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TICKLE.TXT by Cindy V. femdom, TV, humiliation
It had been a long boring day taking an in-house class on a new computer
application. The only high point of the day was that the class had three
of my company's prettiest women in it. But I was glad the class was over;
in fact it was a little past quitting time when I returned to my desk to
check the mail. And there, out of the blue, sitting in my chair, was my
online mistress!
"Mistress! What are you doing here?" And since she only had my computer
screen name and a post office box, the thought just hit me: "And how did you
find me?"
"Now Cindy," Mistress replied in a patronizing tone, referring to me in
my femme name, "Don't worry your pretty little head about that. I do know a
little more about computers than you give me credit for. Believe me, it just
wasn't that difficult."
I thought frantically how she might have done this. She and I have
exchanged files over the years, but always through the online service, never
modem to modem. Somehow she had successfully invaded my computer system.
"Cindy, it really doesn't matter how I found you. I'm here, and you will
amuse me. Let's go," said Mistress so definitively that there was never a
question in my mind about obeying.
She took me firmly by the arm and walked me through my own company. For-
tunately the place was empty. We got to the Ladies Room and she opened the door.
And she directed me in.
"Take off your clothes, Cindy. All of them."
She said this so matter of factly. There was no need to threaten me with
bodily harm or blackmail, or anything else. Mistress knows she holds the
ultimate trump card with me. She could simply stop responding to my online
notes and never talk to me again. That would be the ultimate punishment for
disobeying her. She is a wonderful mistress. She knows me, my fantasies,
my desires. And they are compatible with hers. There will never be another
like her, at least not to me. And so I obey, without question.
A Ladies Room is not the same as a Men's Room. A Ladies Room has a couch.
We could speculate why, but why bother? Mistress motioned me to lie down on
my back on the couch, and she quickly spread my arms and legs and tied all four
limbs to the corners with velcro. I was absolutely helpless.
Mistress left me alone and went into one of the private stalls. I was
contemplating my position, wondering what in the world she was up to, when
the bathroom door opened. In walked the three women from my class! Darn!
Although it was after quitting time, obviously they had not made their last
bathroom trip for the night.
"What have we here?" asked Nancy. Nancy is an executive secretary.
Long wavy blonde hair. One of the prettiest women in the company, with just the
right amount of eye makeup, blush and lipstick without being over made-up.
She knows she is cute, and sometimes she flaunts it. Years ago, when she was in
a flirty mood, I remember when she teased some poor guy who worked here when she
asked him. "Do you think my breasts look perky today?" He almost popped right
then.
Nancy looked at my naked, helpless form. She started to giggle. So did
her three friends. Diane took the initiative. Diane is a clerk. She has dark,
stringy hair, expressive brown eyes that she emphasizes with mascara, full lips
that she shows off with lip gloss, and a great little body. Diane in fact is
in great shape because she takes boxing lessons. Anyway, Diane lifted my face
up slightly, looked deeply into my eyes, and asked me, "How did you get into
this position?"
I struggled for a reply. What could I say? My fantasies with Mistress
were supposed to be quite private and separate from my work life.
Then Mistress appeared. She had used the stall to change out of her
clothes. She was now wearing a sexy black chemise. Low cut, revealing the
tops of her breasts. And short, showing plenty of her gorgeous legs. Mistress
always looks great!
"Cindy," Mistress said to me quietly but firmly. "Answer her question."
"Cindy????" said my three female co-workers, almost in unison. "You call
him Cindy?" Karen asked. "And who are you?" she asked to Mistress.
Karen, another clerk, is the most underrated beauty in the company.
Shoulder length blonde hair. Generally no makeup at all that I can see, except
for a light rose lipstick. She dresses smartly without being flashy. Her
skirts are always a tasteful length, but because she is on the tall side they
seem to ride up delightfully when she sits, showing plenty of her lovely
thighs. I had sat next to her all day in class, stealing a gaze at her thighs
whenever I could.
Mistress replied to three women. "Your friend here," pointing to me,
"calls herself Cindy. Because she likes to dress as a girl." And then looking
me straight in the eye, Mistress said, "Now Cindy - answer her question - how
DID you get in this position?"
There was no point in denying it any more. My cheeks burned in embar-
rassment as I admitted the truth to the women. "This is my Mistress. She
ordered me in here. She told me to remove my clothes, and then she tied me."
Diane asked Mistress, "And what are you going to do with him? I mean, her."
Mistress turned the question back to the three women. "I haven't decided
yet. What do you think I should do?"
Nancy, who had been bored for most of the class and had been making faces
at me to relieve her boredom, had an idea. "You know, little Cindy here
really was a pain in the butt all day. We were there to try and learn how to
work this new system. Cindy was showing off and asking all those theoretical
questions. I think we deserve a little fun with her too."
My generous Mistress was all too generous - with me. "By all means."
Nancy absent-mindedly started rubbing my nipple between her two fingers
as she thought about what to do with me. Her long perfectly manicured nails
toyed with me. I moaned softly. Suddenly her touch felt ticklish and I
started to laugh.
"Oh, Cindy," Nancy batted her eyelashes at me. "Are you ticklish?"
And with that, Nancy started tickling me. Then Diane. Then Karen.
Mistress watched from a slight distance, with an amused look in her eye. The
three girls' hands were all over me. Under my chin. My armpits. My belly.
The insides of my thighs. The bottoms of my feet. I was tied by my four
limbs and could only buck up and down. I was hysterical with laughter. Tears
were rolling down my face. It was so erotic being helpless and being tickled
by these three beautiful women. Finally, when I thought I couldn't take
any more, Mistress told them to stop and let me catch my breath.
