#ff/m tickling | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rullakebu · 5 days ago

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Order of The Fox (FF/M, tickling, fur fetish)

Jimmy skimmed through the stack of documents on his table, the rustling of paper echoing off the walls of his office. He sighed a deep, frustrated sigh. The pile must have contained over 150 documents, all more lengthy than the last.

“I just can’t be fucking bothered, honestly,” Jimmy thought to himself, glancing at the plaque on his table. “Jimmy Wright, Detective, New Helsing Police Department,” it said, in bold dark lettering. Having always dreamed of being a detective since a youngin’, his work would overwhelm him every once in a while, when the cases just compiled on top of one another. All those detective and agent movies weren’t always realistic.

Just as Jimmy was about to rise from his lush office chair:

Knock knock…

“Come in!” Jimmy answered, trying to mask his irritation.

In walked a 40-year-old blonde woman, with a blunt bob haircut. Her all black outfit consisted of a pair of black heels, black dress pants and a black blouse. Tying the outfit together was a massive fluffy blanket scarf, its big tassels swaying as she moved, that she had wrapped around her shoulders loosely. Her green eyes met Jimmy’s, as she walked through the door.

“What is it now, Janine?” Jimmy asked, his voice strained but trying to sound casual.

Janine closed the door behind her, taking a moment to adjust her scarf before setting her gaze on Jimmy. She moved with a quiet confidence, her sharp green eyes meeting his. “You look like you need a vacation,” she remarked dryly, her voice smooth like silk, but carrying an edge.

“I have a new case for you, Jimmy,” Janine informed, setting a file on his table.

“What a surprise…” the 25-year-old remarked, scratching his head through his short dark brown hair.

“I think you’ll actually find this interesting!” Janine smirked, her eyes glinting with an almost mischievous energy as she watched him. “You haven’t had a case like this, I can tell you that,” she continued, picking up the document. “Give it a read,” she said, handing it forward.

“Alright, what is it?” Jimmy snapped back, taking the document off Janine’s hands. “Fur clad women; mysterious noises…” Jimmy muttered, squinting his eyes.

“Keep going…” Janine said.

“Multiple women dressed in fur clothing have been spotted walking into a back alley on 18 Botten St.. Residents of the building surrounding the alley report strange sounds coming through the vents that sound like screaming and sometimes even…” Jimmy trailed off, slowly processing the words.

“Laughing…” Janine finished for him, her tone low and tense.

Jimmy’s brow furrowed as he read through the report again. “Laughing? What the hell is this all about?”

“That’s not all, Jimmy,” Janine’s eyes never left him. “It’s not just strange noises. People have gone missing from the nearby area of that alley. They vanish, and no one can explain it. The sounds… they don’t make sense. One resident swore they heard what sounded like a man pleading for help one night. But the sounds keep coming back, louder each time.”

“Women in fur, kidnappings, strange noises. This all sounds like a bad crime story some idiot wrote on the internet,” Jimmy snickered, flipping through the rest of the file. His fingers drummed against the desk as he processed the bizarre details. “Tell me there’s something concrete here, Janine. Something more than just creepy sounds and fashion choices.”

Janine pulled a USB-drive from her pocket and placed it on Jimmy’s desk with a deliberate tap. “You want something concrete? Watch this.”

Jimmy raised a brow but took the drive without a word, plugging it into his computer. The screen flickered as a grainy surveillance video loaded. The footage was from two nights ago, just around midnight.

“This is from the street a block over…” Jimmy realized.

“Yes, keep watching,” Janine commanded.

At first, nothing happened. The alley was empty, save for a few garbage bins and the distant flicker of a streetlamp. Then, movement.

A man stumbled into the frame. Late twenties, hoodie and jeans. His posture was loose, his head tilted down slightly as he walked, shoulders rising and falling with slow, even breaths.

Jimmy leaned in. “Who’s that?”

“Elliot Vaughn. Reported missing yesterday morning.”

Elliot continued down the sidewalk, his pace unhurried. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone and glancing at the screen before slipping it back inside. Just another late-night walk home, nothing unusual—until she appeared.

From the edge of the frame, a woman stepped into his path, stopping just short of him.

She was cloaked in a thick fur coat, the soft texture catching the dim glow of the streetlamp. Even in the grainy footage, there was an elegance to the way she moved—graceful, deliberate, as if she knew he wouldn’t just brush past her.

Elliot halted when the woman in fur stepped into his path. His body language was relaxed—there was no sign of alarm or discomfort, only mild surprise. He glanced up at her, a slight curiosity in his eyes, and she raised a gloved hand, gesturing subtly as she spoke. He hesitated only briefly, then tilted his head slightly in response. Whatever she said, he seemed willing to listen.

For a moment, the two exchanged words, their conversation low and casual, almost as if they were old acquaintances. Elliot adjusted his backpack and moved his hands into his pockets as they walked side by side, the woman’s pace matching his. There was no tension in the air, just the easy rhythm of two people passing the time.

They continued down the sidewalk, moving with purpose, and turned onto Botten Street. The alley ahead loomed dark and narrow, with only a faint flicker from the streetlights providing any light.

Jimmy leaned forward slightly, eyes glued to the screen. “He’s just… walking with her.”

Janine nodded. “No struggle. No resistance. Just a calm walk.”

Elliot and the woman approached the entrance to the alley without missing a beat. The camera caught a few more moments of them talking, but the conversation was muted.. Then, they both disappeared into the darkness of the alley.

Janine’s expression remained unreadable. “He was never seen again. Just like the others.”

“What the hell?” Jimmy’s voice was low, his words carrying disbelief as he leaned back in his chair.

Janine’s gaze didn’t waver from the screen. “That’s exactly it, Jimmy. There’s no sign of a struggle, no forced entry, no desperate cries for help. Just... people walking into that alley and never coming out.”

“I gotta figure this out. I’m going there to see what this is about,” Jimmy informed, a flame of determination in his voice.

Janine’s eyes flicked toward him, her expression unreadable, but there was a sharpness in her gaze. “You sure about this? It’s not like any case you’ve worked before.”

Jimmy stood, pacing the room for a moment before he answered. “I’m sure. People don’t just disappear without reason. Someone or something’s pulling them in, and I need to find out what it is before it happens again.”

“Alright, but promise me you’ll be careful,” she said, her tone softening. She gave him a warm, knowing smile, the hint of concern still lingering. “And maybe take a vacation after this? You could really use it.” She reached down, picking up a tassel of her scarf. Slowly, she traced it along the line of Jimmy’s jaw, the soft fabric tickling his skin in a slow, teasing motion.

Jimmy’s gaze met hers, a mix of amusement and something deeper in his eyes. “A vacation, huh? Yeah, maybe. But first, I’ve got to solve this.”

Janine’s smile deepened, a glint of mischief returning to her eyes. “Just don’t get yourself into trouble, Jimmy. You’ve got that stubborn streak a mile wide.”

He chuckled, though his mind was still heavy with the weight of the case. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

With one last look at him, Janine turned toward the door and began to close it. Just as it was about to click shut, she paused, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “And, hey… don’t go ahead and let yourself be seduced by some fur lady while you’re at it,” she teased, giving him a playful wink.

“Ah, don’t tease me, Janine…” Jimmy chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. He gave her a mock scowl but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at his lips.

“But seriously, it’s time to figure this out.” Jimmy thought to himself.

As the cab Jimmy had picked up pulled up to Botten Street, he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. The alley where the disappearances had occurred was just a few steps away. His breath caught for a moment, but he quickly shook it off.

He paid the driver and stepped out, his boots hitting the pavement with a sharp click. The street was eerily quiet, the occasional rustle of wind the only sound breaking the stillness. He glanced at the alley ahead, its dark mouth like an invitation to something unknown.

