than either Patricia or Lyra could comfortably stand. Patricia’s eyes gave each a passive examination as she walked in, giving no attention to the girl standing from a chair as they entered.
“Patricia?” Lyra asked. Patricia gave her no mind. She started slowly around the room, looking at and touching the house’s unique collection of toys as she passed. Lyra started over toward the other girl. She looked to her and smiled. “You okay?”
“Y-yes, Mistress,” she said. The girl’s voice was small and shy. She adjusted a large, round pair of glasses on her face. Her features were slender and minimal. A yellow plaid skirt hung loosely off of her hips. She wore a pair of white sandals and a matching button-up to compliment them. Her hair was deep brown and twirled down her shoulders in braided pigtails. She fidgeted as she stood, looking over to Patricia wandering around.
“Patricia?” Lyra asked again. Patricia took a beat before looking back over. Her expression showed no shift or change. “This is going to be your partner for the assessment.” The other girl raised her hand and smiled bashfully.
“Hello,” she said. Patricia’s eyes avoided her. She made her way up to the two in silence.
“Patricia, this is Stephanie Jensen,” said Lyra. Stephanie stood smiling sweetly with her hands clasped in front of her waist. “She’s a freshman, an anthropology major. She was also of interest to the Mistresses and we wanted to test the dynamic here. You looking to be one role and her the other, as it were.” Patricia’s gaze drifted to Stephanie's. Stephanie smiled meekly. She shivered , her skin rising with small bumps. Her hands clenched tightly, her shoulders slouching over. Patricia looked her over and sighed.
“I have an hour with her?” Patricia asked. Lyra nodded.
“Yes, well, you two have an hour together,” she said. “I suppose I should go over the goal here. Patricia, you expressed interest in dominating, being a ‘dom’ as we call it.” Patricia gave another bored sigh, her eyes lazily falling away disinterested. “Stephanie here wanted to try a subservient tickle session with what we felt was compatible energy.” Stephanie shifted uncomfortably. She looked down at her feet as a warmth began showing on her cheeks. “So, yes, we’re going to give you two an hour to become acquainted with each other through these roles. You won’t be watched, this is primarily about getting to know one another, so try not to be nervous.” Lyra looked to Stephanie. “Okay?”
“O-okay,” Stephanie said, still looking down. “Er-yes, Mistress.”
“She’s still new, Patricia, so remember that we’re all getting acquainted here,” Lyra continued. “The goal here is to feel welcomed and comfortable. If there’s anything that you need to go over together, do it before you do anything else. Respect each other’s boundaries and limitations. I’d advise to stick to tickling for now, but if either of you would like to go farther than that, be open and direct about it. Make sure anything you do is mutually agreed upon. Maybe try to stay away from using the gags or anything else that may hinder the safeword, which is what, Stephanie?”
“Cherry,” Stephanie said.
“Good,” Lyra said. She turned back to Patricia. “You know the deal. She says ‘cherry’ and you must stop. Whatever it is that you’re doing, you stop.” Patricia stared back stoically. She huffed a little before looking back to Stephanie.
“Yes, Mistress,” Patricia said quietly.
“Pretty basic protocols here, but very important that we make the house a safe place to express ourselves and engage with one another. Do either of you have any questions before you begin?”
“No,” Patricia said. Stephanie thought for a moment.
“N-no, Mistress,” she said.
“Okay then, then I will leave you both to it,” Lyra said. “I will be back in an hour to assess both of your personal experiences.” Lyra made her way back over to the door. She held the handle in her hand before turning back toward the girls. “And thank you again for going along with our little ice-breaker experiment. We like to try and build strong connections here and hope that you two will come together well.” Without more to say, Lyra gave them both a slight smile before leaving, shutting the door behind her.
Stephanie stood motionless after Lyra left her alone in the room with Patricia, a deafening silence cutting through the air. Slight sounds came amplified to unbearable degrees. The air conditioner seemed to roar. The chattering from the lobby might as well have been from right outside. Even her own breathing came to her as heavy panting. Her hands wrung one another in front of her. A heat gnashed against her chest. The tension Patricia brought with her held her in place. Stephanie shook her head, attempting to clear her mind. She pushed her glasses back up her nose with her index finger. Several wasted seconds passed of the girls standing in their own estranged company. Stephanie looked over to Patricia to find her as calm as ever, making no effort to take advantage of the time they had been allotted. Reluctant to make the first move, Stephanie spoke up, determined to fill the void surrounding them both with anything.
