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Madame Hortense, Part Ten
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 awakened from her nap to the sweet
sensations of David's fingers still busy about massaging her
feet. "Are you ready for your test, love?" she asked.
"Yes, Mistress," David replied.
"Did you just tickle me, or was I dreaming?" she asked
suspiciously.
"You were dreaming, Mistress," David answered.
Madame Hortense cocked her head to one side and eyed him
coolly. "I'm not so sure. I think I'd better assess you another
hour of tickle time just in case I WASN'T dreaming."
"Please, Madame Hortense," David begged, "I swear I didn't
tickle you! I was just studying your lovely feet!"
"Oh, David, I'm only teasing you," his mistress said with a
wave of her hand, "can't you take a joke?...I enjoyed your little
massage," she continued, "you certainly have a way with feet.
Are you ready for your test?"
"Yes, Mistress, I'm ready," he replied.
"You've made a thorough study of my feet in exacting
detail?" she inquired.
"Yes, Mistress, I have."
"So if I ask you to kiss a specific location on my feet,
you'll know EXACTLY where to kiss me?"
"Yes, Mistress."
"All right, smarty," she said skeptically, "I'll start you
off with an easy one. I want you to kiss the ball of my right
foot."
David bent and kissed the ball of Madame Hortense's right
foot.
"Very good, slave, I see you've been studying," Madame
Hortense was impressed.
"I have said that I have studied, Mistress."
"Indeed you have, my love! Now this one's a toughy. I want
you to kiss me on the big toenail of my left foot--right smack in
the middle."
David bent once more and applied his lips to his mistress's
left big toenail.
"You're one centimeter off, slave," she said in a clipped
tone. "YOU haven't done your homework!"
"But I kissed you right in the middle of your toenail,
Madame Hortense!" David whined.
"No you didn't," his mistress exclaimed in the same clipped
tone. "And don't you argue with me, young man. I'll spank you
if you argue with me again...and give you a tickling besides!"
"But I was close, wasn't I, Mistress!" David pleaded his
case, "doesn't close count for something?"
"Only in horseshoes and hand grenades, my dear. I fine you
one hour of tickle-torture for failing to obey orders...and while
I'm at it...come lay across my knee!"
David was terrified.
"Come, come, come," Madame Hortense command him, as a mother
would a child.
David lay resignedly across Madame Hortense's knee.
"I'm going to give you a spanking for arguing with me."
WHACK!
David felt the weight of Madame Hortense's powerful right
hand on his buttocks.
WHACK!
"Don't you ever argue with me again, young man! Do you
understand?"
WHACK!
"I will not tolerate such behavior from my slaves!"
WHACK!
"Now lay down on the bed and let me tie you up! I told you
I'd give you a spanking and a tickling and I meant it! In fact
you've got a LOT of tickling to look forward to. I'm giving you
the tickling you have coming for whistling while doing the dishes
AND the one you have coming for failing to kiss my big toenail in
exactly the spot I told you." Madame Hortense thought a minute
and then smiled slyly and mused, "In fact...I'm still not sure
you weren't tickling me in my sleep just now. I'm giving you a
tickling for that, too."
"But I DIDN'T tickle you," David whined.
WHACK!
"Do you want ANOTHER spanking, young man? I told you about
arguing with me. Now lie down and let me tie you up."
"But my butt is sore from your spanking," he pleaded.
"Oh, you're breaking my heart. LIE DOWN!"
David lay resignedly on the bed, his eyes misty with tears
as Madame Hortense tied his wrists and ankles to the four poster
bed with ropes. His sore butt could barely stand to touch the
bed. Madame Hortense observed her weeping slave and looked at
him pityingly.
"Awwwwww, is Mommy's widdle baby unhappy? Mommy will give
you something to laugh about," and she started tickling his toes.
"This is for whistling while doing the dishes!"
David began laughing and crying at the same time.
"Are you laughing or crying?" Madame Hortense asked.
"Both," giggled David through his tears.