With a deep breath, he began walking toward it, every step growing heavier as he neared the place where the men had vanished. This wasn’t just a case anymore—it was something personal. And he was going to get to the bottom of it, no matter what it took.

As Jimmy reached the center of the alley, he glanced around, looking for something. It was a normal alley. Narrow, littered with trash, and dimly lit by the faint glow of a distant streetlamp. The kind of alley you could walk through a hundred times and never think twice about; nothing special about it.

“There has to be something…” he thought to himself.

That’s when he heard the chatter of two women approaching.

“Shit!” he whispered, instinctively ducking behind a nearby dumpster, holding his breath. His heart started to race, and he peered around the edge, trying to get a glimpse of who was coming.

Through the dim light, he could just make out their silhouettes—two figures in dark clothing. They weren’t dressed in anything particularly out of the ordinary, but something about the way they moved caught his attention. There was a fluidity to their movements, a purposeful energy that felt out of place in such a quiet, abandoned alley.

They stopped just a few feet away from where Jimmy was hiding. He held his breath, hoping they wouldn’t notice him.

One of the women stepped forward, her heel clicking softly against the ground as she approached what seemed to be an unremarkable section of the alley wall. It looked like just another brick facade, but Jimmy's sharp eyes noticed a faint outline near the base—a hidden hatch.

The other woman, standing a few steps behind, spoke in a quiet, deliberate tone. “20, 9, 3, 11, 12, 5.”

Jimmy’s mind raced. “What the hell was that?” The numbers hung in the air, strange and cryptic, but as if they were a code—a sequence that meant something only to them.

As soon as the last number left her lips, a hidden hatch slowly opened, revealing a dark, narrow passageway leading down beneath the ground.

The women didn’t hesitate. The first woman stepped forward, disappearing into the darkened entry. The second woman lingered for a brief moment, scanning the alley with sharp, calculating eyes. Jimmy froze, hoping he hadn’t been spotted.

After a tense few seconds, she turned and followed her companion, the hatch closing silently behind her.

“Holy shit!” Jimmy mouthed, his heart pounding in his chest. He stood still for a moment, processing what he had just witnessed. The chill in the air felt heavier now, pressing down on him as his mind raced with a dozen questions.

Jimmy sneaked his way to the same spot the women had stood at a moment prior. His pulse was racing, but his instincts pushed him forward. He had to know what was going on.

With a shaky breath, he whispered to himself, repeating the sequence the woman had spoken just moments ago: “20, 9, 3, 11, 12, 5.”

Slowly, the bricks shifted, grinding against each other with a low, unsettling sound. The same panel from before slid open again.

The dark passageway loomed before him, but there was no turning back now. He had come this far. There were answers waiting below, and he wasn’t about to walk away just because things had gotten... strange.

He took the first step down the stairs, facing his fate.

At the bottom of the stairs, the passage opened up into a vast underground tunnel. The walls were lined with old pipes and rusted machinery, casting long shadows in the dim light from the few flickering overhead bulbs. The air here smelled like old iron, damp and metallic.

At the very end of the tunnel, something caught his eye—a light. Not the soft, flickering glow of the overhead bulbs, but something brighter, more deliberate, more alive.

Slowly, Jimmy made his way toward the light, his footsteps barely making a sound on the cold stone floor. His heart beat faster with each step, the air growing heavier as he moved closer to the glowing source. The shadows seemed to shift around him, stretching longer the further he went.

When Jimmy finally reached the end of the tunnel, he stopped. The passage before him opened into a series of hallways, far more elegant than anything he had encountered so far. The walls were adorned in deep crimson. Victorian-style wallpaper, heavy with dark patterns, lined the walls, and ornate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their flickering light casting strange, elongated shadows across the floor.

Just opposite the entrance to the tunnel, stood a golden statue. It was finely crafted, almost lifelike in its detail. The statue resembled a fox, its features elegant and poised. Its body was in mid-stride, the tail curled up behind it in a graceful arc.

What stood out even more was the wooden board placed atop the statue, with simple but bold lettering etched into it: "Order of The Fox."

“What is this order? What does it have to do with the disappearances? And why the fox?” Jimmy thought to himself.

Shaking off the unsettling thoughts, Jimmy took a deep breath and pushed forward, deciding not to get stuck in the moment. He continued down the hallway, looking for anything of substance to discover, then suddenly.

Click.

The sound of heels clicking approached Jimmy, increasing in volume with each step.

“Oh!” Jimmy snapped, a sense of panic overwhelming him. He scanned his surroundings and saw a cabinet in the hallway. Not hesitating for a moment, he opened the door and stepped inside. He didn’t close the door all the way, though. Just enough to peek through for when the danger had passed.

The heels continued to echo down the hallway, each click sounding sharper and closer. Jimmy could hear speech now. It almost sounded like the woman was upset. The steps were just outside Jimmy’s hiding spot. Jimmy held his breath, hoping he wouldn't be heard. His heart pounded in his ears, his body tense with anticipation.

Through the crack in the door, Jimmy caught sight of her—a woman with ginger hair that waved just past her shoulders, wearing a luxurious deep blue fox fur coat. The fur shimmered in the soft light, swaying gently with each movement.

Her voice, sharp and urgent, cut through the air, as she held a phone to her ear.

"Oh yeah? Well, you can tell Regina that..."

Her words trailed off as she turned the corner, her heels clicking further away. Jimmy remained motionless for several long moments, listening for any sign of movement. The silence settled over the hallway once again.

Jimmy let out a deep sigh, his breath coming in long inhales and exhales. Jimmy’s breath caught in his throat as the soft sensation of something brushing against his arm broke through his thoughts. His body stiffened, and for a moment, he froze, his heart hammering in his chest. The warm, plush texture against his skin was unfamiliar—and then it hit him.

He was surrounded by fur.

The realization came like a wave. His panicked mind had barely registered it before, but now, as the soft material shifted around him, he recognized the soft, luxurious feel of the coats lining the inside of the cabinet. Fur coats, stoles, wraps. He was hiding in a storage cabinet packed full of them, and the warmth that had washed over him was coming from the dense layers of fur.

Jimmy stepped out of the cabinet, glancing back at it in surprise. “How did I even fit in there?” he muttered under his breath. The cabinet was packed—how had he managed to stay so hidden?

Shaking the thought away, he refocused. He had a job to do, and there were answers waiting ahead.

Jimmy moved cautiously down the hallway, his steps quiet as he neared a door with a small window. Curiosity tugged at him, and he peeked inside.

The room beyond was a classroom, but it wasn’t like any classroom he’d seen before. A group of women sat in neatly arranged seats, all of them dressed in luxurious furs, some with long, plush fur stoles draped across their shoulders, others with full-length coats, some with both. At the front of the room, the teacher—a woman draped in a golden island fox fur poncho—stood beside a projector. Her movements were fluid, the fur swaying with each gesture, catching the dim light in a way that felt almost hypnotic.

The projector screen displayed an image of a man. His figure was outlined in vivid color, with certain areas marked in red: the armpits, feet, neck, sides, ribs and the groin. Nearby parts of his body were shaded in orange, green, and blue. The significance of the marks was clear. They were teaching sensitivity.

Jimmy swallowed hard, his curiosity piqued but his instincts on edge. He moved quickly, trying to shake off the strange feeling creeping up his spine. As he made his way onward, the unsettling sense that he had stumbled into something much larger than he expected only deepened.

"Please!" a desperate cry echoed, bouncing off the walls of the complex. The voice was unmistakably male.

