Tissues Ticklish Mom Goes ShoppingChapter 5
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Ms. Connor moved quickly down the stairs, which descended adjacent to the wall on the right. The original cinder block basement walls weren’t even painted, adding to the coldness I felt as I was ushered down the stairs by Ms. Tonya. I wasn’t physically cold. In fact, the air in the room didn’t contain the dampness or musty odor one might find in a basement. The coldness was more the unfriendly type.
I went down those stairs fully aware that my descent was more than a physical descent down to a basement. It was a descent of my character. A descent of my morality. A descent to a new, lower form of life for me. A descent to debauchery. A humiliating descent to servitude. A descent to the realization that I had betters – betters that deserved my obedience.
It was also a descent to abject horniness. I had massive climaxes over the last two days, more orgasms than I’ve had over the last few years. More intense orgasms than I’ve ever had. But they didn’t satisfy me. I needed more. Servitude and humiliation were my way to more massive climaxes – with permission, of course.
My mind clicked at that thought. Were the orgasms better with permission or better without it? Thinking back, I came hardest when being naughty. The most intense orgasms came when I didn’t have permission. The one outside the mall was the hardest I’d ever cum – by far. It was so humiliating not to be able to control myself. That must be it. Or was it knowing that I’d be punished for being naughty by Ms. Connor.
All those thoughts rushed through my mind before I’d gone far enough down the stairs to see what waited for me in the basement. When I descended to where my shoulders were even with the trap door, I stooped down to look into the room. What I saw put one thought in my mind. RUN!
I turned to head back up the stairs but only made it up one step before Ms. Tonya grabbed my wrists.
“You’re not going anywhere,” she said as she tried to turn me back around.
“No, no, no, no ... Please! No! Oh God, NO!” I shouted trying to free myself from Tonya’s grip. She was strong and held me tight. She was right. I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Get down the fucking stairs ... NOW!” I heard Ms. Connor shout from below.
I stopped struggling but didn’t stop pleading. “Please Ms. Tonya,” I said softly. “Please let me go. I’ll be good. I’ll do anything.”
“NOW!” Ms. Connor repeated.
“Anything,” I repeated. “Tissues ... My daughter ... You know ... I’ll bring her here instead ... Pleeeeeease let me go.” I started sobbing.
There it was. Without going down another step I gave up my daughter – my only child. I thought a moment about what just came out of my mouth. I couldn’t have been more ashamed of myself. But I didn’t take it back.
“Pleeeeeese...” was all I could say.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Ms. Connor said. She obviously heard me betray my daughter. “Tissues will be here soon enough.”
I knew I was trapped. I was naked. I didn’t have my bag or my car keys. I tried to trade the most valuable thing in my life - my daughter, but she wasn’t mine to trade. I certainly had no chance of overpowering the athletic Ms. Tonya. I stopped struggling and Ms. Tonya released her grip on my wrists. Defeated, I turned, sat down on the stairs and started crying.
Ms. Connor came up a few steps. She extended her hand to me, “Come,” she said calmly, “be a good girl.”
I took Ms. Connor’s offered hand, stood and allowed her to slowly start to lead me down the stairs. What choice did I have other than to trust her? I convinced myself in those few seconds that even if I managed to escape today, eventually, I’d be back.
As I descended the steps, the sight that caused my attempted escape came back into view. What I saw was the lower portion of the block wall. A rack had been secured there. Hanging on the rack were an assortment of paddles, floggers, whips and other punishment implements.
I stopped on the stairs and whimpered, “Please, Ms. Connor ... I’m ... I can’t...” But I couldn’t complete a thought.
“Don’t worry, Suzy,” She tried to comfort me by putting her arm around my waist. “All this isn’t for you.” Her words did comfort me and I took another step down when she added, “Not today, anyway.”
I dropped my eyes to my bare feet as they went down the stairs. I wasn’t ready to see any more. My mind raced with thoughts about my daughter as I took the last few steps to the cement basement floor. Would I really have sent Tissues to this fate to save myself? Would I have preferred the implements I saw to be used on her? She had no problem having me punished last night. If she were here now, would she have me punished to save herself? Would she participate in my punishment?
