The Sweet Revenge Series
Brian's Second Chance
By: Unknown
Part One
"C'mon, Adrienne." Brian was trying to keep calm, but his voice
betrayed a hint of panic. "This isn't funny."
"Well, it looks pretty funny to me." His beautiful blonde wife
grinned. "I guess I can understand why you'd fail to see the humor,
though."
"Adrienne. let me go!" He squirmed in his bonds. "I'm starting to
cramp."
The drug she'd obviously slipped him was wearing off, and Brian
realized that he was in one hell of an uncomfortable position.
Adrienne had placed him naked on his knees, bound hands high
over his head, ankles tied to the ends of a sawed-off broom handle.
The free end of the rope binding his wrists passed over a pipe fixed
to the basement ceiling and was tied to the center of the broom
handle. The rope was short enough to raise Brian's feet slightly. As
a finishing touch, she'd screwed a small hook into the floor between
his thighs, looped some string around his dangling balls, and tied
the free ends to the hook. That kept his body tense -- *really*
tense.
"We'll get started in a moment," Adrienne said. "But first I want
you to understand *why* I have to do this, Brian."
"Adrienne, *please* -- "
"Beg all you want, Brian." She stepped forward and patted his
cheek. "I *want* to hear you beg. But it's not going to do you any
good. You betrayed me with those two tramps. And now you're
going to pay for it."
"Oh God Adrienne I'm *sorry* -- "
"No, you're not. But you will be." Adrienne gave him a long look.
"Can you guess how I've chosen to punish you, Brian?"
"Don't hurt me, Adrienne!" he squealed. "*Please* don't hurt me!"
"Oh, darling, don't worry!" She laughed. "It won't hurt a bit!"
And Adrienne showed him the feather -- the long, pointed, stiff,
white feather.
His eyes got big. "Omygod NO!" he gasped. "Not that, Adrienne.
You know how ticklish I am!"
"Exactly," she agreed.
"I'm begging you, Adrienne! Don't *do* this!"
He continued to beg and plead as she laid out her instruments on
the floor in front of him. Besides the feather, there were a couple of
artist's paintbrushes, a shaving brush, a length of knotted string, a
box of round toothpicks, and a fluffy orange feather duster. The
sight of them made Brian's asshole contract. *Oh, God,* he
thought. *She wouldn't -- she couldn't -- !*
Then Adrienne started to take her clothes off. She did it slowly, to
tantalize him, and he moaned softly when she was down to the
heels, sheer stockings and lacy red garter belt she'd always worn for
him on special occasions.
"You know, darling," she whispered, "it's hard to believe that you
gave up all *this* for a pair of cheap little sluts like Peggy and
Kim." She tossed her long blonde hair. "You see, Brian, I know all
about your girlfriends."
"That's right, Adrienne! You're right!" he babbled. "They *were*
just cheap sluts! One-night stands! They didn't mean a thing to
me!"
"Be that as it may," his wife said, stepping closer. "But now we
really should get started."
She knelt face to face with him and looked into his eyes. "The thing
is, darling, that I can't decide just *where* to begin. As we both
know, you're so *very* ticklish -- all over. Isn't that so?"
Brian wiggled in his bonds. His skin crawled with anticipatory
dread.
"Here, for instance," Adrienne whispered, drawing her fingernails
down his sides.
"HAAAA-AAAAH!" he yelped. "Oh Jesus no -- !"
"And here." She probed his armpits.
"EEEEE-HEEEE!" Brian squealed. Adrienne please -- !"
"And, of course, here." She stroked his belly.
"AAAAH-HAAAA!" he screamed. "Adrienne. . .stop! *Please!*"
"You're just so *sensitive* Brian." She grinned. "So masculine and
muscular." She ran her fingers through his dark chest hair. "Yet so
very, very *vulnerable* to my slightest touch. . ."
Adrienne flexed her fingers in front of his face. "Where should I
begin, Brian? You choose."
"Don't *do* this, Adrienne! Please! Please!" There was genuine
fear in Brian's voice now. He was totally aware of just how
unbearably ticklish he was. "I couldn't *stand* it!"
"Well," she sighed. "We have to start somewhere. How about
THIS?"