Jimmy followed the sound, his steps quickening as the voice grew louder with each passing moment. He turned another corner, his pulse racing. Every instinct told him to move faster, but he couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that something wasn’t right.

Then, just as he was nearing the source of the sound, the unmistakable click of heels echoed down the hallway again. This time, it was two sets, in perfect sync. His heart skipped a beat, and he immediately froze, scanning his surroundings.

Seeing an empty classroom just ahead, he rushed toward it and slipped inside. He pressed himself against the wall, barely breathing, as the sound of heels grew louder, closer. “Not again!” he muttered under his breath.

The two women passed by the classroom, their heels clicking sharply against the floor. The first woman wore a sleek, deep purple fox fur coat that shimmered under the dim lighting. Her outfit was elegant, but the fur made it stand out, the soft material draping over her shoulders with an almost regal look. The second woman was dressed in a similar style, but her coat was a lighter, silvery grey, and the fur was fluffier, almost cloud-like as it cascaded down her back. They both looked like a pair of clouds traversing down the corridor.

As they walked by, one of them glanced at the other and remarked with a sly smile, “Did you see the stoles Bianca brought us?”

The second woman’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “Yeah. I can’t wait to try them on myself… and on him.”

Jimmy pressed on, trying to focus, blocking out the lingering echoes of the women’s words. His steps were quieter now as he continued to follow the distant sound, hoping it would lead him to whatever was hidden deeper within this labyrinth of hallways.

Jimmy’s heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of unmistakable male legs turning the corner up ahead. He froze for a moment, processing the brief glimpse before quickly gathering his bearings. There was no mistaking it—someone was here. A man, and he’d just vanished from view.

Jimmy picked up his pace, moving as silently as he could while keeping his eyes fixed on where the man had turned. He reached the corner and peeked around it, catching sight of the man just as he disappeared through a wooden door labeled "7" in bold, black lettering. The door shut with a soft click, its frame blending into the dimly lit hallway.

Jimmy took another step forward, scanning the corridor. More doors lined the passageway, each marked with a different number stretching further down into the unknown. Small, rectangular windows were embedded in each door.

Then, he heard it.

The air trembled with sound, soft at first, then unmistakable. Laughter. Muffled, forced, and layered. It wasn’t just one voice. Multiple voices. Men, their chuckles and gasps blending together into a chorus of helplessness.

Jimmy steadied his breath and leaned closer to the window of Door 7. His eyes widened.

The room inside was unlike anything he had expected. The far wall was covered entirely in thick, luxurious fur, wine red and inviting, as if designed purely for touch. And against that wall, strapped tight with leather restraints, was the man he had been following, now entirely naked. His wrists were pinned high above his head, ankles spread apart, his body locked in place.

Next to him, a large paper canvas stood, its edges curling slightly. Bold, black strokes of ink spelled out a message that read "NO BACK TALK TO YOUR MISTRESS!"

Then, his eyes dropped to the woman standing before the bound man.

Her caramel hair waved down her back as she exuded power and elegance, wrapped in an enormous silver fox fur stole draped over her shoulders. Beneath it, she wore a sleek, form-fitting black dress, slit at the side, revealing just enough of her stocking-clad leg to add an air of controlled seduction. She wore black glistening satin gloves, trimmed with the same fur as her stole.

Her fingers skittered up and down his sides, the sleek satin gliding effortlessly over his bare skin like butter. The man jerked violently in place, his muscles contracting with each touch. His stomach tensed, his chest heaved, and his restrained arms quivered as he tried to twist away.

Her fingers traveled higher, gliding up, up, up, slipping into the hollows of his underarms. The instant they made contact, the man screamed with laughter, his body arching violently, his laughter now raw and unrestrained. His fingers clenched into tight fists, his legs trembling with sheer overstimulation as she wiggled her fingers in his sensitive armpits.

She was tickling him.

That was it. That was the answer. The laughter in the vents, the missing men, every strange turn this case had taken, it all led back to this. This place. This complex. It was a den of tickling.

Jimmy crept to the next door, his breath steady but his pulse racing. Slowly, he peeked inside. At the center of the room stood a man, also completely naked, with his hands tied above his head to the ceiling. His ankles were secured to the floor with cuffs, preventing him from escaping.

Standing behind him was a woman dressed in a full length cream blue fox fur coat and a sumptuous stole to boot, completing her opulent look. Her long, red nails explored his armpits with malicious vigor as he squirmed and twisted. The soft fur of her coat and stole brushed against his back as he thrashed and cackled, unable to escape the ticklish torment.

Only the woman wasn’t alone. In front of him kneeled another woman, dressed in nothing but lingerie, draped in a long, plush fur boa. With a mischievous grin, she wielded a feather duster, running its soft, fluttering feathers slowly and deliberately along his exposed genitalia. Every stroke sent fresh waves of ticklish tension through him, leaving him shuddering in ticklish, fluffy ecstacy. His cock wasn’t visible, but it was somewhere in there, hidden by a cloud of ticklish feathers.

“Oh my god…” Jimmy breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, laced with shock and disbelief.

He skimmed through the different rooms, each more shocking than the last. One room held a woman in a lush silver fox cape, its thick fur swallowing her frame as she straddled a restrained man. Her manicured fingers teased along his ribs, her breathy laughter mixing with his shrieks as she whispered sweet nothings into his ear as the edges of her cape teased his skin as he struggled.

Further down, a woman in a black fox fur coat and matching fur hat stood behind a man secured in stocks, her gloved fingers delicately tracing patterns on his stretched-out arches. Every flick of her wiggling fingers sent tingles of tickle through him, his body jerking violently against the restraints, his cries drowned beneath the muffled laughter echoing through the hallway.

In the third room, a woman reclined luxuriously on the bed beside a bound man, her body draped in an opulent emerald fox fur coat that spilled around her like a cloud. Her fingers idly stroked the downy trim of her coat as she watched the screen before them. The man beside her was spread-eagle, wrists and ankles securely bound to the posts of the grand bed. His chest rose and fell rapidly, his muscles flexing in anxious anticipation.

The video displayed a man stretched out on a bed, his arms and legs restrained firmly at each corner. His body was taut, muscles strained under the pressure of the restraints. A woman, dressed in a simple black outfit, hovered over him. She began tickling and skittering her fingers on his sides, then slowly rising up, using her nails to scrape gently at his ribs. The man twisted and struggled, his laughter echoing through the room, though his attempts to break free were futile.

The woman on the bed let out a satisfied hum, drawing Jimmy’s attention back to her. She slipped a hand into a thick, fluffy fur mitten and lazily traced it along the captive man's torso, letting the plush texture tease his skin. Down his ribs, across his stomach, along his sides and lower.

The man’s throbbing cock twitched with every caress of the impossibly soft fur mitten, the fluffy hairs gliding across his skin, sending bolts of pleasure throughout his body. The glove teased his quivering flesh, traveling down towards his most vulnerable spot. The lady took a hold of his aching manhood, the impossibly soft fur enveloping around his cock like a cocoon of fluff. Slowly, she pleasured him with her fur, looking at him with a satisfied smile. Jimmy could tell the man was moaning, the way his head turned back with each fluffy pump. The woman said something, though Jimmy couldn’t tell what it was. The result, however, was that they both turned their gazes to the tickle video before them.

"Is this... conditioning?" Jimmy wondered quietly, his thoughts running wild.

“You’re not supposed to be here…” a feminine voice came from behind, sounding stern and serious

Jimmy’s heart dropped in his chest as he turned around to face the three women he’d seen earlier. The first with a luxurious deep blue fox fur coat, her ginger hair flowing past her shoulders. The second woman’s sleek purple fur coat shimmered in the dim light, draping elegantly over her frame. The third woman was dressed in a soft, silvery grey fur coat, almost ethereal in the way the light danced across it.