Ms. Connor led me toward the center of the room, and I allowed myself to look up at my surroundings. The room was about 20 feet square. The ceiling was open; nothing covered the joists and floorboards overhead. There was a rack in the shape of an X in one corner. In another corner, there was a gynecologist’s table, complete with stirrups and straps to hold the patient in place. Shackles hung from the ceiling in various places. There were racks on the walls adorned with all forms of punishment implements, many of which I could not determine their use. Other racks held sex toys of every shape and size. There was also a whole rack of implements that looked very ticklish – feathers and such.
I got very lightheaded all of a sudden and nearly fell over. Ms. Connor held me up by the elbow. I felt Ms. Tonya gently pull my right wrist over my head. I didn’t resist as she secured it to the padded shackle that hung there from the ceiling. I was now trapped. I was completely in Ms. Connor’s control. There were no decisions for me to make now. I couldn’t escape. If I screamed, no one would hear me – at least no one who could help me. That realization relaxed me. All I had to do now was take the punishment Ms. Connor decided that I deserved. Nothing more. It was easy for me now – emotionally easy anyway.
My left hand was gently pulled up and shackled over my head. Ms. Tonya grabbed a controller that was hanging nearby. She pushed a button and the shackles were drawn upward toward the ceiling until I was pulled upright on the balls of my feet – my heels about two inches off the floor. Stretched out completely.
“Don’t panic, Suzy,” Ms. Connor said, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “You’re going to get what you deserve. Nothing more, nothing less.”
I orgasmed without permission. One of those was clearly my fault. I masturbated outside the mall entrance when I tossed my dress in the trash. I came harder than I ever did in my life. I deserved to be punished for that. The other wasn’t my fault, was it? Ms. Connor was abusing my asshole with a vibrator while the goth girls were stimulating my nipples and clit. I couldn’t be blamed for that one. Could I? I couldn’t keep myself from cummng, could I? What did it matter? Ms. Connor ordered me not to cum, but I came anyway.
I came twice today without permission. It’s my fault. I’m a naughty humiliation slut. Now I would be punished for it.
“Please...” I whimpered, not entirely sure what I was pleading for. Was I pleading for mercy or to be punished properly?
Ms. Connor shot a look at Ms. Tonya. “What are YOU waiting for?” She asked.
Ms. Tonya snapped to attention momentarily before kicking off her heels. She unhooked her corset, releasing her perfect C-cup tits. Her black nipples were swollen long and thick. They shook obscenely as she wiggled out of her tight yoga pants revealing her lacy thong. The tiny pink panties stood out sharply against her dark skin. She stepped back into her heels and stood ready for her next orders.
I recalled Ms. Connor’s instructions to the girls last night. She insisted that they be topless in her presence.
“Start tickling her,” she ordered as she headed back up the stairs. “I’ll be right back.”
“Yes, Ms. Connor.” Ms. Tanya said and walked around behind me. A second later I felt her fingernails at the front of my hips. She let them linger while I squirmed a bit. I couldn’t move much. After a moment she slowly raked her nails up along my belly.
She was barely touching me with the tips of her nails. My belly quivered, and I begged, “Nooo hooo hooo hooo ... Please ... No more tickling!”
Once she reached the top of my belly, her nails moved to my sides and over my ribs. The slowness of her motion was maddening.
I started chuckling, “Hee hee hee...”
When her nails reached my armpits I erupted, “Haaa haaa haaa!”
Once she reached the tops of my pits, she attacked them in earnest, wiggling her nails over the most sensitive areas of my pits.
I was laughing uncontrollably at that point. Tickling is an amazing thing. Punishment was supposed to hurt, right? But this wasn’t hurting. It was making me laugh. Laughing is supposed to be a good thing. But now it was punishing. It was also humiliating to be stripped naked in front of my daughter’s teen girlfriend. I was at her mercy and she made me a squirming mess in a matter of seconds. I was certainly learning about the punishing nature of humiliation.