“S-so, um… I’m actually pretty new to all of this,” she said. “I’ve just always wanted to try… you know, this sort of thing. Kind of hoping that college would be a chance at a fresh start, being away from parents and all… Um, how do you think we should-”
“The Y-Frame,” Patricia said, nodding toward a padded, reclined Y-Frame device off to their side. Stephanie took a beat before looking over. With an unsuspecting arrangement of branching pads, the Y-Frame laid back in the shape of its name. It had a single thick bench with a short hinged stock at one end. The other half featured a reclined padded surface that branched out at the top in a splaying V-shape formation. Straps hung down off of it. The device had one clear application, though with some creativity and slight modifications, it could also be used to maintain a reversed position for its captive. Stephanie swallowed.
“O-okay,” she said, walking up to it. “So, how do you want to go about this? I was thinking-”
“Get on,” Patricia said, firmly. Stephanie froze for a second. Patricia sighed, catching Stephanie’s eyes. “You are here to do what I say. You will follow my orders and you will do so referring to me respectfully. Or is that too much for your simple mind to understand?” Stephanie shivered a little. Her skin rose in goosebumps as a chill blew past her arms. A soft, crimson hue rushed to her cheeks. “Well?”
“N-n-no… m-ma’am,” Stephanie stuttered out. Patricia came closer.
“Then why are you still standing?” she asked. Stephanie turned to face the device. With an instinctual burst of urgency, she took a seat. Stephanie positioned herself across the device. She leaned against the back and placed her ankles in the groove of the stocks below. She looked back at Patricia, waiting for the validation of her efforts. Patricia huffed, clearly unimpressed by her performance up to that point.
“I-is… is this okay?” Stephanie started.
“Did I give you permission to speak?” Patricia snapped. Stephanie looked down. She started to answer before clamping her lips shut. Patricia walked around the frame, looking down at her. “While you are mine, you will not speak unless specifically asked a question. You will reply briefly and politely. Understand?” Stephanie shivered and nodded her head.
“Y-yes ma’am,” she said softly. Patricia grabbed Stephanie’s wrist and pulled her arm up. Her other hand swiftly jetted into her armpit, scribbling her nails methodically against the slick, bare skin. Stephanie let out a sharp yelp into a fit of laughter. She toppled over off the frame, catching herself with one arm before hitting the floor. Patricia held firmly onto her wrist.
“Oh, so you can be louder?” Patricia asked.
“Yes, ma’am!” Stephanie replied, her voice raised. Patricia let go of her wrist and Stephanie sloppily picked herself back up, reassuming her place on the frame. She sniffled and started to breathe heavier. Patricia grabbed a hold of one of Stephanie’s pigtails and pulled her head to one side. She leaned in close to her ear.
“You wanted this, didn’t you?” Patricia asked in a whisper. “I know your type. Just a dirty, sheltered little girl. Always did what you’re told because you like it. You get off on it. Always afraid of what daddy might think if he ever caught you touching at night imagining what it would be like to be someone’s tickle pet. Who was it, I wonder? A boy? A girl? Maybe a professor you suspected of stealing glances. Or a neighbor, married and always seemed to be gardening while you laid out by the pool. You wanted this, remember? Because you’re just a dirty little girl, aren’t you?” Stephanie whimpered. With every word, her heart pounded harder in her chest. She bit her lip and trembled slightly.
“Y-y-yes, ma’am,” Stephanie whined. Patricia grabbed Stephanie’s wrist again and jerked it up. “Ah, yes ma’am!” Yes, I’m a… dirty girl…”
“I know,” Patricia said. She belted Stephanie’s wrist to one of the branching pads, holding her arm upright. Another belted strap tightened around her elbow, keeping her arm straight. “That’s why I’m going to do whatever I want with you today and you’re going to be grateful for every second of it.” Patricia strapped Stephanie’s other arm in a mirrored fashion, leaving her upper body bound in a Y-formation. She pinched the side of Stephanie’s glasses and removed them from her face. Below, Patricia traced Stephanie’s long, bare legs. She laced another leather strap across her thighs and calves, buckling her tightly against the seat below. Patricia followed Stephanie’s body down to her ankles. They sat in the singular groove of the attached stock. She closed the latch, the inside padded for comfort and additional fortification, and locked it tight. Stephanie watched Patricia’s every move as best as she could through her impaired vision. She pulled a little at each of the binds holding her as a means of testing their stability. The more she became bound to the device, the faster her heart continued to race.
“You’ve never been tied up like this, have you?” Patricia asked. Stephanie watched carefully as Patricia started loosening her sandals. A devilish coolness came over her temperate feet the moment she had them bared. Her red-painted toes squirmed in their utmost vulnerability. Stephanie shivered.
“N-no, ma’am,” she said.