Before Jimmy could react, they reached out and grabbed him by the arms, lifting him off the ground with surprising strength. His feet barely touched the floor as they began dragging him down the hall. He tried to pull away, to no avail. There was no escaping what was to come.

“Where are you taking me?” Jimmy yelled out, demanding answers.

“The headmistress might want to… have a word… with you…” one of the women replied, her tone teasing and ominous.

They turned a corner, and there it was: a massive, imposing dark wooden door at the end of the hall. In grand golden lettering it read: “HEADMISTRESS” The women stopped just short of it, and one of them knocked twice.

“Enter,” a commanding voice came from within, sending a chill down Jimmy’s spine.

The door creaked open, revealing a lavish office. Behind a grand, polished desk sat the headmistress—her presence commanding and serene. She wore a luxurious baby blue fox fur coat that flowed gracefully down her figure, the soft fabric shimmering in the light. A matching stole draped elegantly over her shoulders, adding to her regal appearance. Her confidence was palpable, radiating warmth and subtle seduction with every glance, unmistakably Latina. Her dark, rich hair framed her face softly, and when her gaze met Jimmy’s, it felt as though she could see right through him.

“Well, well, well… What do we have here? A little secret agent?” Her voice was teasing, sultry in its motherly tone.

Standing at the back of the room was her assistant, a striking woman of 28. Her ebony skin gleamed in the soft light of the office, her dark hair flowing past her shoulders and her long red nails were painted to perfection. She wore an impossibly enormous golden island fox fur coat that enveloped her form. Her presence was as intimidating as it was alluring, her gaze sharp and watchful as she stood silently by her superior’s side. Her red lips twisted into a smile as she gazed upon Jimmy.

The headmistress glanced at her assistant, nodding as if giving her a signal. With a slow, deliberate motion, the assistant stood and made her way over to Jimmy. As she reached him, she smoothly produced a pair of handcuffs from her belt and secured them around his wrists, her touch firm and controlled. Once she finished, the assistant stepped back, returning to her position beside the desk. She gestured to one of the benches nearby. "Take a seat," she commanded, her voice smooth yet laced with authority.

Jimmy sat down on the bench, the soft cushioning yielding beneath him.

"That will be all, ladies," the headmistress said, her tone both smooth and authoritative as she waved her hand dismissively. The women exchanged glances before quietly exiting the room, leaving Jimmy alone with the headmistress and her assistant.

Turning her gaze back to Jimmy, a warm, almost motherly smile curled across her lips. "I think it's time for introductions, don’t you agree? Tell me, dear, what should I call you?"

“J-Jimmy…” he stammered, his voice faltering as the tension in the room grew heavier. His nerves got the best of him, making the simplest introduction feel like a struggle.

"Well, Jimmy," she purred, her voice smooth and inviting, "It's a pleasure to meet you." She straightened up, her posture regal and elegant. "I am Vivienne De La Cruz," she continued, her voice rich with subtle seduction. "The Headmistress of The Order of The Fox," she gestured to the lady next to her. “And here’s my lovely assistant.”

“I’m Kayla,” the assistant introduced herself. “Pleasure,” Kayla added with a slight, knowing smile, her voice calm and smooth, yet there was a sharpness to it that hinted at her own authority. Her eyes never left Jimmy, studying him with a subtle intensity.

Vivienne sat down in her chair, adjusting her stole slightly. Now eye level with Jimmy, she continued, her tone firmer but still warm. “"I understand you’ve been exploring our little establishment… And, to be honest, I watched you through our cameras the entire time. I must say, your curiosity has led you into quite an interesting situation."

She leaned forward slightly, her presence commanding but inviting, as if drawing him into her web. "Tell me, Jimmy," she purred, "What is it you were hoping to find?"

"I’m a detective," Jimmy began, his voice faltering slightly but holding firm, "and I got a report about women gathering in the alley, strange noises coming through the vents, and men disappearing without a trace. And what do I find? A secret society of women who kidnap men… and torture them with tickling." His words hung heavy in the air. He met her gaze, desperate for an explanation.

Vivienne’s smirk widened, her eyes sparkling with amusement and something far more dangerous. She leaned back in her chair, her fingers gracefully tracing the edge of her desk as she regarded him with an almost affectionate curiosity.

“Would you like to know the origin of our order?” Vivienne inquired, her voice laced with a teasing warmth. Her fingers glided down the luxurious fur of her coat, the soft material yielding under her touch.

“I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me…” Jimmy clapped back, trying to hold his ground despite the tension thickening in the air.

Vivienne’s smile deepened, her eyes never leaving his. She rose from her chair with effortless elegance, each movement slow and deliberate. As she walked behind him, the fur of her coat wiggled softly with her every step. Her stole, large and luxurious, swayed behind her, the soft fur trailing in a seductive rhythm that matched the slow, intoxicating sway of her hips.

“Are you familiar with the island of Peludo?” Vivienne asked, her voice smooth and casual as she slid closer to Jimmy.

“The island in the Caribbean?” he replied, his mind trying to piece it together.

“That’s the one!” Vivienne’s eyes gleamed with a knowing glint. She motioned toward a painting on the wall—a portrait of a regal woman. “This is my ancestor, Theodora De La Cruz. She played a pivotal role in Peludo’s independence from Spain.”

Jimmy’s gaze followed her gesture, eyes landing on the woman in the painting. She was dressed in a baby blue gown, matching feathered hat perched gracefully atop her head, and a luxurious stole draped over her shoulders, exuding authority and elegance.

Vivienne’s voice took on a teasing tone as she leaned closer to him, her lips just inches from his ear. “Do you know what her favorite thing to do with men was, Jimmy?”

“N-no…” Jimmy stammered, unsure where this was headed.

The air between them seemed to thicken as Vivienne’s voice dropped to a soft, almost conspiratorial whisper. “Tickling, darling…” Her fingers, smooth as silk, reached under his chin, lightly stroking his cheek. The sleeve of her luxurious, voluptuous coat brushed against him, the soft fur teasing his skin, sending an unexpected shiver down his spine.

She pulled back just slightly, a knowing smile curling on her lips as she stood upright once more. “She used it to punish criminals, pirates, and anyone who defied her. It was her… specialty.” Vivienne’s voice became more deliberate as she continued, her gaze never leaving his. “And when Theodora’s reign ended, her daughter, Isabela, carried on her legacy. She founded our order.”

She gestured around the room, her eyes gleaming with pride. “Our order was established as a private contractor—a punishment service for those who needed… correction.”

“So, you use tickling?” Jimmy asked, trying to piece together the twisted puzzle. “Then what’s the fur about?”

Vivienne’s lips curled into a joyous smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, darling, we simply adore fur,” she purred, her voice soft and enticing. “The softness, the luxury, the elegance… it’s intoxicating. It gives us a commanding presence, a sense of power. It makes us irresistible.” She circled around him with a slow, deliberate grace. She stopped just in front of him, her eyes never leaving his. “And…” she continued, her voice lowering to a seductive whisper, “we find it to be quite pleasurable, darling…”

Vivienne leaned in, her breath warm against his skin. Her delicate fingers reached for the end of her stole, lifting it with a graceful movement. Slowly, she traced the length of it down his cheek, the luxurious fur sliding over his skin. She then guided it down his neck, the soft hairs brushing against him, before bringing it up the other side of his face. The sensation was tingling, teasing, and intimate, sending a shiver through him.

