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Madame Hortense, Part One
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Madame Hortense carried David's naked, unconscious body into
the bedroom and flopped it onto the bed. Her strong fingers
pushing against his pressure points had put him out like a light.
She raised David's arm in the air and let it go. It flopped at
his side like a wet rag. David was Madame Hortense's slave, and
he had displeased her by not having done the dishes by the time
she had come home from work. This was the third time this week
this had happened so she was compelled to render him unconscious
and tie his wretched body naked to the big four poster in the
Master (Mistress) bedroom. She peeled back David's eyelids and
then slapped him across the face.
"Wake up, you lazy bastard!" Madame Hortense snapped. This
is the third time this week you have failed to do the dishes and
now you must be punished!"
"Oh please, Madame Hortense, I forgot about the dishes. I
was so busy trying to clean the rest of the house that I didn't
have time to do them," David whined.
"Shut up!" she shouted. "Your just a lazy, good-for-nothing
son-of-a-bitch and you have to be taught a lesson!"
Madame Hortense opened a drawer in the bedside table and
pulled out a long feathered plume, stroking it menacingly.
"Please, Mistress," David exclaimed, "please don't tickle
me. You know I can't stand it when you tickle me."
"Well, that's just too bad, you disobedient twit," she said
ignoring his pleas. "This is what happens to slaves who
disobey."
She ran the feathered plum over David's stomach. He tried
to stifle a laugh, but it was no use.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh please, stop. I can't stand
it," he managed to say between giggles. But Madame Hortense paid
him no mind and continued her tickling. She ran the feather
under David's arms, under his nose, and across his forehead.
"HAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Oh, Mistress. M-m-mad-d-d-am H-h-hort-t-t-ense. Pleeeeeease!"
She ran the feather back down David's chest tracing circles
as she went. David's laughter kept up.
"HOHOHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHEHEEHEHEEEEEEEEEEEEAIAIAI!
I can't take anymore!"
"Shut up, you wimp and take it like a man!" she snapped
back.
The feather was crossing David's stomach now and inching its
way to his lower body. He bucked and jerked against the
restraints of the ropes, his body all a-tingle from the tickling
his mistress was giving him. She ran the feather down his leg
tickling him inside his thighs.
"AH AH AH AH AH AHAAAAAAAAA!" he exclaimed breathlessly
trying not to pass out.
She ran the feather down David's ankles in titillating
circular motions and finally came to rest at David's feet.
"Now for the grand finale," she said slyly. "I know you
just love it when I tickle your feet."
"No please, not my feet, pleeeease! I promise I'll remember
to do the dishes tomorrow if you just don't tickle my feet."
"Promises, promises," Madame Hortense exclaimed, and she ran
the dreaded plume over David's soles. He tried to jerk his feet
away but she had tied his ankles to tightly to allow that.
David's mind screamed inside his head. He was so out of breath
he could barely laugh out loud.
"Ha...ha...ha," he laughed weakly.
Madame Hortense intensified her tickling of David's feet,
running the feather over his toes and back down to his heels,
then in between his toes and over his insteps.
"AAAAAAAAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA!" he laughed
getting his second wind. "Oh Madame Hortense, pleeease don't
stop. I love it when you tickle my feet!"
"Starting to enjoy it, are we?" his mistress cooed.
"Oh yes pleeease, kind mistress," he cried eagerly.
"Well in that case, I think I'll something different," and
with that, Madame Hortense put down the feather and raked her
long red fingernails over David's toes.
"HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE! Oh--Madame--
Hortense--HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I--HAHAHHA--love it-HEHEHAHAHAHA!
Please--don't--stop--HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!"
"Well, I think you've had enough punishment for today, young
man," said the mistress. "Just you remember the dishes tomorrow
or else I'll have to punish you again."
Will David remember the dishes tomorrow? Stay tuned.
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