Tabitha's Tease: The Expanded Edition

Chapter Two-1

Chapter Two

His captors carried him through Dormitory Row, through bright lights and strolling co-eds who giggled and laughed at the humiliating procession. Robin’s stark embarrassment was greater than anything he had ever known. This was the end of his role at Valentine Academy, expelled and arrested as a masturbator and a Peeping Tom, his life utterly in ruins because he could not control his c**k, which remained swollen and erect in the cold night air as if nothing untoward had happened. They reached a sorority house featuring the letters TZR on the door. Tau Zeta Rho. The leading sorority on campus. All the cheerleaders belonged. All the hottest girls on campus. Young, sexy, rich, reveling in it. Purebred and pedigreed, unshakable self-confidence, the sort of girls who made him stammer and blush and feel like a fool. Now here he was naked and helpless, a captured masturbator and Peeping Tom, brought before them in the most devastating condition. His captors opened the door and pushed him inside, dragging him into a large room featuring a wide, low glass-top coffee table with brass legs, a large, ornate fireplace with the TZR logo above it, hanging sorority paddles, and numerous sofas and chairs. There was a large-screen TV and a wet bar.

The captors roughly pulled the net off Robin, spilling him onto the floor on his hands and knees. “We got him, Tabitha,” one of them said.

He looked up into a vision. Tabitha. A wet dream in red high heels and half a dress. All-American Hitchcock icicle blonde looks. A knowing, haughty R-rated smile that cut through him like a knife. Large, perfectly-shaped breasts barely restrained under her tight top. Luscious, long legs and shapely calves. His c**k saluted his lust as his face blushed its humiliation.

“Well, what have we here?” she asked with a gentle, amused smile that played at the edges of her mouth.

“We caught him jerking off in front of Sharon’s window as she was setting up Bobby for tonight’s games,” the leader said tauntingly, resting her tennis shoe on his back, pushing his face toward the floor.

“Well, we certainly can’t have that,” Tabitha murmured, looking down at him. “Poor boy. He obviously needs some s****l attention, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. His c**k has been jutting out so hard you’d think he likes being captured by a bunch of girls.”

“Maybe he does. Tell me,” Tabitha smiled down at her victim with a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin. “Do you like being captured by girls?”

Robin was too stunned to answer intelligently. “I-I...Please...” he stammered.

“Well, we’ll see what we can do for him,” Tabitha said. “Why don’t we get him something to relax?”

She gestured to the girls to pull him to his feet and then looked him over with a slow, calculating stare, sending shockwaves to the pit of his stomach. He felt his nakedness more strongly than before. It was not a pleasant feeling. “My friends call me Tabitha. You can call me Mistress. What is your name?”

He could barely stammer out his name. Living in a constant state of arousal, her presence was a torment to him. There was something about the way she moved that made him intensely aware of her naked body under her tight dress. Maybe it was the way that it revealed. Maybe it was the way she wore it. Her dress rode high on her legs. Deep cleavage made him want to lean forward to catch a glimpse of forbidden n****e. He had never wanted so much to grab a girl, take her, force her. And he couldn’t. He was her prisoner. His embarrassing erection was swollen and hot. Even though her dress didn’t cover much of her lusciously rounded curves, it sent all the signal he needed. She was in charge.

“Nervous?” she asked with mock sympathy. He nodded again. “We can’t have that. Here.”

She opened the lid of an ornate wooden box to produce a joint. “Here. Something to relax you, to get you into the right mood.” Gratefully, he accepted the lit joint and inhale deeply. The hot smoke seared at his lungs. After a few tokes, Robin was swimming in a velvet fog of high sensuality. His embarrassment was gone, but his c**k was still an iron bar. Tabitha looked deliciously beautiful, even more sensual. Pot always affected him sexually, and now he was completely lost in an erotic maze. Tabitha regarded him carefully, calculatingly. She stood up and put her hands on his shoulders, gently pulling him toward her. He moaned as their bodies brushed together, his insistent hardness pulsed as it touched her. When her warm, soft lips gently met his, he moaned and put his arms around her to kiss her deeply. “No,” she whispered through the kiss. “Arms by your sides.” He obeyed. Hers was the aggressive mouth, the probing tongue. He opened up to her, letting himself go, pushing his swollen c**k against her. If this was his punishment, then he was the world’s happiest prisoner. Then she stopped.