Jimmy’s eyelids fluttered, then closed slightly as Vivienne brushed the stole across his face. The fur was impossibly warm and soft, comforting, and delicious. It was soothing, almost hypnotic, and for a brief moment, he found himself lost in the luxurious sensation. But as soon as she finished, his senses jolted back into focus, and he shook himself awake, his breath quickening.

Vivienne giggled softly, a playful sound that sent a shiver down his spine. With a slow, teasing motion, she waved the end of her stole in front of his face, her eyes dancing with amusement. “You like that, don’t you?” she cooed.

Jimmy’s focus sharpened, but his voice still held a hint of wonder as he asked, “So you punish criminals?”

Vivienne’s smile grew, her eyes gleaming with something deeper, darker. “Criminals, yes. But not just criminals, Jimmy,” she replied, her voice smooth, almost hypnotic. “Anyone who falls under the judgment of our order.”

Jimmy’s voice was steady, but his curiosity was undeniable. “How does one fall under the judgment of your order?”

“It’s simple, really,” she began, her voice calm, but with an unmistakable edge. “Disrespecting the order, betraying those we’ve been closely associated with. But...” she paused for a moment, her gaze narrowing, as if savoring the weight of her words."There's also the matter of sneaking into our premises without permission.” Her lips curled into a smile that was both enticing and dangerous, the implication of her words hanging in the air like a promise.

Kayla stepped forward, her movements deliberate and precise as she approached Jimmy. With a firm but smooth grip, she helped him off the chair and guided him toward a bed built seamlessly into the floor. The bed itself was a work of art, its surface draped in a luxurious fur sheet that shimmered softly in the dim light, the texture inviting.

Without a word, she tossed him onto the bed with a swift motion, the plush surface giving under his weight. As he tried to adjust, she expertly attached his handcuffs to a hoop on the top edge of the mattress, securing him in place.

Vivienne, watching with a slight, knowing smile, walked toward the bottom of the bed where Kayla was now positioned. With a slow, deliberate motion, she handed Kayla two large, exquisite fur boas, each one soft and opulent, their fur glistening under the light. She knelt beside Jimmy’s legs, each movement smooth and calculated as she carefully threaded the boas through the hoops at the bottom of the mattress.

With quick efficiency, she wrapped the boas around his ankles, tying them securely. The delicate fur brushed against his skin with every twist, the sensation both soft and suffocating in its grip. Kayla gave a satisfied nod as she finished her task, her eyes flickering with amusement. She leaned closer, her lips curling into a teasing smile.

"Don't you look comfortable?" she said, her voice laced with both amusement and a hint of challenge, as she gazed down at him.

"He does, darling..." Vivienne added, her tone smooth and dripping with both satisfaction and a touch of playfulness. She slowly stepped forward, her heels clicking softly on the floor as she approached the bed, her gaze never leaving him.

Kayla’s eyes glinted with mischief as she hovered over Jimmy, her fingers brushing lightly against the fur boas as if savoring the moment. “Do you think he’s ready?” she asked, her voice dropping to a soft, seductive tone.

Vivienne circled Jimmy, her eyes narrowing slightly as she surveyed him, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Oh, he’s ready,” she purred, her gaze lingering on him as if she could feel the tension radiating off him. “He’s been ready the moment he stepped into our world.”

Kayla, silent and efficient, moved swiftly to the task at hand. With a flick of her wrist, she retrieved a pair of scissors, their cold steel reflecting the dim light. She began cutting away his clothes with precision, each snip of fabric echoing in the room, stripping him of his defenses layer by layer until all that was left was his underwear… then nothing.

Jimmy's eyes widened, his breath catching as the chill air met his exposed skin. His lip trembled, unable to control the fear and uncertainty that flooded through him. Although he was beyond scared, his exposed penis twitched slightly at every moment.

Vivienne’s gaze never left Jimmy’s face, her eyes dark and calculating as she took in his every reaction. She moved toward him with a slow, deliberate grace, her fingers trailing along the edge of her fur stole, the texture soft and tantalizing against her skin. “Are you frightened, Jimmy?” she asked, her voice now colder, yet still laced with the same seductive undercurrent. “Or are you excited?”

She stood just next to him now and she kneeled down, just close enough that he could smell the rich scent of her perfume mingling with the soft warmth of her fur. Her hand reached out, grazing his cheek lightly, almost tenderly, as though she were evaluating his reaction. “Or maybe it’s both…” she brushed her fingers beneath his chin, giving it a soft, teasing tickle. Her smile curled at the edges, a knowing, dangerous smile. “So sweet... so cute... so vulnerable.”

“W-w-what are you going to do to me?” Jimmy stammered, his voice trembling with uncertainty.

“Hah, is he so—” Kayla began to mock, but Vivienne silenced her with a look.

“No, no, Kayla…” Vivienne’s voice was smooth, commanding. She gracefully straddled Jimmy, her coat flowing over his lap like an impossibly soft blanket. The fur brushed gently against his knees, teasing his sensitive skin.

She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear as she spoke in slow, deliberate tones. “Allow me to explain... exactly... what we're going to do... to our dear guest here...” With each pause, she moved a fraction closer, her words almost a caress, as if savoring the moment before revealing more.

Vivienne gently caressed his cheek, her touch almost reverent as she leaned in close, her breath warm against his skin. Her eyes never left Jimmy's, deep and unwavering, as the seductive, motherly smile on her lips never faltered. Her voice lowered to a sultry whisper, dripping with honeyed menace:

“We are going to tickle you, darling… tease you until you can’t take it… We will make you laugh, beg, and squirm… We will drive you mad with pleasure beyond your wildest dreams… until the very air you breathe feels like a constant reminder of the soft torment we can bring. You won��t be able to think of anything else but us... but our touch, our tickling, our furs. And each time you think you’ve reached your limit, we’ll push you further, just to watch you shatter... and then pull you back again, only to do it all over again.”

She could see the conflict in his eyes—fear and curiosity warring for dominance. But Vivienne wasn’t done with him. She shifted slightly, her fur brushing against his body as she adjusted herself, and her fingers danced lightly across his chest, not touching him fully, but teasing the edges of his senses.

“I think it’s time we begin, don’t you?” Vivienne said softly, her voice laced with a dangerous calm. She gently cupped his chin, tilting his face toward her.

“I think it is...” Kayla replied, her voice cool and steady as she approached the foot of the bed. She positioned herself, eyes glinting with a quiet hunger, and gently caressed the bottoms of Jimmy’s feet with her palms. The sensation hit Jimmy’s feet like a fist. He couldn’t see anything behind this enormous wall of soft, luxurious, warm, sumptuous fur, called Vivienne.

Jimmy tensed in his restraints, his body reacting instinctively to the pressure. Vivienne’s giggle was soft, like a silk thread teasing the air. She let the tail of her stole glide over his mouth, tracing the sensitive edges of his lips with a tantalizing touch. She leaned in, her presence overwhelming as she cupped the back of his head, pulling him just a little closer. Her lips brushed against his cheek, leaving a warm, lingering kiss before she whispered in his ear, her voice low and seductive,

“It’s tickle time, darling…”

Vivienne’s fingers met Jimmy’s exposed underarms and the moment her nails grazed his skin, a burst of uncontrollable laughter escaped from Jimmy’s lips. He tugged against the restraints, desperately trying to pull away, but Vivienne’s touch was relentless, every stroke a precise, teasing assault on his senses. She smiled, enjoying the way his body reacted to the soft torment, her fingers skimming over his most sensitive spots as she dragged out his helpless laughter.

Kayla stretched out her arms and with deliberate slowness, her red nails gleaming in the soft light as they hovered just above Jimmy’s bare feet. With a teasing grin, she began to gently trace the sensitive surface of his soles, her nails skittering lightly across the arches, the heels, and the soft pads of his feet. His feet jerked and twisted, trying to escape the skittering nails, but he wasn’t going anywhere. The soft fur boas held his ankles firmly and place, and brushed his ankles each time they turned around, adding a sensual sting to the torment.

