Tickled Pink

"But, but...what are you going to do?" I cried. "I'm not having much fun with this."

"Oh, but just wait and see," he drooled. "It will be a new experience for you."

Well, he was right about that. But first, I watched open mouthed as he came back with a pair of scissors and proceeded to cut my uniform in shreds, leaving me in just my undergarments.

"You need a new maid's uniform anyway" he growled. "I've got you one that is much more sexy and revealing. I can't wait for you to try it on."

He reached behind me to unhook my bra and in no time at all my big breasts had spilled free.

I closed my eyes. This was going to be a long afternoon at the office.

Then he tugged down my little panties and I felt my resolve melt away.

"There" he growled. "That's much much better. You have such a beautiful body, my dear. I so enjoy feasting my eyes upon it."

I tried one last protest.

"Colonel...please I'm a married woman. Have some pity on me... If you don't stop I'll pack this job in, I will...I must."

"Look, calm down," he said soothingly. "Its just a little game we are going to play...then we'll relax and have a nice little drink downstairs."

His reassuring approach would have worked much better, if he hadn't then proceeded to tie up my legs, right over and behind me, to the corner posts of the bed, next to my hands. When he finished, my legs were straight back and well apart. Also, my bum was up off the bed and fully exposed along with my vagina. He had me in a widespread V position.

Now, I was showing everything I had to my employer, and, blushing red with shame, as he gazed down on me with a look of pure lust on his face. As I lay there in my trussed up position, I shuddered to think of what my husband or Sylvia would think if they happened to walk in on me at that precise moment.

"Colonel," I spluttered, desperately, "you have no right to tie me up like this, whatever can you have in mind?"

It was a stupid question really knowing my pussy was wet, wide open and begging to be touched.

But the Colonel just smiled and left the room for a moment. When he returned he was carrying a small worn case.

"These are the tools of my trade, Christine, which served me very well when I worked in Burma. They have never let me down. I used them when I interrogated female prisoners. Half an hour in my expert hands and they couldn't wait to tell me everything they knew."

He then took out what looked like a feather implement of some kind and guessed I was in for a bit of a tickling.

"These particular feathers were given to me by a village medicine man in a remote mountain province. It cost me the price of a goat and five chickens, but it was the best purchase I have ever made. I particularly remember using them on a beautiful French spy who had somehow resisted three days of torture and drugs. In less than an hour at my hands, she was grovelling in surrender and begging to be allowed to tell all. I must say that my employers were delighted with the confession she eventually made, after I'd fucked her several times... at her insistence I might add. Apparently, my constant tickling of her clitoris had made her quite desperate for sex."

I groaned at this information, knowing I was in for a similar fate. "Colonel...no" I protested feebly"

"Well, let's see how you react to this kind of torture, Christine. I've wanted to use this tickling stick on you for some time now."

And with that, he delicately brushed the feathered stick over my exposed private parts. The tickling effect was excruciating. I nearly died there and then. Oh yes, there was pleasure, Oh God, was there not. But, it was too much for any living sole to endure. As he kept on with his devastating work, my eyes widened in disbelief at the effect it was having on my body. There was only one thought in my brain as the seconds ticked by. It had to stop soon...it just had to. Nothing escaped the delicate, excruciating, touch of those feathers on my bum, pussy and the inside of my thighs. Then, just when I thought I had reached the very limit of my endurance, he started on the soles of my feet...

Well I wasn't a French spy, but, like her, I told him everything he wanted to know, every little intimate secret and private thought. He kept me trussed up, until every confession was laid bare. I blushed and bit my lip at what I was telling him, but there was nothing I could hold back...not if I wanted him to stop. And I was desperate for him to stop...

I suppose he got to know quite a lot about me that afternoon, my full and complete sexual history, my sex life with my husband (not much to tell there) and my entire list of secret fantasises and secrets, everything and anything, even about things half forgotten. My God, he even prised out of me the shameful details of my visits to the sex shop in the town.

It was only then that he showed me the small video recorder that he had concealed from my view. Everything, I had said was now on tape, including visual evidence of the session. As he played it back to me, later, my eyes opened wide at the implications of what he now had on me. I gulped, thinking about how astonished my sister, husband and anyone else would be, seeing me tied up and interfered with like that. Slowly, I came to the conclusion that he now owned me body and soul. I was now a helpless sex toy under his control.

So, after he fucked me and enjoyed my body for the rest of the afternoon, he made me promise to do things for him and let him do certain things to me. I had to promise on my word of honour. In fact, the cunning bastard had already written them all down for me to sign like a bloody contact. There was ever such a long list and I blushed to the core at what was involved. They were things that a 31 year old married lady with 2 children shouldn't promise to anyone, not even her husband.

God knows, it will take me a long time to honour those promises and I have to start next Monday. If I don't he will show the documents and tape to people who matter in my life and subject me to another session with the dreaded tickling stick. And that of course is just unthinkable.

It's all very humiliating for a well brought up, respectable, middle class, married woman like me. But, I know that I must do as he says.

Then later, he showed me my new uniform. It comprised of white stay up stockings with little bows at the top, together with a saucy hat and very high heels. And that was all there was. Not even a pair of panties to hide my recently shaved pussy. Dear God, I am to parade around Middle Grange Hall, evermore, like a French whore.

Under new rules, if I now leave a speck of dust anywhere in the house, he has the right to spank me. So far, he has exercised that right remorselessly and without a shred of mercy for my poor little bum.

Also, I am now resigned to the fact that the Colonel will be fucking me just about every day from now on. It says so in my new contact, which I dare not disobey.

And every month, to my intense shame, I have to visit the sex shop in the town and allow that disgusting little man to paw me all over. That's what you get for confessing your fantasies...

THE END