“Lay down on the glass table,” she whispered. He hated to move away from her, but quickly obeyed. The glass was cold; it was difficult to lay down. He could feel the expectant eyes of the other girls. They were dragging over chairs, sitting on the couch, waiting for something. His heart pounded in his chest. He thought he knew what was going to happen.

“Close your eyes,” Tabitha ordered, and he obeyed. He felt soft hands stroking his arms and legs. Delirious, horny, he writhed under her arousing touch. She had good hands, knowing hands. “Mmmm, delicious,” she cooed. “I’m going to enjoy this.” Gently, she dragged his arms above his head, and suddenly he felt something cold go around his wrists. When he heard a metallic “snap,” his eyes flew open! Tabitha had put handcuffs on his wrists and fastened the other ends to the table legs.

“Wait a minute,” he said, “W-what are you doing?”

Batting her innocent eyes, she smiled. “Why, I’m getting you ready for your punishment,” she said. “Surely you didn’t think was it.” She pulled one of his legs out and slipped a noose over it, fastening it to another table leg. Before he could react, she had his other leg fastened. He was helpless.

“Untie me,” he pleaded. “Please. I don’t like this.”

“Shhh, this is your punishment,” she replied. “You’ve been a very bad boy. If you behave and take your punishment like a man, we may not have to get you expelled.”

The threat was enough to calm him down a little bit, but being tied up scared him.

“Perhaps,” she smiled. “But you’ll certainly be a mascot. You’ll get more if you behave and don’t argue.”

He tugged experimentally at the cuffs. He was well and truly helpless. “W-what’s going to happen to me?”

She smiled. “You’ll find out, all in good time.”

“W-what are you going to do to me?” Robin asked repeatedly, becoming increasingly frightened. What had he gotten himself into? What were they going to do to him? All this just to attend a girl’s school so I can get laid he thought, and I still haven’t gotten laid

“Slow torture,” she smiled, trailing her fingers over his bulge. He strained upward to meet her gentle touch. Maybe this wasn’t going to be real punishment after all, he thought. Her fingers stroked gently up his chest to his n*****s, and circled them sensually, scratching at them, driving him insane with tortuous pleasure. Then they began to tickle, softly, tantalizingly. “How ticklish are you, anyway?” she asked with a teasing grin on her face.

His eyes widened with shock. “Oh, my god, no, please!” he cried, desperately and futilely tearing at his shackles. He was terribly ticklish. Vulnerable and scared, he fought for freedom. If willpower could have broken his metal bonds he would have been free. Just the thought of being tickled was more than he could stand. He hated the idea. Of course, that be his punishment.

“I guess I’ll find out myself,” she giggled. “Your underarms? The inside of your thighs? Your neck? Ooh, the widdle boy ticklish!” Her fingers played spider’s-legs over his spreadeagled and helpless body. He was ticklish, more ticklish than even he realized. Every spot she touched was more ticklish than the one before. He struggled to maintain control, then giggled helplessly, then began to laugh, cackle, convulse as the tickling grew in intensity. He pleaded desperately, his pleas choked off by bursts of helpless laughter. “No—ha, ha—please—no-oo!—hahahah!” he cried.