"AAAAH-HAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAA!" Brian shrieked as she
went to work on his armpits with the manicured tips of her index
fingers. "PLEEEE-HEEEE-HEEEE-SEEEE! HAAAA-HAAAA-
AAAAH-HAAAA! OOOOH-NOOOO-HOOOO-HOOOO!"
Brian's naked body trembled violently; the hairs on his arms and
legs stood up and quivered; his skin broke out in a delicate sweat.
And he laughed. Oh, how he laughed. He laughed, and he
laughed, and he *laughed*. . .
As for Adrienne, she was smiling coldly as her nails traced delicate
circles on Brian's ultra-sensitive skin. She found herself *enjoying*
her husband's struggles and his screaming laughter. And he was
making the most extraordinary *faces* in response to her
ministrations. It was all rather. . .interesting.
Adrienne's nipples extended themselves.
But she knew that she had to give Brian a rest. Adrienne had big
plans for her wayward husband, and it wouldn't do to exhaust him
in the first half hour. So, after about five minutes of nonstop
tickling, she decided to give him a short break. A very short break.
Brian sobbed with relief when she stopped. He sagged in his
bonds, red-faced and gasping. Tears streamed from his eyes.
"Please Adrienne. . ." His voice was a trembling whisper. "I. . .
can't *stand* this. I'll do anything. . .just please. . .don't *tickle* me
again."
"Aw, come on, darling." Adrienne turned to pick up one of the
artist's paintbrushes. "You don't really think I'd let you off *that*
easily, do you?" She held up the brush. "You haven't even
experienced *this* yet."
"What. . .what are you going to do with it?" he asked fearfully.
"Can you guess, Brian?" She leaned forward. "No? Well, sweetie,
what I had in mind was -- *this*!"
With an evil smile, Adrienne inserted the soft, pointed tip of the
brush into his navel and twirled it.
"HIIIIEEEEHEEEEHEEEE!" Brian screamed as his body
convulsed. "PLEEEE-HEEEE-HEEEE-HEEEE-SEEEE! AAAAH-
HAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAA!"
"Ooo, we *are* ticklish there, aren't we?" She twirled the brush
again.
"HAHAHAHAHAHA-AAAAH-HAHAHA!" Brain's belly rippled.
Had it not been for the string connecting his balls to the hook, he'd
probably have hit the ceiling. "EEHEHEHEHEHE! OHNO-
NOHO-HOHE-HIEE-EEAH-HAHAHAHA!"
"Want me to stop?" Adrienne inquired, withdrawing the brush from
his navel. "Want me to let you go, darling?" She swirled the brush
back and forth across his belly. "Well, I might -- *if* you tell me
what I want to hear."
"Anything!" he giggled. "Anything. . .anything you want, Adrienne.
Just please oh please *please* stop. . .*tickling*. . .me!"
"Well, since you say please." She put down the brush and patted
his cheek. "But you *have* been a naughty boy, Brian. Haven't
you?"
"Yes! Yes, I have!" He nodded in frantic agreement. "But I'm
sorry, Adrienne! I'm *really* sorry! And I'll never do it again!"
"No, I doubt that you will. But tell me, Brian. Did you love those
other women. Peggy? And Kim?"
"No! I *told* you, Adrienne! They didn't mean a thing to me!
They were just a couple of cheap sluts!"
"But how can I *believe* you, darling?" She picked up the feather
and touched it to his nose. "How can I be *sure* that you're telling
me the truth?"
"I swear to God, Adrienne!" he cried desperately.
"I think we're going to have to see about that, Brian." Adrienne rose
to her feet and moved around behind him. "I *almost* believe you,
but I think I want to hear you say it as if you mean it. As if you
*really* mean it."
Adrienne knelt behind him and Brian quickly realized that it was
going to be *much* worse now that he couldn't see what his
sadistic wife was doing. His muscles tightened. *Not the feet,* he
was praying desperately. *Omygod please not the feet -- !*
But Adrienne had other ideas. She touched the feather to the small
of his back. Brian squirmed. "My," she giggled. "You're so
completely *exposed*, darling."
Then Brian felt something horrible. . .something humiliating. . .
something that was completely beyond the bounds of his experience
-- as Adrienne swept the feather down the crack of his bare and
defenseless *ass* -- !
"OOOOH-NOOOO!" he screeched, squirming frantically.
