|02-22-2003, 08:23 PM||#1|
Join Date: Dec 2002
"Begging For Mercy"
Begging For Mercy
(A ticklish celebrity fiction request)
“I’m going to tickle you so slowly and so skillfully...you’ll be begging for mercy!”
That one sobering threat was what echoed over and over again in Christina Aguilera’s mind like a broken record. It had been about six hours now since the Latin-American hottie was suddenly taken away from her lavish world of glitz and glamour and brought into this unbelievable nightmare of being kidnapped and held captive at the mercy of a deranged fan.
“I won’t give in. I will not give in.” She quietly chanted to herself as she sat in a room tied to a chair, gagged, and for the moment - all alone.
Luckily for her anonymous abductor, Christina Aguilera just happened to be an EXTREMELY TICKLISH girl. But she made a pact with herself that she would not give this tickle-fetishist captor the satisfaction of seeing her react to his tickling. No matter how ticklish the spot, no matter how prolong the torment, no matter how adroit the execution, Christina was determined to resist the inevitable tickle torture of this Ray Ban-clad man who she only knew as Wayne.
Being the popular sex symbol that she was, Christina Aguilera learned to accept the idea of strange undesirable men (and some of them even desirable, believe it or not) fantasizing about her and doing God knows what in their bed while holding up a poster of her in an irresistibly sexy pose. She knew she was seen as the quintessential sex object and there would be those maniacs out there that would do anything to get near her and try to have their way with her.
But this guy actually did get near Christina Aguilera. And this guy actually did try to have his way with her.
Christina remembered the frightening circumstances that brought her to this crucial moment in her life.
It was a Tuesday morning and Christina Aguilera was leaving her house to go to the recording studio. A young-looking man about 5’ 11” tall, medium build, and wearing sunglasses greeted her as she headed towards the limousine. She half-smiled and half-frowned as she did not recognize him as her regular driver.
“Hey! Where’s Earl?” Christina asked, nonchalantly.
“Earl couldn’t make it today, Miss Aguilera. He had an urgent matter to take care of. My name’s Wayne.”
“Oh. Hello, Wayne.”
The credulous Pop Star didn’t give much thought to the inconsistency of her routine¾seeing this new face at the car and all - she simply smiled back at the expressionless gentleman who stood at the long passenger door of the white limo and got in. The two were off to the studio.
Christina sat back in the plush seat and looked out the window, admiring the gorgeous day outside. She noticed how beautifully nature embellished the trees in their autumn colors. There were young girls walking along the street dressed in attire similar to her own; it gave her a warm feeling inside knowing that all her hard work at making a name for herself and sharing herself with the world was much appreciated.
Suddenly, her peaceful ride turned into bizarre peril as Christina Aguilera noticed a hissing sound. She frowned curiously and looked around and saw a thick gray gas coming up from behind the limousine’s wet bar. She gasped in shock and began to panic as the dense cloud quickly seeped into her section of the limo.
“Hey! (cough) Wayne, there’s (cough) (cough) smoke coming in here! (cough) Stop the car!” Christina shouted while pounding her fist on the closed glass partition to get his attention.
She knew he could hear her - after all, the divider wasn’t soundproof - it was almost as if Wayne was deliberately ignoring her crisis. And soon enough Christina’s oxygen starved lungs surrendered to the choking effects of the mysterious gas and the beautiful, young performer passed out.
That was six hours ago.
Now, the slender songstress stared at the wall across the room, deep in thought. She anxiously awaited her fate and meditated on her strategy of resistance like a commando leader preparing the tactics for a dangerous operation.
Christina Aguilera’s concentration was abruptly broken when the eerie presence of her determined kidnapper returned to the room. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, and he still had on his pair of Ray Bans. Wayne had a slight but sinister smile on his face as he approached the blonde-haired Latin beauty. He
was holding a big, fluffy pillow in one hand and small duffel bag in the other.
“Hello, Christina, my sweet.” Wayne greeted. “Are your ready for your tickle torture?”
Christina Aguilera, still gagged, could not answer the man. She just stared back at him with puppy dog eyes.
“Oh, that’s right. You can’t speak with that gag, can you?” He teased. “Here. I’ll take this thing off for you.”
Wayne untied and removed Christina’s gag; she drew in a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief. She then looked into her captor’s eyes with the most dead- serious and contempt gaze he had ever seen.
“I’m NOT ticklish,” she insisted. “I’ve never been ticklish and I never will be, so why don’t you just let me go now and maybe I won’t press charges.”
“Really?” He jeered. “We’ll just see about that.”
Wayne then put his duffel bag on the floor and walked behind the chair Christina was tied down to. He proceeded to tilt the chair back so that the back of the chair rested on the floor and Christina’s pretty head rested on the pillow he had placed down beforehand.