“Didn’t think so,” Patricia said. Slowly, she unveiled each of Stephanie’s feet. Long and slender, they seemed to blush at being seen. Their protection laid neatly by the end of the device. Patricia studied them, more so watching Stephanie’s rising anxiety the longer she lingered by the area.
“Y-you’re….” Stephanie started. Patricia’s eyes pierced through her. Even without her glasses, the weight of Patricia’s stare made her clamp her lips shut.
“What was that?” Patricia asked. Stephanie whimpered and shook her head. "Hm, must be hearing things.” A gentle swipe of one long, black nail against Stephanie’s sole made her shriek. Her arms instinctively tugged, rattling the cuffs holding them up.
“A-aaahhhheheheehaha!” Stephanie laughed. Her eyes were sturdily locked on Patricia down at her feet, wide and quaking. Her lips parted to allow heavier breaths in and out more rapidly. Her feet were warm and soft. Patricia relished the feel that came with so much delightful sensitivity.
“Hm, very nice,” she said with a slight smile. “More ticklish than they look. You’ve kept them well.” Patricia waited with another swipe. Stephanie jerked again in her binds, one foot covering the one in focus. She squealed into a fit of giggles. “Well? What do you say?” Patricia sent another slow drag of her nail across Stephanie’s long arch.
“Aaahhhhhhhahahahaaa!! Thahahank you, ma’am!” Stephanie shrieked. Patricia flicked off her nail right at the base of her toes.
“We’ll have to work on your manners for when someone gives you something you asked for,” Patricia said. Three tickles against her exposed, vulnerable feet and Stephanie was already panting. Patricia’s presence and control over the session gnawed at her more. Patricia chuckled a little. She readied herself at Stephanie’s feet, nervously awaiting her indulgence.
“S-sorry, ma’am,” Stephanie said. “I… I’m sorry, ma’am.” Her voice shook as she spoke up. She steadied her breath. Patricia smirked.
“Hm… good girl,” she said, whispering through a smirk. She swiped another nail across Stephanie’s soles. Stephanie shrieked into another fit of giggles, mellowing out more and more the longer Patricia kept up the teasing. Patricia combated the stasis by adding another nail, two simultaneously swiping and scribbling against Stephanie’s creamy soft arches.
“Naaaahahahahahahaaa!!!” Stephanie’s laughter broke through the giggles. She twisted as much as she could against the binds holding her in the Y-formation. Unable to see clearly, Stephanie had no means of predicting Patricia’s style of tickles or when they would start again after one of her sporadic breaks. Each little tickle exploded through her nerves. Her feet squirmed and toes curled. Every small flurry of laughter was broken up with periods of mild gasping. A glimmer of fear came to her expression. Patricia knew that Stephanie had a safeword and was delighted to not hear it.
“Such a fun spot to play with,” Patricia commented. “You really are quite the sensitive one. I was hoping for more of a challenge, but I suppose I’ll have to settle for seeing how far I can push you past your limits.” Five scribbling nails focused on a single spot right in the center of Stephanie’s arch. Stephanie let out a loud, lasting squeal that fed into another wave of ticklish laughter.
“Naahahahahahaaahaa!!! Oh my gaaaahahahahahaaaa!!!” Stephanie cried. She pulled at the stock holding her feet together and available for Patricia’s devilish nails. Her head shook side to side. Her pigtails flapped and flayed, becoming more loose the more her head flailed. Patricia scraped against the plush, delicate area. She traced her nails across the wrinkles that Stephanie made for her like little paths through a map. Her nails danced all around her arch, scanning over every little spot before gliding down to her heel. The tickles were highly concentrated and placed with experienced precision. Patricia’s hand followed her foot’s attempts to elude her efforts. Each of her five nails tasted the smoothness of her skin, Patricia soaking in the delightful song of her laughter.
“Aww, my pet, we’re only getting started,” Patricia said. She switched her hand over to Stephanie’s other foot. Methodically, her nails continued skittering in their small circles as they had been. Stephanie’s laughter was constant and rising in volume. Where there had been breaks to allow Stephanie the chance to wade into her own pool of hysteria, Patricia kept the tickles flowing with little indication of when or for how long she may stop again. Circling her heel and making her way up the other arch, Patricia subdued her own desires to study Stephanie’s reactions to each spot. No way that her foot flailed in response kept her from enduring wave after wave of tickles up from her warm, blushing sole. Patricia’s nails dug in quick scribbles against the center of her other arch.
“NNNNNAAAAAAAahahahahahaaaaa!!! D-aaaaaaahahahahaahaha-n’t!!!” Stephanie screamed with ticklish desperation. Patricia chuckled. She kept up the method for as long as Stephanie’s laughter remained loud and constant.