"NOOOO-HOOOO-OOOOH-HOOOO! PLEEEEEEEESE-
HIIIEEEE-HEEEE-HEEEE-HIIIEEEE!"
It was beyond torture. It was an exquisite agony, and Brian
screamed hysterically. He was quite certain that nothing could
possibly be worse than *this* -- !
Then Adrienne dipped the feather down between his straining
thighs -- and Brian discovered that there was, indeed, at least one
thing worse than having one's asshole tickled.
The feather stroked his tied balls -- very gently -- and Brian did his
best to jump out of his skin.
"Oh, darling, does that *tickle*?" Adrienne laughed wickedly. She
stroked again. . .again. . .and *again*. . .
The maddening sensation forced ear-splitting shrieks of laughter
from Brian's raw throat. Each time Adrienne stroked, his exhausted
body twisted and jerked spasmodically. Cold sweat trickled down
his sides. Spittle flew from his wide-open mouth. Adrienne was
driving him crazy -- and there wasn't a damned thing he could do
about it. Brian was tickled pink -- and he felt at least half tickled to
death. . .
When finally she stopped he simply hung there, gasping, wheezing
and weeping, so utterly exhausted that he couldn't even beg for
mercy.
Adrienne got up and moved around to face him. She lifted his chin
and smiled into his tear-filled eyes. "Now, darling -- tell me again.
Tell me about Peggy and Kim."
And he did. He told her that they were a couple of cheap tramps,
sluts, bitches, cunts -- he told her that he'd hated and despised them
-- he told her that the thought of them simply made him want to
puke -- he told her --
"Enough." Adrienne let his head drop. "Well, Brian, that was more
like it. I believe you. And I promise not to tickle you any more."
"Oh, thank you!" he sobbed. "Thank you Adrienne thank you thank
you thank you. . ."
"There's just one thing, darling," she said.
Brian raised his head.
"I haven't introduced our guests." Adrienne smiled.
"What -- ?" Brian trembled. "Who -- ?"
"Well, really, Brian." She laughed. "You don't suppose I got your
drugged body down here all by myself, do you?"
"Oh Jesus!" Brian wailed.
"They've been listening to your confession, Brian. And now I think
*they'd* like to spend some time with you." Adrienne turned.
"Ladies?"
Two figures emerged from the shadows at the far end of the
basement. Brian recognized them -- and cringed.
"Peggy, Kim, he's all yours." Adrienne giggled. "But if you don't
mind, I think I'd like to stay -- and watch."
Part Two
Brian squirmed as Kim and Peggy ambled towards him. "Hey,
come on, please," he whimpered.
"Hi, lover," Peggy cooed. She was a long-legged, extravagantly
voluptuous redhead with jade-green eyes and striking features,
wearing what seemed to be the uniform of the day-- heels,
stockings, garter belt and nothing else. Her ripe breasts swayed as
she bent to bestow a light kiss on his nose.
"It's nice to see you again, Brian," Kim added with a grin. She was
a slender brunette with eyes the color of chocolate and a classically
beautiful face. "Especially in these circumstances." She patted his
cheek.
"Look, Peggy, Kim -- I mean, come on. . ." Brian couldn't keep the
fear out of his voice. "I didn't mean -- I mean, I had to say what I --
I mean she *made* me!
"Oh, sure." Kim ran a fingernail up his arm. "After all, as you told
us -- *both* of us -- you're a one-woman man."
"Yes, that what you said Brian." Peggy knelt face to face with him.
"In fact, you told me you were going to divorce your wife and marry
me."
"That's what he told me, too," Kim added.
"So now, darling," Peggy went on, "I'm beginning to get the idea
that you haven't been entirely candid with *any* of the women in
your life. And I have to ask myself: What's the proper punishment
for a worthless, cheating *shit* like you?"
"Peggy," he moaned. Kim, *please* -- "
"Shut up, Brian." Without warning, Peggy dug her fingernails into
his tender, unprotected armpits and upper sides. "HAHAHAHA!"
Brian screeched. "HIEEHEHEHEHE!"
"Adrienne was right," Kim said. "He *is* ticklish, isn't he? Funny
that I never noticed."
Peggy flexed her fingers again. "AH-HAHA-AHHA-AH-HAHA!"
Brian howled, writhing with an energy born of desperation.
"It's kind of cute, the way he wiggles," Kim said.