Oh no, she thought. Don’t start with my feet. Please, don’t start with my feet. God, I’m so ticklish on the bottoms of my feet.
Christina Aguilera’s sneaker-clad feet were now raised and totally vulnerable. Wayne slowly untied the pop star’s shoelaces, and then removed her sneakers and ankle-high socks from her feet. A warm feeling washed over the abductor as he saw how beautiful the girl’s feet were.
He then reached into the duffel bag and pulled out a bottle of body lotion. He poured some in his hands then rubbed the lotion all over the singer’s already smooth and excruciatingly sensitive feet. Even his rubbing the lotion on her feet totally tickled Christina Aguilera, and she made fists with both of her hands and bit down on her lip to try and maintain her composure.
Oh my god, that tickles, she thought.
Wayne dipped into the duffel bag again and this time he pulled out two stiff feathers. At first he started dragging them methodically up and down Christina’s helplessly exposed soles. It tickled her like crazy, and the giggles were already building up inside her like a shaken can of soda, but the defiant girl managed to keep her poor feet absolutely still.
I’m not ticklish, this doesn’t tickle, she chanted in her mind, desperately hoping she could convince herself it was true.
Wayne picked up the pace, rapidly swiping the feathers along the pop diva’s smooth soles, even pulling the feathers through the particularly sensitive crevices of her toes. Christina ’s body tensed more and she stared straight in front of her at the ceiling, taking in long breaths of much needed air through her nose.
“Kitchy kitchy koo. I know this tickles, Christina.,” Wayne teased.
“No, it doesn’t. I told you I wasn’t ticklish. You’re just wasting your time, man,” she grunted, with a hint of stress.
“I know you wanna laugh...c’mon...tickle tickle tickle,” he taunted as he switched to using the pointed end of the feathers and dragging them up and down the superstar’s soles and even the sides of her feet.
Christina didn’t budge; so far so good. She maintained her statue-like poise even though she could feel her walls of will power begin to buckle.
“Stubborn, eh?” He teased. “Well, don’t you worry your pretty little head. I know something that’ll really tickle your feet.”
With that said, Wayne dropped the feathers and proceeded to blow tiny raspberries all over Christina’s EXTREMELY TICKLISH bare feet. The singer’s eyes almost popped out of her head and she felt like jumping right out of her own skin as the terrible raspberries tickled her like nothing before.
No. Not that. Please. Not that. No. That tickles so bad. Stop. Please, she thought.
“Why fight it, Christina? You know it tickles. You wanna scream so bad, don’t you?”
“No, I don’t wanna scream. I wanna yawn. This is boring me. I told you I’m not ticklish.” She insisted, with a slightly trembling groan.
Her heart was racing as those ticklish raspberries on her feet kept on coming; the tickling sensations ran up her body and exploded in her brain like an active volcano. More and more she wanted to just shriek with ticklish laughter, but she was reminded of the promise she made to herself and not give in to this tickling menace, no matter what.
“Tickle tickle tickle...c’mon...brrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” he taunted with yet another ticklish raspberry.
Hang on in there, girl. Be strong. You can do this. Just remember, it doesn’t tickle. It does NOT TICKLE.
But it did tickle. It tickled very very VERY much, indeed! Christina Aguilera was getting weaker and weaker as her will power and her body were tested to their limits, and the talented and lovely singer finally passed out from sheer exhaustion.
Later, Christina Aguilera awakened from her much needed break. She quickly realized that she had been taken into another room. She also had been stripped down to her bra and panties and tied down spread-eagle to a twin-size bed. Shortly after, her Ray Ban-clad abductor entered the room with duffel bug in hand.
“I’m ba-aaack,” he sang, teasing.
“Don’t you ever give up?” Christina snapped, with a frown. “I told you I’m NOT a ticklish person!”
“Well, maybe I couldn’t break you by tickling your feet, but there still are other delicious spots on your body to explore.”
The sexy singer braced herself again for what would be her greatest challenge in trying to conquer this indomitable tickler. Now that she was half-naked and tied down in an even more vulnerable position, Christina Aguilera felt a hundred times more ticklish and closed her eyes and drew in another immense breath of air.
Wayne placed the duffel bag between Christina’s spread-eagle legs. He then got on the bed and climbed on top of the pop singer and straddled her. Wriggling his fingers menacingly, he slowly brought them down and rested them in the downy indentations of Christina Aguilera’s defenseless underarms.
“Tickle tickle tickle!” He taunted.
Oh no. Not under my arms. Please. No. That’s my most ticklish spot. Oh why does it have to be my armpits? She thought
His fingers just resting in her unbearably ticklish armpits was enough to make Christina Aguilera want to take off into outer space. And when Wayne did start to wiggle his fingers like little tickle spiders in Christina’s armpits, she wished she could’ve taken off into the stratosphere.
