MENACING MRS. MITCHELL

A Tickling Tale - By Jack Hays Section #4.

Continued from last message . . .

I put my weight on the rope until her right arm was stretched high over her head, then secured it to the base of the tree. Now she had her right arm in the air, and her left still tied behind her. The stretched position made the fourth button pop off her blouse.

"I can't have you getting away here. I'm just getting you in a better position."

I stepped around the tree and undid the end of her left wrist rope. She immediately jerked her hand to the front and started grabbing at the ropes to try to get free. She whipped the end of the rope around and out of my grasp so that I couldn't grab it again.

"Now this has gone far enough! I mean it! You're not tying me up any more."

"Hey, you promised you'd do anything," I said, trying to grab the end of the rope.

"Forget it! Just wait 'til I get loose here. Then you'll be in trouble."

The knots of the ropes around her midsection and legs were out of her reach, so she reached up to try to undo her right wrist. She had to stretch, but she got her fingers on the knot right when I decided on my next strategy. I first dug all ten fingers into the left side of her ribcage. She let out a yelp and pulled her left arm down to protect herself. Then I crossed over to her right side and did the same thing, running my fingers all up and down her sides and into her now-exposed underarm. She tried to grab my hands but I was too fast for her. I kept goosing her all over her midsection, first one side, then the other, always just out of reach of her one free hand.

Then I got another idea. I knelt down in front of her and grabbed hard just above both knees.

"OH GODDAMMIT BOB! Not my KNEEEE-EEEEEEES! I really can't stand that! Stop, please, stop!"

She was trying to reach and grab me but with the ropes around her middle, she couldn't bend far enough over to get at me, or defend herself. I really had her now.

"Are you gonna hold still and do like you promised?" I asked, continuing to massage above, below and a very sensitive spot behind her kneecaps.

"Yesyesyes! Ahh-ah-EEEEEE! I'll do it! I'll do it!"

"And you won't tell anybody?"

"Nonono! No-ohh-body-EEEEE!"

"Okay, then, hold out your hand."

"All (gasp) right, Bob, but please, please, don't tickle me any more. It's torture, really it is," she said, sounding pitiful.

I wrapped her wrist with the rope and tossed the other end over the branch, pulling it tight and stretching her left arm high over her head, just like her right. Now she was even more accessible, and the struggling and stretching had caused her blouse to come open completely, exposing her ample breasts encased in a generous portion of Playtex Cross-Your-Heart lycra.

Just as I finished my handiwork, Kenny returned, carrying a large paper bag.

"Wow! Look at Mom! What happened? Did she try to get away?" I think Kenny was impressed with his mom's appearance.

"Yeah, she almost made it, too!" I said. "But I found out her secret."

"Oh, yeah? Which one?" Kenny asked. He obviously had even more information which might prove valuable.

"About how very, very tiiiiick-ull-ishhhh she is!" I advanced on Mrs. Mitchell wiggling all ten fingers in my most threatening manner.

"Oh, no, no, Bob! No more! Kenny Mitchell, you get over here this instant and get me untied. And my blouse is open. Undo these ropes so I can cover up. Now!" Mrs. Mitchell was clearly hoping her son would rescue her.

"Oh, man, I forgot about that. Uh-uh, Mom, you don't get turned loose yet. We've got even more stuff to do before we're done. You know, you used to tickle me all the time when I was little and I couldn't get away. Now it's my turn!" Kenny was on MY side!