“Pathetic,” Patricia said with a sigh. “We’ll have to work on that endurance too, it seems.” As Stephanie’s laughter started to subside, Patricia added her other hand to Stephanie’s vacant foot. A scream bursting with laughter shot out from Stephanie’s lips. Her back arched, her arms pulling at their straps. Her hands clenched, balling into pitiful little fists.
“AAAAHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHHAHAAAA!!! NAAHAHAHAHAHAT THAHAHAHATT!! PLEEEHAHAHAHAHSSSEEE!!!” Stephanie cried out. Patricia continued tickling in the same manner, undeterred by Stephanie’s screaming pleas. Her spidering nails traced over each foot, covering every inch in wild ticklish scribbling. Stephanie’s body jerked. Her back arched again and again, trying desperately to free her ankles from the stock. Tears began forming into the corners of her eyes. Her chest and belly started to ache from the constant laughter and heavy gasping. Sweat started to trickle down the side of her face. All from a few minutes of Patricia’s precise tickling scanning over each of her soles.
“I’ll assume you’ve never been tickled like this before either,” Patricia said. “Always wanted it but can you handle it?” Patricia listened closely to Stephanie’s laughter. Still no safeword. Its absence brought just as much a smirk to Patricia's face as Stephanie’s laughter. “So loud. Don’t think this is how bad it’ll get. I’m still getting started.” Her nails scratched their way up to the base of Stephanie’s toes. On each foot, Patricia’s fingers wedged just beneath her toes, scratching liberally at the long, slender stems. Stephanie howled. A new wave of ferocity came to her voice, her screams of laughter filling the room.
“NAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHATTT THE TOEEESSAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!” Stephanie bellowed. Her laughter reached new octaves. Her feet flailed, yet could do nothing to protect themselves from Patricia’s claws. Her nails teased across the pads and scraped into the especially sensitive stems. She focused all ten nails on Stephanie’s toes. Patricia smirked watching the girl shriek and cry out with laughter, examining the way her body moved in its ticklish frenzy to best keep up with it. Her focused efforts on such small areas left Stephanie screaming with laughter. Desperation grew in her voice the longer it continued, teasing her with how little control she had over sensations flowing through her.
“How often would you fantasize about being in this exact position?” Patricia asked. “All helpless, wanting so badly to be tickled by anyone. A lot, I bet. But I still haven’t heard any of that gratitude for doing this for you. It’s really quite generous of me, isn’t it?” Patricia’s nails worked their way in between Stephanie’s toes. They feasted on the slick, delicate crevices. Stephanie’s fists clenched once more, her arms pulling hard as she let out a loud, pitiful squeal.
“EEEEKKKKKEEEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! YEEEEHEEHEEHAHAHAHAHASSSS!!! THAHAHAHAHAHNK YOU MAAHAHAHAHAAAA’AM!!!” Stephanie shrieked. Patricia gave a soft chuckle. She kept a close watch on Stephanie’s dwindling composure. As her laughter began to fade, replaced by aching gasps, Patricia drew her hands back.
Stephanie’s body slumped against the device holding her down. Her hair had loosened and frayed. Her once pasty white cheeks had become a deep pink. Her chest heaved, her mouth hung open gulping in deep breaths. Her hands and feet fell limp, no longer bolstering the energy to clench and struggle. Sweat had begun to seep into her clothes. A warm aura of musk shrouded her weary body. Patricia stood and watched Stephanie recover on her own. Stephanie’s eyes fluttered. A small smile came to her face.
“W-wow… I… I’ve never…” Stephanie started. Patricia walked up her body. Her fingers stroked around her cheek with a tender touch before shocking Stephanie by gripping her chin and pulling Stephanie’s gaze towards hers.
“Did I say you could talk?” Patricia asked. Stephanie swallowed and trembled.
“N-no, ma’am,” she said. The smile faded from both of their lips. Patricia’s eyes narrowed on Stephanie’s face, cutting like razors with just a look.
“We’re far from done here,” Patricia said. “And if you’re going to be anyone’s sub, you’ll need to learn your place.” Her hand let go of Stephanie’s chin. It drifted down to the collar of her shirt. One by one, Patricia began to free each button moving down. Stephanie watched as Patricia slowly unbuttoned her shirt. A white bra began to show as did the humid blush of her skin underneath. Patricia stopped just before she reached the last button. She looked Stephanie in the face. “Now’s your chance to stop me.” She paused. Stephanie sucked down another hard gulp, staring back with blurred vision. She remained firm and silent. “No? Good girl.”