“Kitchy kitchy koo! C’mon! Tickle tickle tickle! Now I know THIS has to tickle. Kitchy kitchy koo!”
Must stay focused. Must stay focused. Oh god, does this tickle. But I gotta fight this. If I can just convince him he’ll never find a ticklish spot on my body, he’ll get bored with me and let me go. Yes. You can do it, girl. Just hang in there, she contemplated.
But this madman was tickling Christina Aguilera in her most ticklish spot and it was just a matter of time before her will power dam would break. Her body began to quiver a little as Wayne’s merciless stroking of her horribly ticklish armpits continued, and she felt her lips finding it even more difficult to contain the hysterical screams of ticklish laughter that were pushing their way to freedom.
“I’m NOT ticklish, Wayne. Why don’t you just give this up, man?” Christina managed to sputter, with a strained groan.
“Yes, you are,” he insisted, with a wicked smirk. “I know a spot were you could be deathly ticklish.”
The kidnapper then desisted tickling Christina under her arms for a moment and reached behind him so he could dig his fingers in that especially sensitive, fleshly part around her waist. This tickled Christina terribly and little beads of sweat began to form on her forehead. She felt her body trembling tremendously like a lid over a pot of boiling water.
The dexterous tickler, who the musical hottie only knew as Wayne, soon returned to Christina Aguilera’s susceptible underarms, then back to her waist, then back to her armpits, moving and tickling with the nimbleness of a telephone operator agilely working a busy switchboard.
Christina’s body began to jerk and twitch fiercely as if disregarding the orders of her mind and will to withstand the tickling. It was too much for the popular performer and she collapsed into helpless silent laughter.
“See? I knew your were ticklish! That’s it, baby! Let it out! Kitchy kitchy koo! I’m tickling you!” He gloated, satisfied that he finally got the ticklish beauty to break.
He tickled her under her arms, around her waist and in her ribs for ten more minutes before giving his lovely captive an imperative moment to rest. Her face was flushed, her beautiful hair was matted to her face, and her lungs sucked in air like a high-tech vacuum.
Wayne then dismounted from his ticklish prisoner and moved down to the end of the bed to where Christina Aguilera’s EXTREMELY TICKLISH bare feet were trapped hanging just off the edge. He grabbed the pop star’s right foot and pulled her toes back so that her soles were stretched taut; he then danced his fingers all over the bottom of Christina’s foot like little tickle spiders.
Christina Aguilera went berserk!
“BWAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! ST-ST-STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP! HAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”
“Kitchy kitchy koo! Tickle tickle tickle! I just looove tickling your ticklish feet, Christina,” he teased, expanding his tickle assault to include her left foot. The Latin cutie arched her back, bucking up and down on the bed, and whipping her hair back and forth.
Then Wayne reintroduced those extraordinarily ticklish raspberries to the soles and sides of her feet, and even underneath her toes.
“Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!”
“WOOOOOOOOHOOHOOHOOHOO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! STOP! PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE! THAT TIIIIIHIHIHIHIHIHICKLES! STOP ! OKAY! OKAY! I’M HAHAHAHAHA TICKLISH! I ADMIT IT! AAAAAAAAAAAGH! NOW STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IIIIIIIIIIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIT!”
Her captor then stopped blowing raspberries on her feet, and hopped back on the bed and started blowing them on her belly and in her soft, hyper-ticklish bellybutton. Christina’s eyes grew wide with excitement as she was astonished at how ticklish she was in that spot.
“Tickle tickle tickle! C’mon! Kitchy kitchy koo! Say it! Beg for mercy! I love it when you beg for mercy!” Wayne demanded.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! (gasp) OKAAAAAAAAAAAY! MERCY! (hiccup) HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! (hiccup) STOP! (gasp) PLEASE! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! I’M GONNA HAHAHAHAHAHA! WET MYSELF! PLEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEHEEASE! WAYHAYHAYHAYHAY HAYNNNNE! I’M BEGGING YOU! MERCEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
Wayne just couldn’t believe his luck! Holding the beautiful Christina Aguilera captive and tickle torturing her was a dream come true. And even though he knew he would eventually be going to prison for a long, long time, he would never forget the day he tickle-tortured this sexy singer to her limits and had her BEGGING FOR MERCY.
|06-06-2004, 09:13 PM||#2|
Gender: tickle starved male
Join Date: Sep 2003
Location: nr. london, uk
Tickler/Ticklee?: 100% 'ler (Ladies, keep yer shoes on!)
What a story!!! I wanna do that to her!!!
"May the tickling be forced upon you, young Jedi(ess)"
|06-06-2004, 10:12 PM||#3|
Join Date: May 2003
Great story, thanks for posting it!!!. Having a fantasy is always nice even though you know it will never come true in reality. You would have to be exremely fortunate to have a female friend who would let you do this to her instead of getting you into a lot of trouble.
|begging for mercy|
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