"Let's make him *really* wiggle," Peggy suggested. "I'll stay here.
You take the back."
"Sounds good!" Kim picked up the artist's brushes. "These should
do the trick," she said. "Hey, I bet his feet are *really* ticklish."
"Not my feet!" Brian protested in a panic-stricken voice. "Oh Jesus
*please* don't tickle my feet!"
Peggy selected the fluffy orange feather duster. "Ooo," she
whispered. "Now what should I do with *this*?"
Brian was about to renew his protest when something happened to
distract him.
"OH NO!" he screamed. "NO-HO! OH NOT MY FEE-HE-EE-
HE-HE-HE-HEET!"
Kim was stroking the heels of Brian's bare feet with the rounded
tips of the brush handles. She stroked slowly and steadily. . .up and
down. . .back and forth. . .around and around and *around* -- !
"IT TICK-EE-HE-HICK-HE-HE-HE-HICK-EE-HIEE-HICK-
HICKLES!" he screeched.
"And how about this, Brian?" Peggy went to work on his torso with
the feather duster. "Does this tickle *too*?"
But he didn't even hear the question. The indescribable sensations
now shooting through his body had Brian's undivided attention.
Kim was stroking his tender soles now, and Peggy was feather-
dusting his belly. Brian struggled against the torture, but it was
hopeless. Thanks to the fiendish ingenuity with which he'd been
tied in place, there was nothing to do but kneel there with his arms
above his head -- and take it. Even his squirming and writhing was
limited by the noose around his balls.
But Brian did his best.
After five minutes or so, Peggy tired of the feather duster and
switched to the shaving brush. She used it on his armpits to
dramatic effect, and Brian showed how much he appreciated her
efforts by trying to turn himself inside out. Meanwhile, Kim had
turned her attention to his toes. She held each one between thumb
and forefinger, and carefully brush-stroked the tender spaces
between.
"EEHEE!" Brian shrieked. "EEHE-HE-HE-EEHEHE!"
"Having fun, darling?" Peggy whispered.
If he wasn't, the redhead was. Somewhere along the line her
nipples had stiffened, and she was increasingly conscious of a warm
dampness between her thighs. Peggy was surprised. She'd agreed
to this because she wanted to get back at Brian. But this, she was
thinking, this was. . .interesting.
Peggy wondered if Kim was having a similar reaction.
They tickled Brian until his whole body was pink and sweating, and
his laughter had dwindled to a dry wheeze. When they stopped, he
continued to tremble and jerk for a good minute.
Adrienne stepped forward to have a look at her gasping husband. "I
hate to say it girls," she giggled, "but I think you can stick a fork in
him. He's done."
"Oh." Kim frowned. "Too bad. I was just getting. . .interested."
Peggy gave her a look.
"I know," Adrienne said. "But we don't want to *kill* him. Do
we?"
"I suppose not," Kim admitted after a moment.
"Anyway," said Adrienne. "It won't be much fun if he's too weak to
squirm."
"You know," said Peggy, "I may have an idea. Check this out. . ."
The three of them went into a huddle. Brian hung in his bonds,
still gasping. Though he tried, he couldn't quite hear what they
were saying. That should have scared him -- but Brian was too
grateful for this blessed respite to fear for the future. It was enough
that they'd stopped tickling him.
For the moment.
When the huddle broke, all three women closed in on him. Peggy
knelt in back; Adrienne knelt in front; Kim stood off to the side.
"Don't. . .tickle me. . .any more. . .please!" Brian croaked.
"We wouldn't *dream of it, sweetheart," Adrienne assured him.
"No, you've been such a *good* boy that we want to do something
nice for you."
And she put a warm, soft hand on his cock.
Despite the prolonged tickling to which he'd been subjected -- or
perhaps because of it -- Brian's joystick responded immediately.
Before he'd quite grasped what was happening, Adrienne had
coaxed him to a full, throbbing erection. Meanwhile, Peggy was
stroking his tight balls with gentle fingers.
Brian moaned and wiggled his hips.
"Feel good?" Adrienne whispered, running a finger up the length of
his uptilted shaft.
"Oh. . .yes!" Brian sighed.
"Want to *cum*?" his wife whispered.
"Please!" Brian gasped. He couldn't believe this. The three of them!