She raked her nails all over my body but avoided my tits and pussy. She even grabbed an ankle here and there to rake her nails over the sole of my foot and tickle under my toes.
After a couple of minutes, Ms. Tonya paused as we heard the sound of heels on the wooden stairs. I was breathing heavily as Ms. Connor came into view.
Ms. Connor’s black leather high-heel boots came into view first. Shiny chrome buckles ran up the sides of the boots, which finally ended above her knees. A couple of inches of bare thigh flesh ended where her black leather skirt started. A studded black leather bra completed her ensemble.
She pulled the trap door closed as she came down the steps. “I feel much better now,” she said as she ran her hands over her body and through her hair.
Ms. Connor looked amazing in her dominatrix outfit. Ms. Tonya was adorable in her lacy pink thong. I was a naked sweaty mess.
Ms. Connor walked over to the tickling implements. I noticed that her skirt was slit up both sides almost to her waist. Flashing a lot of thigh, she grabbed two paint brushes and walked around to face me.
“Ms. Connor ... P ... Please ... You’re so beautiful! P ... Please don’t tickle me ... I ... I ... I’ve had enough.” I stammered between deep breaths.
“You know, you deserve to be tickled,” she said like a mother talking down to her child. “Don’t you agree?”
I looked back and forth between Ms. Connor and Tonya. I looked them up and down as I huffed and puffed my reply.
“I ... I ... Can’t ... Please ... I ... I just ... Y ... Y ... Yes ... I do ... I deserve to be tickled...” I admitted. “But ... Huuut ... Huuut ... Haaa haaa haaa...” Ms. Connor didn’t let me continue and applied the paint brushes to my belly.
Ms. Tonya attacked my pits from behind again with a pair of pointy feathers.
“Haaa haaa haaa ... Heee heee heee...” I was a laughing sweaty mess in a matter of seconds. They continued for what seemed like hours, taking turns going over to the rack to pick out things to tickle me with. Ms. Connor had Ms. Tonya use a bar to spread my legs wide. She had to lower my wrists a bit so I could still support myself on my toes.
Ms. Connor instructed Tonya to tickle any place she wanted, but not my pussy. “I don’t want to make her cum yet,” she said. I hung on the word yet. Hoping that eventually she’s let me cum. Hoping she’d tickle my swollen clit until I exploded.
All manor if ticklish implements were used to torture and humiliate me. Feathers – including a feather duster, Q-tips, electric toothbrush, raccoon tail, and more were all used on my ticklish body. They ticked every inch of my body, except the place I needed tickled most. I laughed hysterically and was given very few breaks to catch my breath.
Ms. Tonya put what looked like a padded sawhorse behind me. She attached the spreader bar to another cable hanging from the ceiling. She and Ms. Connor worked the winches and moved the sawhorse into place under the small of my back. They pulled my legs up and back, totally exposing me to the tickling tools of their choice. Ms. Tonya even did raspberries on my belly and butt cheeks, making me howl.
They attacked my feet and toes. One held my toes wide apart while the other tickled between them. Or they pulled my toes back to tickle underneath them. When they were satisfied that they’d thoroughly tickled almost every inch of my body, Ms. Connor and Ms. Tonya stopped tickling. But not for long.
“Spread her asshole,” Ms. Connor ordered. Ms. Tonya came to my side, grabbed my cheeks and spread them for her coach. Three times she ordered for me to be spread wider. Ms. Tonya inched her fingers in close to my asshole and spread it wide.
Ms. Connor took a pointy feather and made circles around my asshole, slowly getting closer to the center, most sensitive folds of ticklish asshole flesh.
“Haaa haaa haaa...” I laughed. But as she got closer to the center of my asshole, my laughing turned to moaning.
She wiggled the tip of the feather directly on the center of my asshole. The stimulation was starting to bring my body toward orgasm, but it wasn’t enough to bring me over the edge. I knew I wasn’t allowed to cum, but I didn’t care. I needed it. I tried to wiggle my butt to get more friction on my asshole.