Diane took pity on me, opened her purse, and took out a tissue to wipe
the tears from my face. I gazed into her beautiful eyes. Her eyebrows are
slightly arched, and definitely combed somehow because all the hairs were
facing the same direction - up. She has positively the longest, thickest
natural eyelashes I have ever seen. It was impossible not to admire those
beautiful eyelashes.
Mistress asked Diane innocently, "I see Cindy admiring your eyelashes.
They are pretty. How do you get them so long?"
Diane reached into her purse and pulled out a Lancome mascara. "This is
by far the best mascara. And you'd be surprised how quickly it lengthens
and thickens your lashes."
"Really?" asked Mistress so innocently. "Hmmmm."
There was the longest pause in the conversation. I know Mistress as
well as she knows me. But she was waiting for one of the three women to
pick up on this. Mistress thought that would be more fun for all of us.
Nancy, who probably likes me the least of the three of the women,
caught the drift of this. "Gee, Diane, do you think you could try some out
on Cindy?"
Diane smiled at this suggestion, as did Karen and Mistress. "Well, I
don't usually like to share mascara. But I think I might make an exception."
And with that Diane leaned very close to me, tilted my head up, told me to
look up at the ceiling, and started slowly coating my eyelashes with her
mascara. I could feel the weight of the liquid on my eyelashes - this was
an unnatural feeling, and in fact something Mistress had never done with me
in the past. The other women teased me as Diane worked on me. "Oh, Cindy
you have such pretty eyelashes."
While this was happening, Nancy looked at her own fingernails. "Boring,"
she reported. "Isn't there something for me to do?" She looked at her nails
again. She looked at my feet. "Hmmm. I wonder how little Cindy would look
with a little toenail polish?"
And with that she was into her purse. Nancy produced a bottle of red
nail polish and some cotton balls, and he started at my feet, painting my
toenails. I felt so helpless as they worked on opposite ends of me.
Karen, not to be outdone, opened up her purse. "Maybe a little blush
wouldn't hurt. She took out her blusher compact, waited for Diane to make
a little room for her near my face, and started merrily stroking on the
pink powder with her soft brush on my cheeks.
When all three of them were done, they stepped back to observe their
work. Of course, I couldn't see a thing, including my toes. But Mistress
was very pleased. "What a lovely job! Cindy looks so pretty," she exclaimed
with just a hint of teasing sarcasm in her voice.
They waited for the mascara and the nail polish to dry. When they were
sure everything was dried, Karen asked, "Shall we tickle pretty Cindy some
more?"
Karen still had her blusher brush in her hand. She started running it over
my nipples. It made the most delightful tickling sensation, and I squirmed.
She dipped it in the pink powder and gently worked on both my nipples. "Ooh,
look how cute and pink they're getting," she squealed.
Nancy and Diane decided to resume tickling me with their fingers and
nails. I think I must have been more sensitive this time than before, and
I was quickly howling with laughter. They were relentless, tickling my
helpless tied body with no mercy for my pleas for them to stop. I was
hysterical with laughter. Tears again rolled from my face. Diane explained
that her mascara was waterproof and would not run - a small comfort for me.
They stroked my thighs, getting so close to my cock, but refusing to
touch it. I bucked furiously, trying to get some relief, but none was
forthcoming. Finally they took pity on me and stopped.
They let me calm down for awhile. Then Mistress got onto the couch
and sat on my chest. She wiggled around on me, looking for a comfortable
posistion, laid down on me, wiggled some more. At one point her breasts
were inches from my face, but she would not let me touch them with my lips.
She continued moving around on top of me, with her silky chemise sensuously
rubbing all up and down my body. This was extremely sensuous, but was not
going to get me off. Mistress had other ideas, however, and rubbed herself
up and down all over me, until she moaned in an orgasm. Then she got off
of me and the couch.
While all this was happening the three women looked on with some
interest, but also some boredom. Nancy reached into her purse to apply
her red lipstick. Then with an evil grin she reached for my face and started
stroking it on me. Her tongue sneaked out the tiniest bit as she seriously
went about applying the lipstick to my lips in short, firm strokes.
She stepped back to admire her work. The women all teased me about how
cute I looked with long mascaraed eyelashes, blush on my cheeks and nipples,
and lipstick.
Karen then reached into her purse. "Hmm, I wonder how she'd look in my
shade?" She pulled out a tissue, wiped Nancy's shade off of me, and applied
her shade instead. This is more of a rose than a red, she explained, as she
carefully worked on my lips. She was just about to screw the tube back down
and put it away, when she decided on one more touch. She boldly applied
her lipstick to my nipples. "Ummm, don't they look so rosy and delicious?"
she asked with a smile. I felt so ridiculous.
Everyone considered this shade on my lips and nipples for a few moments.
Then Diane decided it was her turn. She reached into her purse and pulled
out her lipstick. She unscrewed it, and it was a dark, red-brown. She
waved it dangerously close to me and asked, "Cindy, you ARE going to let me
do you too, aren't you?" She really didn't expect an answer, but wiped off
Karen's shade with a tissue and boldly applied her lipstick to my mouth.
Her long lashes were hypnotic as she slowly stroked the color on me.
Then, as a final humiliating touch, she grabbed my erect penis and
started painting the tip in lipstick too. When it was full of the red color
to her satisfaction, she then reached down, and used my penis to apply the
color to her own lips. My body had become reduced to a mere lipstick to
the women. I found this so humiliating, but erotic beyond belief too.
When Diane was finished freshening her lipstick, she gave my penis a
few quick strokes with her hand. That's all it took. The events of the
afternoon had me so overwhelmed, that I came instantly.