Jimmy’s laughter was loud, instantaneous and raw. The women’s teasing nails—skittering, tracing, tickling—sent an electric shock through him. It felt as if a surge of tingling electricity was coursing through his body, like being struck by lightning—except this lightning was pure tickle torture, arcing through his every nerve.

“OH GOD, NO! WAIT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Jimmy cried out, as his widened eyes stared into Vivienne’s, her amused expression ever amplifying the feeling of dread deep within his chest. Her smile was warm, loving, almost motherly. A smile only someone with years of experience could wield. In that moment, Jimmy knew this wasn’t just any smile.

It was the smile of a tickler.

“Does it tickle, darling?” she purred, her voice dripping with that same sultry, motherly cadence. She wasn’t asking out of curiosity, but more as a statement, savoring the helplessness she could see in his eyes. Her nails danced lightly over his skin, barely grazing the surface, but enough to make him squirm, his laughter bubbling up uncontrollably. “Kayla’s really wreaking havoc on your poor feet, isn’t she?”

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear, her fingers never stopping their teasing motion. “Tell me, how does it feel to be completely at our mercy? Every inch of your body ticklish, just waiting for us to make you laugh, beg, squirm…”

Her lips brushed against his ear as she whispered the last part, her fingers skimming down to trace circles around his ribs, her nails just sharp enough to send jolts of sensation through his body.

“Does it tickle yet, darling? Or do you want us to keep going?” she added, her voice dripping with amusement, like a predator enjoying the chase.

“He’s a squirmer!” Kayla called out from behind him, her voice filled with amusement as her glimmering nails danced over his soles. The light caught the sharp, polished tips of her fingers as they traced a slow, tantalizing path up to the base of his toes, sending surges of tickle through his body.

“Is he now?” Vivienne responded, her tone warm, yet carrying an unmistakable edge of amusement. She leaned in, so close now that her presence almost enveloped him entirely. The soft edge of her stole traced delicately along his cheek, sending shivers down his spine. Her voice dropped to a low, teasing whisper, “Tell me, darling… Since you squirm so much… Do the boas tickle your ankles?”

They did tickle. Each time his feet twisted, the soft, teasing hairs of the boas brushed against his ankles, tickling in the most teasing way. The sensation was so subtle yet constant that it drove him crazy. He couldn’t escape it. No matter how hard he tried to shift his position, the boas were always there, their gentle caress ever teasing him further.

His ankles weren’t the only part of him being tormented by fur. Every time Jimmy twisted and squirmed, trying to break free from the relentless teasing of his ticklers, his back brushed against the plush fur sheet beneath him, sending ripples of pleasurable shivers up his spine. But the worst of it? His cock, helpless and vulnerable, brushed against Vivienne’s fur coat—again and again. Every. Single. Time.

With each passing second, he could feel himself growing harder, his body betraying him against his will. Every brush of fur, every soft graze, every teasing tickle of luxurious plushness fueled his arousal further, making it impossible to resist. The fur enveloped his lap completely, spreading over him like a suffocating veil of fluffy torment, its delicate softness only intensifying the pressure of his desire.

Vivienne paused, her fingers stilling for just a moment, allowing the silence to hang in the air. She shifted her position slightly, her movements slow and deliberate. As she adjusted, she felt something firm press against her, a sensation that made her smile to herself. She leaned in close, her breath warm against his ear, her voice a soft, teasing whisper.

"Well, well... Are you aroused, darling?" she purred, her tone laced with both amusement and a subtle dominance. She let her fingers graze the edge of his jaw as she awaited his response, her presence overwhelming in its intensity.

Jimmy couldn’t bring himself to answer, roaring laughter occupying his vocal chords. Jimmy’s thoughts were scattered, the sensation overwhelming, his body betraying him with every involuntary twitch.

"Kayla, stop tickling him for a moment," Vivienne commanded, her voice smooth, authoritative.

Kayla immediately complied, her hands retracting from Jimmy’s feet. The sudden absence of sensation left a void that was almost as oppressive as the tickling itself. The room fell into a heavy silence, the only sound being Jimmy’s excessive panting, each breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he struggled to regain control.

Vivienne slowly rose, her posture elegant and poised, taking a moment to stand above him and gaze down at their ticklee. Her eyes lingered on his throbbing arousal, a subtle, amused smile curving her lips. She tilted her head slightly, as if contemplating the sight before her, the air around them thick with tension.

“Now would you look at that, darling…” she cooed, her voice dripping with a teasing amusement. “I wonder, Jimmy, are you enjoying your predicament more than you’d like to admit?” She paused, letting the question hang in the air, her eyes glinting with playful satisfaction.

“Aw, don’t feel too embarrassed. This is the usual reaction, no one escapes it. Not even you.” Vivienne leaned in closer. “The tickling... the furs... it’s all so delicious, isn’t it?” Her words were both a challenge and a caress, a soft command wrapped in desire.

Vivienne kneeled down gracefully, her movements slow and deliberate, as though savoring every moment. Her fingers trailed across his cheek once more, the touch light and tender, as if toying with the contrast between the softness of her caress and the intensity of the situation. Her gaze locked onto his, dark and penetrating, that same smile curling at the corners of her lips.

“Well, we can’t leave it alone, now can we?” she purred, her voice low and hushed, dripping with both challenge and promise. Each word lingered in the air, adding to the heavy tension that had settled between them.

"Do you want to open the cabinet, Vivienne?" Kayla asked, her voice laced with an undercurrent of mischief. A sly smirk danced on her lips, her eyes glinting with anticipation as she watched Vivienne, eager to see what would come next.

"Do you think he’s ready for what’s inside, Kayla?" Vivienne’s voice was teasing with an edge of danger, as she turned her gaze back to Jimmy, her eyes locking onto his with a quiet intensity. She could almost feel his unease, and it delighted her.

Kayla’s grin widened as she leaned in slightly, her voice almost a purr as she responded. “Oh, I do…”

Vivienne stepped toward the large cabinet, her hand hovering over the handle. The room seemed to grow quieter, the air thick with tension. She gave one last look at Jimmy, as if savoring the moment. She gave him a teasing wink, before pulling the cabinet open with a soft creak. Inside, rows of tickling instruments awaited—feathers, dusters, brushes, various tools, each one more devious than the last. The soft glint of metal, the delicate curves of the feathers, the assortment of textures all seemed to beckon with an almost sinister allure.

“I think this will do very nicely…” Vivienne murmured, her voice almost indulgent, as her fingers stretched toward the cabinet. With a predatory smirk playing at the corners of her lips, Vivienne withdrew an enormous feather duster from the cabinet. The downy strands of countless ostrich feathers fluttered slightly in the air as she pulled it free, catching the light with a soft, almost ethereal glow.

The feathers, so soft and delicate, seemed to shimmer as they brushed together, exuding a luxurious, almost hypnotic allure. Vivienne ran her fingertips lightly over the feathers, savoring the texture as if it were a precious object she had just claimed for her own.

She turned her gaze back to Jimmy, locking eyes with him. The terror in his eyes only made the moment sweeter. With a deliberate, teasing motion, she waved the duster through the air, the feathers rippling, as though beckoning the inevitable. “Only the best for our dear guest. Isn’t that right, darling?” she purred, her voice dripping with sweet malice.

“Oh, he’s in trouble now…” Kayla teased, her voice dripping with wicked delight. Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she watched the feather duster glide through the air, sensing the impending chaos. Her lips curled into a slow, knowing smile, as if she could already hear Jimmy’s helpless laughter in her mind.