“I know,” she said brightly, “how about your feet?” The first scratch of her long red fingernail down his vulnerable arch made him scream helplessly. “Oh, baby, you’re very ticklish, aren’t you? Too bad. How about your kneecaps? Oh, your ribs! Careful, you almost hurt yourself. I don’t know when I’ve met someone so ticklish.” His laughter came in bursts and screams, wrenched from him at each touch of her wiggling, squirming fingers. If it weren’t for his erection, he was positive he would have wet himself.

“Oh, look! It’s been one minute. Only nine more to go,” she laughed, utterly in control and obviously enjoying herself without limit. Her wicked threat exploded in his brain. He would never live through nine more minutes of this eternal agony.

Her merciless fingers continued to tickle his underarms, his stomach, and n*****s. He writhed in helpless, uncontrollable laughter, squirming futilely to escape. He begged helplessly, “No...hahaha...please...stop...aaaah...no!” But her tortuous tickling continued. Seconds passed like hours.

As soon as he seemed to have his sensations under control she switched tactics, moving from gentle tease-tickling to digging her fingers into his twisting sides, convulsing him in agonies of bursting laughter. “Poor baby,” she laughed. “What’s the matter? Am I getting to you already? That can’t be right. I’ve got nearly six minutes to go!” Each announcement of time only prolonged his agony. Eternity minus eternity is still eternity.

Tabitha straddled his helpless body and sat down so her panty-clad crotch rubbed against the bulge of his hungry c**k. Then she attacked his vulnerable torso with her fingernails. He giggled and sputtered and pleaded with her to stop wiggling her fingers in his armpits, tracing her fingers up and down his arms and chest, and making slow, tormenting circles around his rock-hard n*****s. She dug her fingers into his sensitive sides, making him howl with agony. She tickled his ribs and tormented the agonizingly sensitive ridge of his hip with her fingertips.

“Oh, ha-ha, I ca-can’t stand-ha-ha-any more!” he pleaded futilely.

“Oh, I could,” she smiled. “I’m having so much fun I could extend it at least another ten minutes. How about you? Could you take fifteen more minutes of this? Your face is all red and there are tears in your eyes.” Devilishly, she traced the contours of his neck and sides, sending shivers up and down his body. Slowly and tormentingly, she moved her tickling fingers down his body, switching back and forth from tease-tickle to outrageous attacks on his ribcage.

Robin had never been so helpless, so unable to control his fate, so completely at the mercy of another. His c**k pulsed and bounced, desperate and crazy for attention, for some warm, wet place to go. But as devastating as this torture was, it was still about the sexiest thing that had ever happened to him.

Tabitha wiggled around, showing off her cute ass in a skirt that had ridden up high enough to reveal her pink panties, and then began to tickle the soles of his feet by dragging her nails up and down the sensitive flesh, driving him into a renewed frenzy. She laughed at his pleas and tickled his feet with even greater enthusiasm. He could feel his sanity slipping away in one eternal burst of s****l agony.

Finally, finally, she looked at her watch. “Your ten minutes are up,” she smiled.

Stunned, head reeling, his body a mass of sensitive nerves, he gasped for breath during the respite. He could barely concentrate on anything, but he was immensely relieved the torment had stopped, at least for now. He was still a prisoner, though. Experimentally he tugged at the cuffs and ropes. He could feel the red marks where the bonds had bitten into his wrists and ankles during his long, futile struggle.

Tabitha stood up and smoothed down her dress. He looked hungrily at her. Perhaps now he’d get what he so desperately needed. His c**k was so hard the sight of her body was nearly enough to trigger his orgasm.

“Enjoy yourself, baby?” she asked teasingly. Perching beside him on the table, she stroked her hands over him, rubbing her palm over his hardness. “Hmmm, looks like you leaked just a little bit.” She giggled. “Do you like being tickled?”

Fearfully he shook his head. “Please...I really can’t take that...ooh...” He was distracted by the feel of her hand against his c**k. If only she’d pull it out, maybe play with it or suck it, or even sit on it. He looked up at her longingly. “Please...please—oh,” he moaned. “Yes, please...”