Patricia snapped off the last button, flinging Stephanie’s shirt wide open. She exposed all of Stephanie’s midsection. A white padded bra rose and fell with deep breaths. Her sides and ribs were slender without being athletic. Her belly was a supple creature, innocent and defenseless. Her navel was shallow. Her stomach pulsed with her nervous breathing. Patricia knelt to admire Stephanie’s bare midsection more closely. She extended a finger and placed it up near Stephanie's sternum, trailing down slowly in an S formation. Stephanie squealed once again.
“Eeeekkkhheeeheheeheehehahahaahahaaa!!!” Stephanie giggled. Her laughs became louder and more squeaky the closer Patricia’s nail came to her belly button. Another snaking trace up her belly to her chest kept Stephanie squirming in her binds, followed by another and another back and forth. Her head flung side to side. Her thighs pressed hard together. Her hips squirmed and danced for Patricia’s torturously light touch.
“Ticklish belly too,” Patricia commented. “So soft. So helpless. Nothing you can do but take it.” Her nail skated back down to her navel and stopped. It circled around the plush hole, scribbling and gliding over the singular spot. Stephanie’s laughter picked up again. She threw her head back as ticklish sensations began exploding through her from her exposed belly.
“NAAAAAHhahahahahahaaaa!!! Stahahahahahaaaaaa!!!” Stephanie shrieked. Patricia continued circling with maddening consistency. Stephanie’s belly pulsed more and more, but could do nothing to escape Patricia’s nail, hungry for her laughter. It playfully scratched and teased the area, biding the time she had to make it so much worse for the girl.
“Such soft, ticklish skin,” Patricia said. “Shame it hasn’t been played with more. Maybe you wouldn’t be so desperate for it now.” One nail quickly became five, branching and spreading outward. Stephanie howled more. Her laughter seemed to explode through the room. Five clawing, scratching nails expertly taunted her delicate belly. They danced and spidered around, leaving Stephanie screaming into a rage of ticklish laughter.
“AAAAHHHHHHHHAHAHAHHAHAHAAA!!!!” Stephanie cried out. Tears began trickling down her cheeks. Faster and faster the nails picked up against her trembling belly. They teased around her navel, scribbled up and down , and explored every inch of her stomach like children rushing a playground. Patricia let Stephanie soak in the new intensity of tickles before increasing them still. Her other hand began to gnaw at her side. It pinched the side in one clawing hand, moving up and down to find the most reactive tickle spot.
“You like this, don’t you, my little tickle pet,” Patricia teased more. Stephanie squealed with each gnawing pinch. Her other hand dashed all five nails in a clustered whirlwind of tickles, tearing across Stephanie’s delicate belly. They splayed and danced and scratched carefully farming for the most tickles. Stephanie’s side and ribs became the focus of Patricia’s other hand. She squirmed and screamed against her binds, twisting and pulling for any room with which to free herself from the tickles if only for a second. Patricia snickered. She reverted back to a single nail. It spun like an ice skater across Stephanie’s stomach, scratching where it teased. It coiled in direction around Stephanie’s navel, circling closer and closer. Stephanie shook her head through her hysteria. The moment the nail dipped into her belly button, Stephanie let out another wailing shriek of laughter.
“AAAAAHHHHHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!! OHMYGAAHAHAHAHAHAHAADDD!!!” Stephanie cried. Patricia admired the girl’s song as she scratched her way inside the shallow navel. Her nail scraped against the inner walls, so tender and delicate. It could cover nearly the entire area with a single pass. As if pressing a button to activate the apex of Stephanie’s ticklish agony, Patricia remained exploring the precious dip while her other hand clawed and spidered her nails around the quaking surface.
Minutes passed before Patricia found it in her to allow Stephanie a chance to breathe freely. Stephanie gasped when Patricia finally pulled back. The devious tickler rose beside her. While Stephanie coughed and fought for air, Patricia positioned herself behind her. She admired Stephanie’s will and eagerness to hold on, despite her evident exhaustion. Patricia’s hand stroked her neck and cheek as she passed, looming behind her. She placed her hands on both of Stephanie’s bare arms, sliding downward.
“I’m not one to admit when I’m impressed, but you certainly show promise,” Patricia said. “I don’t know much about this place, how it’ll suit me, or you for that matter, but I do know this: you’ve managed to entertain me thus far.” Her hands slowly crept farther downward toward Stephanie’s shoulders. Stephanie, in her heaving recovery, could take little notice to what she was saying or doing. “Sister or no, I could definitely get used to playing with you. We’re going to get real close, you and me.” Before Stephanie could process Patricia’s words, ten devious claws pressed and scribbled into her armpits.