“Please, no…” Jimmy whimpered, his voice barely above a breath, trembling with a mixture of dread and defeat. “I’m begging you… just… don’t…”

Vivienne stood before Jimmy, the feather duster held delicately in her hand. She tilted her head, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Oh, darling… You really think we’re done with you?" Her gaze drifted to his arousal, and she raised the duster, almost casually, her eyes flickering with amusement. "Look at the state of you… How could we leave you like this? You deserve something more... special, don’t you think?"

Kayla smirked as she slowly lowered herself onto the plush fur beside him, her body pressing into the soft fabric. She stretched out next to Jimmy, cupping her chin with her hand. “You thought you were safe, didn’t you?” she whispered, her voice warm and teasing, but with an undeniable edge. She could feel the tension radiating from him, the way his chest rose and fell with every shallow breath.

Vivienne kneeled between Jimmy’s feet, her hand gripping the feather duster, poised in the air with deadly precision. She angled the feathers towards his cock, her movements slow and deliberate, twitching the duster. With a teasing slowness, she inched the duster closer to him, each twitch and flutter of the feathers a calculated tease. Jimmy’s eyes widened, his chest rising and falling in shallow, rapid breaths as he locked his gaze on the duster. Each inch of progress the feathers made sent panic coursing through his veins.

“The tickle is coming, darling,” Vivienne purred, her voice dripping with slow, deliberate intent. “Can you feel it? Just wait until it touches you.”

Jimmy’s body tensed, his breath hitching as he instinctively twisted, trying to move away from the impending sensation. But the feathers were getting closer, and he could do nothing but watch in horrified fascination as they drifted nearer.

Without warning, Kayla’s fingers pressed into his sides, exploring with a teasing vigor. The ticklish intensity ramped up by the second, forcing laughter to bubble within him. She watched with satisfaction as his body jerked, his muscles tensing in reflex.

“You’re not going to escape, sweetheart,” she said, her voice almost a coo, as her fingers danced over his skin, moving down toward his waist. “Just let it happen… Trust me, it’ll only get worse from here.”

Vivienne’s feather duster finally came into contact with his body, brushing across his balls just lightly enough to send a shiver of ticklish sensation through his body. It was soft, tantalizing, but it was enough to break him. The duster fluttered across his groin, teasing, as the feathers elicited pleasure mixed with agonizing tickling rippling through him.

“There’s no running, darling," Vivienne said, her voice dark and satisfying, knowing she had him exactly where she wanted him.

Jimmy’s laughter soared to a new, desperate crescendo, the sound almost painful as Kayla’s nails worked their way mercilessly over his sides. The duster fluttered endlessly about his groin, each teasing movement deepening the agony of his situation.

Jimmy's mind raced back to the beginning of the evening, to Janine—oh, Janine. How he wished, in that moment, that she were here to pull him from this madness, to offer him a semblance of comfort. Her gentle touch, her soothing voice, her warmth—nothing in his current reality could compare. If only she knew what he was enduring now, how desperately he longed for her presence to rescue him from the unrelenting tickle torment.

But Janine wasn't here. She couldn't save him now. Only his ticklers, Vivienne and Kayla, held the power over him. And their tickling was nothing like the brush of Janine’s scarf tassel. His body trembled, caught between the fleeting thought of her and the cruel reality of his situation. Each breath he took seemed to draw in more of the soft, teasing air around him, the ticklish feathers still fluttering along his manhood like an endless reminder of what he couldn't escape.

Kayla’s fingers brushed over his ribs, birthing a new wave of ticklish heat through him. The reality of it—of being trapped between pleasure and agony—dawned on him again. Janine's absence had never felt more suffocating.

“That’s it, darling… Laugh for us… Let us tickle you…” Vivienne's voice was soft, but it held an undeniable command, a coaxing that was as irresistible as it was cruel. The feathers traced a slow path around his balls, then up and down his shaft and around his ticklish cock head. The touch was light and pleasurable, yet it sent waves of uncontrollable laughter through him.

Kayla's voice dropped to a soft, almost seductive whisper. "Don't resist, darling... you can't. It tickles, doesn’t it? Every touch, every stroke... It's too much. You can’t run, you can’t hide. You can’t escape the tickle, so just surrender to it... Let go and laugh."

Jimmy’s body trembled, unable to stop the inevitable as his laughter erupted uncontrollably. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STOP IT! I CAN’T! I’M GOING MAD!”

Kayla smirked, her fingers still teasing his sides. “He’s ours, Vivienne. Completely and utterly.” She leaned closer, her breath hot against Jimmy’s ear. “And you won’t be free until we say so…”

Jimmy’s body spasmed, his mind racing with a mix of frustration, embarrassment, and the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. His mind was a blur—everything was a blur but the tickling, the constant, unrelenting tickling.

Droplets of precum dripped steadily from his straining manhood as Vivienne’s feather duster glided over him, the soft, teasing feathers brushing against his most sensitive areas. They engulfed and fluttered about his testicles with maddening precision, sending waves of ticklish pleasure and torment through his entire body. The sensations were unbearable, driving him toward the brink of insanity.

Just as Jimmy felt himself teetering on the edge of surrender, his body trembling with the unbearable ticklish sensations, Vivienne abruptly withdrew the feather duster, her eyes gleaming with quiet satisfaction. With a subtle motion, she signaled Kayla to pause, the sudden stillness almost as oppressive as the tickling itself. Jimmy’s gasps filled the air, his body yearning for release, caught in a whirlwind of sensations that had no outlet.

Vivienne leaned back, setting the duster down by Jimmy’s feet. “Kayla, I think he deserves a little break. After all, we wouldn’t want to break our darling, would we?” She glanced at Jimmy with a slow, calculating smile, savoring the sight of his strained expression. “Just a moment to catch his breath, before we dive back into the fun.”

Kayla chuckled softly, her fingers still hovering near Jimmy’s sensitive spots. “You’re right,” she agreed, her voice tinged with a teasing sweetness. She slowly withdrew her hands, but her gaze lingered on Jimmy, her smirk widening as she imagined the next round.

Vivienne reached over, her fingers brushing the rim of a glass of water that had been placed on the nearby table. She picked it up delicately, holding it in front of Jimmy, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and control. “We might be cruel, darling,” she purred, her voice smooth and steady, “but we’re not inhumane.”

She brought the glass to his lips, the cool water almost a contrast to the heat of the moment. “Go ahead, drink,” she coaxed, watching him closely. “You’ll need your strength for what’s coming next.”

Jimmy’s breath hitched as he whimpered, his voice a desperate plea, “Please… Let me cum…”

Vivienne smiled softly as she gently set the glass of water aside. She leaned in closer, the weight of her presence palpable as she slowly slid her fingers over his chest, tracing the lines of his body with deliberate slowness. "All in due time, darling," she murmured, her voice low and smooth, teasing his every sense.

Kayla, never one to be idle, reached for the feather duster on the floor, her fingers gripping the handle with practiced ease. She spun the duster in her hand, the soft feathers shimmering as they beckoned for their next victim.

Vivienne’s voice broke the silence, dripping with expectation. “Now, Kayla,” she purred, her gaze never leaving Jimmy. “I think it’s time for my favorite tease.”

Kayla’s eyes sparkled with mischievous delight. “Ooh, do you mean that?” she asked, her tone playful but edged with excitement.

“Yes…” she whispered, her voice thick with anticipation.

Vivienne’s smile deepened, her eyes dark with amusement as she gracefully positioned herself above Jimmy, straddling him, facing his legs. The soft fabric of her coat brushed against his face, blinding him to everything but her presence. The weight of her body, just a breath away, teased his senses with its proximity, making it impossible for him to escape the magnetic pull of her control.