Jesus, it was worth the tickle torture -- it was too good to be true!
And so it proved. Adrienne teased the head of his cock with a
fingertip as she explained the rules. "Well, sorry, Brian. You're not
allowed to cum. We'll be nice to you all right, but if you lose it and
squirt -- I'm afraid you'll have to be punished again."
More tickling! The sweat turned cold on Brian's skin. But maybe,
he was thinking, just maybe it would be worth it.
"Why don't you take over, Kim?" Adrienne stood up. "I'll just
move over here."
Kim knelt, leaned forward, kissed Brian lightly on the lips, and put
both hands on his cock. Adrienne knelt on his right side and began
caressing his chest, belly and back. Peggy was still petting his
balls. Brian was in guy heaven. *Fuck them,* he thought. *Let
them tickle me. After this, I won't give a shit. And they'll have to
let me go soon or later.*
Kim teased him gently to begin with, but when his hips began to
thrust she reciprocated with a firmer stroke. "Want me to go fast?"
she inquired with an evil grin.
Brian managed to nod.
"I don't think so," she said. "Not yet, anyway. I wanted to try this
first."
Kim picked up the knotted string and dangled it in front of his face.
Then she wrapped the ends around her index fingers, slipped the
string under Brian's cock, and pulled it tight. Brian shuddered
when it snapped against his manmeat.
Kim smiled. You'll like this, darling," she whispered. "I just
*know* you will."
She was right.
When Kim began dragging the knotted string back and forth, his
body and his mind went ballistic. "UNNNNHHH!" he grunted.
"UH-UH-UH!"
And it got even better when Peggy slid her hand forward to stroke
the base of his shaft. "HMMMMUMMMM!" he growled,
squirming with pure pleasure now. "UMMMM-UH-UMMMM!"
"I think he wants to cum," said Peggy.
"Do you, sweetie?" Adrienne asked. "Remember what I said."
"Fuck that!" Brian shouted. "Oh fucking *shit* I want to fucking
*cum*!"
"If you insist," said Adrienne.
Kim and Peggy made short work of it. In less than thirty seconds
they had Brian tense and trembling on the brink. A frantic,
delicious sensation gripped his balls. A tiny drop of clear liquid
appeared at the very tip of his cock. Kim edged to one side.
"Any time, now," she whispered, stroking *fast*."
And with that, Brian arched his back, wiggled his hips, and
commenced to cum his brains out.
The first three spurts went half way across the basement. The next
half-dozen walked back towards him. The final three jumped up
feebly and landed between his knees.
"Oh *fuck*," he breathed as a series pleasurable aftershocks shot
through his body. "It was worth it. So go ahead. Tickle me."
In fact, he found himself *wanting* to be tickled now.
But Adrienne laughed.
"We're not going to tickle you any more, Brian," she said.
"But you said -- "
His wife laughed again. "Oh, you're going to be punished, all right.
I *told* you not to cum, didn't I? But Peggy, Kim and I are out of
here. We've got dinner reservations. As for you. . ."
Brian became aware that someone else had entered the basement.
Who the hell -- ?
"This is David. He's my cousin," said Kim. "And he's been
*dying* to meet you."
"What the *fuck* is going on?" Brian cried.
Kim smiled. "You're just David's type, lover. He likes them
masculine and muscular."
"Oh my God no!" Brian gasped. "You can't! I won't!"
David was taking his clothes off. He was a slender, smooth-
skinned young guy with dark hair, long lashes and pouty lips.
"Well, guys, have a good time," said Adrienne. "Oh, and Brian. If
David can make you cum, we'll consider your punishment
concluded. You blew it once. Here's your second chance."
"No! Wait!" he cried as the three women headed for the basement
stairs. "Stop! Don't *leave* me -- please!"
David knelt face to face with Brian. He licked his lips and said,
"So, Kim tells me that you're *really* ticklish. That's great! I just
*love* to tickle."
"Leave me *alone*!" Brian wailed. "Adrienne! Don't let him *do*
this!"
"I guess you're not quite ready to cum," David whispered, glancing
down. He ran his fingers through Brian's chest hair. "This might
take some time."
"You can't *make* me!" Brian sobbed.
"Really?" David smiled. "We'll see. And you might be surprised."
The basement door slammed shut.
Brian screamed.