“Faaaaaaahhhhahahahahahahahhahaaa!!!” Stephanie’s voice returned in a scream of ticklish laughter. Her hands continued to feebly clench. Her arms fought and struggled to lower, to protect her highly sensitive pits. Patricia circled around the shirt to reach her bare pits. They were pleasantly humid, hairless and slick to the touch. Scratching and spidering her nails came with almost no effort on Patricia’s part. She pressed inward, digging and clawing as quickly as she could.
“Such a fun spot for tickles,” Patricia said. “You want to protect yourself so badly, but you just can’t. Oh well. More fun for me.” Patricia’s hands circled around slightly, but ultimately stayed in one place: the center of each armpit. She kept the tickles at a constant intensity. She looked down on Stephanie and watched as she squirmed and thrashed against her binds. Such slight movements left the girl screaming and crying with laughter. Her torso twisted. Her thighs pressed together harder. Her hips raised and bucked. Patricia remained in her spot, her nails feverishly tormenting Stephanie’s bare, smooth armpits. She stayed still in position to enforce the idea that, no matter how much she screams or how she moves, only one thing would stop her, something that Stephanie was still consciously not using.
“STAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAPPP!!! I CAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAN’T!!!” Stephanie screamed. Patricia kept her ticklish efforts focused where they were.
“That’s too bad,” Patricia said. “Because whether or not you think you can… you will.” Patricia’s nails spidered rapidly in the spots. Their tracks left small red marks where they scratched. Stephanie’s cheeks glowed burning red. Sweat and tears trickled down her neck. Patricia continued to scribble faster. Her nails danced across Stephanie’s slick pits with no regard to how it made her scream.
“STAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!!! PLEEEAAAHAHAHAHAHAASEEE!!” Stephanie wailed. More tears ran down her cheeks. Her arms became too tired from their own feeble attempts at protecting her to even move. She could only laugh through the tickles that surged through her, made worse by every swipe of Patricia’s nails. Patricia studied Stephanie’s expressions closely. Minutes of desperate screaming and laughing passed. As her laughter began to fade back into desperate gasps, Patricia pulled back.
Patricia wiped a layer of stay hairs, clinging to Stephanie’s skin, out of her face. Her forehead burned. Stephanie’s eyes rolled upward, her lids fluttering and fighting to stay open. The tickles had ceased, but her body trembled with residual stimulation. New sensations and sensitivities began to burn through the girl. Her mouth watered while her throat dried. Patricia left the girl to suck in deep, gasping grasps for air. She walked over to one of the supply cabinets. She looked through the collection of toys and tools with which the house had stocked their rooms. After a moment, she reached for one and pulled it out. She walked it back over to Stephanie, still recovering from the devastation done to her pits. Stephanie's lips began to shake.
“Pl…. ple….” Stephanie started. Patricia looked her way.
“Is that supposed to be begging?” Patricia asked. “It certainly isn’t the safeword. Did you forget it? Or do you want me to keep going?” She held up what she had picked out. A clean white hitachi vibrator, covered in a protective film. Patricia unsealed it and let the disposable covering fall to the floor. She switched it on to test out the device. It hummed loudly. Stephanie’s eyes widened at the sight of it. Patricia held it closer to her, down by her thighs. “Now then, you decided to open your mouth, so choose. Say the word or say nothing and I’ll keep making you my little tickle pet, just like you want.” Stephanie’s mouth stayed open to breathe. A sound started to come to her lips, but stopped. She made her choice by closing her mouth. Patricia smirked. “Good choice.”
Keeping the vibrator humming, Patricia let the quaking bulb tease up Stephanie’s bare thigh. Inching higher and higher up her skirt, she guided the wand around shivering, pale thighs. Stephanie whimpered before letting out another flurry of giggles. Slowly, teasingly, the rumbling wand lightly tickles all over Stephanie’s thighs. Patricia worked the wand high and higher up her skirt while tracing it inward and outward. Stephanie’s head fell back, her mouth opening wider.
“Mmmmmheeheeheehahhahaa…. Oooooohhhmmmmmmheheheheee!” Stephanie moaned. She closed her eyes and tried to bear through the teasing. Patricia continued to slowly push the vibe upward and inward.
“See? I’m not so mean, am I?” Patricia asked. Her other hand began to delicately skitter her nails across Stephanie’s smooth, quaking thigh. Stephanie’s lips cracked a smile. Small giggles began to push through her moans.
“Mmmmmheeheehee n-noohhh… ma’am,” Stephanie said. Patricia’s tickling nails fell further inward. They skittered across the soft, humid skin. They worked up while the vibe rumbled around her hip, closer to her butt. The higher her hand came, the hotter and more sensitive the area was. Her nails teased around the outside of Stephanie’s panties, leaving her giggling and twisting more than she was moaning.