"You're still CRYING? Well, I'll just have to give you
something else to laugh about," his mistress smiled, and she
tickled the soles of David's feet. "This is for failing to kiss
my feet in the exact spot I told you! Are you still crying?"
his mistress asked inquisitively.
"HAHAHAHAHA! No, Mistress. I love it when you tickle my
feet," laughed David.
"Well, kootchy, kootchy, koo," cooed his mistress and she
continued tickling his feet.
David was laughing hysterically. The exquisite
agony/ecstasy of Madame Hortense's fingers dancing over his soles
was more than he could stand.
"Did you know I play piano?" Madame Hortense inquired.
"You do?" David managed quizzically through is laughter.
"Would you like to hear my rendition of <<The Flight of the
Bumblebee?">>
David was puzzled but giggled, "Sure, Mistress."
"All right, slave," she said slyly, "I'm going to play <<The
Flight of the Bumblebee>>--on the soles of your feet!" And she
started tickling David's feet in time with the rhythms of <<The
Flight of the Bumblebee.>>
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Stop! Cut it out!
Please!" David laughed.
"Nooooo," teased his mistress, "That's your punishment for
tickling me in my sleep...besides, I'm having FUN. Why, I
haven't played piano in years. I'd forgotten how much fun it can
be. Now for my next selection, <<The Minute Waltz.>>"
"Oh, no, pleaaaase!" cried David as Madame Hortense tickled
his soles in time with <<The Minute Waltz, >>"Can't you play
something slower?"
"Suure, I can take requests," exclaimed his mistress
generously, "What would you like me to play?"
"How about <<The Dead March,>>" chuckled David.
"A Chopin freak in the audience, eh! All right, <<The Dead
March!>>" and she hammered out the rhythms of <<The Dead March >>on
David's helpless soles.
But the slow, heavy, insistent tempo of <<The Dead March >>
proved to be no relief from tickle-torture for David. In fact he
found the slower pace even more titillating. "How about <<The
Battle Hymn of the Republic!>>" he giggled. His mistress had
managed to tickle him silly. She obliged him with his request.
"Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!" David sang between senseless
giggles.
"Oh, you're really getting SILLY now," exclaimed Madame
Hortense. "Any more requests, slave? I have lots of songs in my
repertoire."
"How about <<War of 1812,>>" he giggled.
"You silly boy," she chided as she thrashed out the <<War of
1812 Overture >>on his toes, tickling them rapidly when she got to
the parts where the cannons go off. She then switched to some
popular music, doing a rendition of <<What I Say, >>by Ray Charles,
on the tops of her slave's feet, <<Pretty Woman, >>by Roy Orbison, on
his ankles, and <<Get Ready, >>by the Temptations on his soles.
"I've never had a slave who makes me feel the way that you do,
you're outta sight!" she sang along with her tickling, stopping
on the words "get ready" and starting up again on "'cause here I
come". David was beside himself with laughter not just from
being tickled, but from seeing his mistress genuinely enjoying
herself. She seemed so happy performing her pretend recital.
She had completely forgotten she was supposed to be punishing him
and had gotten completely caught up in the enjoyment of her
"piano playing", laughing, singing, and serenading her slave.
She finished off her recital with an encore performance of <<The
Flight of the Bumblebee.>>
"That's what I call SOLE music," David laughed.
"Silly boy," Madame Hortense chided tickling his foot with a
flourish, "you're not supposed to be enjoying this; this is your
punishment. Have you no better sense that to enjoy being
punished? Can you not recognize tickle-torture when it's being
administered?"
David only smiled.
"Oh, David," she said with a half shrug, "whatever am I
going to do with you?"
"How about another piano recital, Madame Hortense?" David
said eagerly.
"Oh, all right," replied his mistress in mock disgust, "but
on one condition; you have to play ME a recital this weekend when
YOU take over."
"Deal," agreed David, "let's shake on it." And Madame
Hortense shook David's right foot with her right hand to seal the
agreement. "You're in for a real treat this weekend, Mistress,"
David said.
"I can hardly wait," said Madame Hortense with a smile.
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