“Please...” I begged. “Please ... I need to cum ... May I please cum?”
Abruptly, the tickling stopped. “I think she’s had enough for now,” Ms. Connor said.
“No. Please don’t stop,” I continued begging. “I need to cum.”
“Not yet,” Ms. Connor said, leaving me frustrated but with hope that I may be allowed release soon.
She and Tonya stowed their tickle torture tools and worked the winches so that I was sitting on the sawhorse somewhat comfortably. It took a while for me to finally calm down and catch my breath from the long torture I’d endured. They still didn’t tickle my pussy. Didn’t let me cum.
Ms. Connor strapped a leather collar around my neck and attached a leash to it. Ms. Tonya went about removing the shackles and before long, I was free of them. Only the collar remained. Ms. Connor held the leash. No thoughts of escape crossed my mind. I would behave myself. Be a good girl. Do what I could to please Ms. Connor so she’d let me cum.
Ms. Connor led me around on the leash a bit. She grabbed a riding crop from the wall and used it to direct me, slapping my ass and thighs as she marched me around. I felt like I was being leash trained, like a dog. We finally ended up at the gynecologist’s table.
Like most women, I wasn’t a fan of this medical device. This one was more imposing than any I’ve seen in the past, due to the straps it had to hold its “patient” in place. Looking at the nearby wall, I noticed a variety of doctor’s implements. Ms. Connor was no doctor, so I imagined that the implements would be used to punish and humiliate.
“Have a seat,” she ordered.
Shaking with fear and anticipation, I did what I was told. She had me lay back and slip my hands into the straps that were on the sides of the table. Ms. Tonya tightened the straps on my wrists.
“Put your legs in the stirrups,” was her next order.
Again, I did what I was told and again, Ms. Tonya assisted. In short order, my legs were secured to the stirrups. They were pulled wide apart and back. They helped me skootch forward, so my butt was off the edge of the table. I was completely exposed, again. My pussy was wide open, and I could see that my clit was poking well out of its hood.
Once satisfied with my positioning on the table, Ms. Connor went to the rack and came back with two leather floggers. Handing one to Ms. Tonya, she said, “no exam for you today, Suzy. Maybe next time.”
SMACK!! Ms. Connor slapped my pussy with the flogger. The leather straps striking my lips and clit. I screamed. This flogger was more severe than the others that had been used on me before.
SMACK!! SMACK!! Ms. Tonya started flogging my tits.
SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!! SMACK!!
They laid into the most sensitive parts of my body. As they did, Ms. Connor kept reminding me that I was being punished for cumming with out permission. I lost count of the number of slaps I received. Ms. Connor smacked my pussy, ass and thighs while Ms. Tonya smacked my tits and belly. I felt like I was being torn up. But, looking down when they stopped, my skin was beet red, but no welts had been raised.
I was getting what I deserved. It was my tits and pussy that were naughty; cumming without permission. It was only right that those were the parts being punished.
I thought the punishment was over when they stopped the flogging. But I was wrong. Ms. Connor put clamps on my nipples.
“Owww ... Owww...” I screamed. The clamps hurt but sent lightning bolts from my nipples down to my clit at the same time.
“Ahhh ... ahhh ... oooo...” I moaned as I got used to the clamps a bit.
I watched as Ms. Connor picked up a plastic ruler. She flexed it in her hands as she walked between my legs. She took aim, bent the ruler back and let go. It whipped forward and struck me right on the clit.
WHACK!!
“Ouch! Ahhh...” It hurt a little, much less than I expected, though.
It apparently hurt less than Ms. Connor expected, as well. She bent the ruler back further this time and released.
WHACK!!
“Ow ... Ow ... Ow...” That one hurt more.
Still not satisfied she pulled the ruler back even further. WHACK!!
I screamed as my clit really felt that one. Ms. Connor punished my clit a few more times. It hurt like hell, but I felt myself again rising toward orgasm.
Gert
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