“Such a dirty girl,” Patricia said. “Getting this wet from a little bit of tickling. What would mommy and daddy think?” Her hand began to knead and claw more at Stephanie’s inner thigh. Stephanie yelped and jerked once again, falling back into a flood of ticklish giggles.
“Naaaaeeeehhheeehahahahahaa!!! Nahahahahat thereeeheheheeeheee!!!” Stephanie squealed. Patricia clawed harder, switching from one thigh to the other. Stephanie’s giggles quickly became hearty laughs. Her hips bucked off the device, defeatedly having to come back down. Patricia kept the vibe teasing around her pelvis, getting ever closer inward.
“Mmmm, you love this, don’t you?” Patricia asked, her hand gnawing at the tender inner half of her thigh. “Of course you do… And yet, I’ve yet to hear much gratitude.” The wand slid further away once more. The tickles came faster and harder. Stephanie desperately clenched her thighs together only to trap Patricia’s hand in the spot where she tickled. Stephanie wailed. Her head flew back, pouring more and more strained laughter into the room.
“AAAAHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! THHHHAHAHAHAAANK YOU MAAHAHAHAHA’AM!!!” Stephanie shouted. Tears trickled down her cheeks. Her jaw and chest and stomach all ached. Her arms and legs grew weary of instinctively twitching and jerking in their binds. Yet, Stephanie continued to leak. Patricia’s nails delighted in the slickness. Her hand climbed closer and closer. Stephanie’s hips bucked. Her cheeks glowed like Christmas lights. Another ache had seeped its way downward, a delightful sensation. Patricia fed into it with a flurry of tickles and a vibe that explored upward and inward. Stephanie laughed and moaned through the rising pressure pressing against her. Short pleas began to seep into her hysterical singing. “AAAHAHAHHAHAHAHAH!!! PLEEHAHAHASSEEE!!! PLEASEEEHEEHEHAHAHAH!!!!”
Patricia slipped out. She pulled both her hand and the wand away. Stephanie laid back against the device. Her jaw hung open, her breaths needful and shivering. Her eyes were wide. Sweat dripped down the side of her face. Her hair had all but foregone the pigtails for a style of auburn tassel. Patricia stood watching her. Even without her glasses, she could feel her assessing her, appraising her, looking down at her like a teacher would a pupil. Patricia felt the moisture between her index finger and thumb. The vibe in her hand continued to rumble.
“Dirty girl,” she said. “Whatever am I going to do with you?” Patricia waited for a moment before setting the still humming wand in between Stephanie’s legs. She pressed the bulb in between her thighs, teasingly just below her pantyline. The vibes tickled and taunted. Stephanie gasped into another fit of giggles. The area had become incredibly sensitive. The wand stayed close enough to tickle but not close enough for the vibes to reach where Stephanie wanted them. The binds that held down her legs also kept her thighs tightly compressed, both vulnerable to the ticklish vibrations.
“Eeeeekkkheeheheemmmmmheeehahahahaooohhhh!” Stephanie giggled and moaned. Patricia stood back and watched. She came up to Stephanie’s head. She brushed another layer of sweaty hair out of her face.
“You love it, don’t you, pet?” Patricia asked.
“Yeeeeheheeheeehahahass!!” Stephanie cried. “Yeehhehehess mahahaha’am!! I laaahahahahahave it!!!” Patricia puffed another soft snicker.
“I know you do,” she said. Patricia glanced up at a clock on the wall as she came up to the supply chest once more. She grabbed two things from it and started back over to Stephanie, keeping them out of view. “So excited, aren’t you? I bet you want more.” She walked up to Stephanie’s feet, rubbing against one another. Her toes curled and soles glowed with a hot pink blush.
“Yeeeheheheheheeass!!” Yeeheheheheesss ma’aahahaham!!” Stepahnie giggled. A gasp cut through her laughter as a cooling chill of baby oil began spreading across her soles. Patricia held a bottle of the clear oil in one hand and rubbed it in with the other.
“Such a good little tickle pet,” Patricia said. She finished rubbing the oil against both of Stephanie’s soles and set the bottle down. Stephanie wiggled her toes and felt the slickness that had come over them. She squirmed anxiously in her seat, the vibrating tickles teasing her more and more. She stared up at Patricia, her face darkened with blush and distress. Her lips trembled against her laughter. Her eyes were soaked with tears. Her body burned with various aches. Patricia smiled back. “Scream for me.”
Without a hint of mercy or reservation, Patricia brought a hard, plastic-tipped hairbrush down against Stephanie's feet. She scrubbed viciously, scraping each of the bristles up and down across the tender, frail surface of the girl’s sole. Stephanie exploded with a piercing scream, one that came in waves as it caught up to the immense devastation that Patricia waged against her nerves.
“NAAAAAAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!!!! FAAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAAA!!!!” Stephanie launched up off the seat as far as her binds would allow. All cuffs and belts holding her down jerks tightly as one. Her eyes burst open. The screaming laughter that erupted from her mouth broke several times over. None of her anguished reactions deterred Patricia’s efforts. She held one foot steady as she scrubbed her sole as quickly as she could. The oil allowed the brush to scrub and scrape much faster than it would have with friction. Patricia worked the brush against one foot for several long, hellish seconds before switching to the other.
“You wanted this, remember?” Patricia asked, not expecting Stephanie to even hear her over her own laughter. She chuckled as she watched Stephanie endure a torrent of tickles pouring through her. Back and forth she switched from foot to foot, holding one and tormenting the other. Stephanie’s slick, glistening soles burned bright red. Paramount sensitivity plagued them, trapped in an onslaught of torturous tickles. Stephanie screamed and screamed until her laughter started to fade back into coughing gasps for air. Patricia started to slow down when Stephanie spoke up.
“AAAAAAAAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!!!!! CHERRYYYY!!! CHERRY!!!!” Stephanie said. Patricia stopped. She pulled the brush away and made her way up to Stephanie’s midsection where she pulled the vibrator out as well. She switched it off and laid it by the bottle of oil below. Stephanie could only lay and heave for air. Her eyes were closed. Her body was limp and weak. Sweat soaked all through her clothes. Her cheeks were still bright red. As Patricia came up to her head, she could make out the faintest smile on Stephanie’s face.
“You almost held out,” she said, glancing at the clock. Stephanie tilted her head.
“S… s… sor…ry… I…” Stephanie started. Patricia put her finger to Stephanie’s lips.
“Shut up,” she said. “You did well.” Patricia reached into her pocket. She pulled out the silver charm engraved with a paw print. She held it in her fingers, watching it shine in the red of the room. She came closer to Stephanie and stroked her hair. “You want a fresh start, huh? Then how about this?” She leaned in closer and whispered. “You’re my tickle pet now, understand?” Her airy voice left Stephanie trembling. The blacks of her eyes expanded wide. Her heart continued to pound. Her body burned brighter still. The ache below pulsed. Stephanie glanced up at Patricia, still bound to the device. She nodded slowly.
“Y… y-yes… m-ma’am…” Stephanie said.
“Good girl.” Patricia stroked her cheek once more. She stood, towering over Stephanie’s heaving body. She dropped the charm onto Stephanie’s lap. “Your tag. Wear it at all times, pet. Do not let me catch you without it.” With that, Patricia adjusted her suit jacket and turned to leave. She approached the door to the room and opened it. She walked out just as Lyra was approaching in the hallway. The Mistress carried with her two file folders with several pages in each.
“O-oh, um, Patricia, we need to do the evaluation,” she called out. “Please don’t go far.” Patricia turned her head and continued to walk.
“She’ll do,” Patricia said before vanishing around the corner. Lyra watched her walk away before turning to Stephanie in the room. She was still bound to the Y-Frame and nearly dripping with sweat. Lyra walked in quickly and began tending to the bound girl.
“Oh, wow, well… normally have all girls involved clean up,” said Lyra, setting down the folders. “Or at the very least assist with aftercare. I’ll have to talk to her about this. I’m sorry, Stephanie.” Stephanie tiredly shook her head. Her breathing had slowed, but the exhaustion left her unable to move or say much at all. Lyra noticed. She started unlatching Stephanie from the device. Steadily, she freed her ankles, legs, and arms. She rubbed each spot tenderly. Lyra helped Stephanie sit up and rushed to grab her a glass of water and a damp cloth. Stephanie wearily, yet needfully, chugged down the entire glass. She exhaled a long, loud sigh after she finished. Lyra knelt down in front of her, dabbing her body with the cloth.
“It really looks like she put you through hell,” Lyra continued. “I guess we should still assess then.” Lyra put down the cloth and took the glass. She grabbed one folder, opening it to read one of the pages. “Okay, Stephanie, how would you rate your overall experience with this exercise?” Stephanie held her head in one hand. The other fiddled with the paw print charm that Patricia had left for her. Her head swam. So many thoughts and emotions raced through her. As her heart continued to pound, she stared down at the charm and relaxed into a smile.
“I… loved it.”