Vivienne carefully lifted her fur stole from her shoulders, the luxurious hairs flowing through her fingers as she carefully took hold of it. She then guided the soft, large stole down to Jimmy’s most sensitive spot, wrapping it gently around his cock.

The soft fur coiled around his length, bringing a blend of warmth and pleasure. The stole, once a mere accessory, now became an instrument of pleasure. The delicate fur caressed his sex, each strand brushing him with a tender but pleasurable teasing.

Jimmy’s world narrowed to the sensations pulsing through his body, his sight stolen by the soft fur covering his face, but every inch of his skin burned with awareness of the stole’s warmth. All he could feel was the intimate touch of the stole, its velvety hairs and strands surrounding his manhood, its teasing caress amplifying his desire.

"Enjoy, darling..." Vivienne said, her voice thick with teasing satisfaction. Slowly, she stroked the fur stole up and down his cock, the soft, plush fur gliding over his sensitive skin. Each pump was slow, tantalizing, the fur brushing against him in a maddening rhythm that pleasured him beyond human imagination.

Kayla, ever ready for some fun, began to circle him, her movements slow and rhythmic. With the feather duster in hand, she fluttered it gently over his body, teasing every inch of his exposed skin. The ticklish feathers brushed against his chest, his arms, his sides. The countless strands of the feathers glided along his quivering skin, leaving a tingly whisper of tickle in their wake.

She traced his form with the duster, letting the feathers linger over his sensitive spots before moving away, only to return again. The combination of Vivienne’s pleasuring, teasing, strokes with her stole and Kayla’s tickling with the duster overwhelmed Jimmy, leaving him gasping for breath, his mind swimming in a sea of sensation.

Vivienne’s voice was a low, teasing purr as she stroked the stole up and down his length. "How does that feel, darling?" she asked, her tone dripping with satisfaction. "The soft fur, my big stole running along your cock, the hairs tickling along your length… It feels so good, doesn’t it?."

Kayla, circling him with the feather duster, added with a wicked smirk, "You can't escape this, Jimmy. Every inch of you is ours to tease, to tickle. Every touch, every ticklish flutter—it all drives you wild, doesn't it?"

Vivienne spoke in a tone dripping with authority, "And the reality of it is, darling," she murmured, her fingers stroking the luxurious fur stole along his sensitive cock, "we will keep tickling you..."

Jimmy's mind raced with a surge of regret, each moment feeling like a deeper trap he couldn't escape. “Why did I ever take this case?” The thought echoed through his mind, but the tickling, the soft fur, and their teasing words drowned out any sense of clarity. There was no turning back now. His body betrayed him as laughter and moans of fluffy pleasure spilled uncontrollably from his lips.

Jimmy twisted under Vivienne’s coat, the fur not only tickling his cock, but also his face, each soft strand grazing his skin like a thousand tiny, teasing fingers. His breath hitched, the mixture of sensations too overwhelming to process — the warmth, the tickling, the sheer helplessness of it all. Every movement caused the fur to shift, brushing against him in maddening waves. His body writhed in response, yet it only caused the fur to caress his skin ever further.

Jimmy felt himself nearing the edge of release, the delicate torment of the fur against his skin mixing with the teasing tickling sensations. His body trembled, a wave of heat flooding through him, yet the pressure was relentless. The feathers brushed, fluttering against his sides and underarms, while the stole’s soft warmth tickled along his most sensitive areas. His mind raced with desperate thoughts, torn between the want for release and the desperate, maddening need to escape the ceaseless tickling.

His breath became shallow, his hips instinctively bucking as he teetered on the precipice of bliss. Just as his body tensed in preparation to give in to the surge of orgasm, Vivienne's fingers grazed his length one last time, unwrapping the stole from around his cock with maddening slowness. The sudden, shocking absence of sensation sent a jolt through his system, intensifying the ache between his legs as his orgasm was cruelly denied as she gently wrapped the enormous stole around her shoulder once more.

."Not yet, darling," Vivienne purred, her voice smooth with satisfaction as she watched him writhe, her fingers still tracing the edge of his skin with gentle but purposeful touches.

“AAAAH, FUCK YOU!” Jimmy yelled, the frustration in his voice escalating. His body was on the brink, yet Vivienne had denied him once again, leaving him trembling with need.

Vivienne's smile faltered for a moment, her eyes narrowing as her expression shifted to one of mild disapproval. “That’s not very nice, darling…” she replied, her voice cool and even, now tinged with a subtle warning.

Before Jimmy could react, Vivienne and Kayla launched their next move in unison. Vivienne moved swiftly, her fingers finding their way to his sides, skittering up and down with unprecedented speed. Kayla dropped to her knees beside him, her fingers working their way along his legs and thighs. She traced the soft skin just above his knees, her nails gently scraping over the sensitive flesh, then moving to the inner thighs where the sensations were more intense. Every caress made him twitch uncontrollably, his body betraying him as it responded to the teasing touch.

"How’s that for a response?" Kayla teased, her voice dripping with mock sweetness as she teased his legs.

“Not so tough now, are we, darling?” Vivienne cooed, her fingers still fluttering over his sides. Her smile had returned, wicked and motherly, like a predatory cat toying with its prey.

“NO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Jimmy's laughter spilled out uncontrollably, his body writhing as he could do nothing but endure their tickle attack.

As their nails skittered and explored his ticklish form, the soft sleeves of their fur coats brushed along every path they tickled, adding another layer of torment. The plush fur, warm and silky, grazed his skin in time with their teasing movements, contrasting starkly to the unbearable tickling of their long, scribbling nails.

“Poor darling,” Vivienne purred, her voice laced with sultry tease. “So sensitive, so ticklish, so turned on…” Her fingers danced along his ribs, skittering up, down, across and around as she watched him squirm beneath her touch. “You can't even hide it, can you?”

"OH GOD, HELP ME!" Jimmy gasped, his body trembling beneath their relentless touch.

"The only deity here is me, darling..." Vivienne’s voice dripped with satisfaction. "I'm your goddess of tickle torment," she purred, her words lingering in the air like a spell. She leaned in close, her breath warm against his ear. "No prayers, no pleas, no escape. Just your laughter..."

“I’M SO SORRY! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE LET ME CUM! HAHAHAHAHA! GIVE ME FUR, PLEASE! I NEED IT! I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE!” Jimmy’s voice was frantic, cracking between helpless laughter and pleading desperation. His body twisted beneath them, his nerves set ablaze by the relentless tickling.

Vivienne chuckled, her smile deepening as she trailed her sharp, long nails around and inside his exposed armpits with agonizing delicacy. "Oh, darling... you’re so adorable," she mused, tilting her head as if considering his plea. "Begging for fur now, are we? How precious." Vivienne leaned in, her breath tickling against his ear, her voice ever so sultry and arousing “Oh, we’ll give you fur, alright…”

With a wicked smile of understanding, Kayla sauntered toward the cabinet, her hips swaying in amusement at his predicament. She reached inside with a seductive slowness, letting Jimmy hear the rustling inside before she finally withdrew a pair of fur mittens, their thick, soft, pink fur practically glistening in the light. They were plush, fluffy, utterly decadent.

Kayla smirked, flexing her hands within the thick fur mittens, letting the soft, dense fluff shift against her palms. The luxurious pink fur covered the entire surface, rendering her fingers unseen, transforming her hands into instruments of pure, inescapable torment.

Kayla smirked as she pulled the thick, fluffy mittens over her hands, the plush pink fur swallowing her fingers completely. She flexed her hands inside the soft confines, testing their movement, knowing full well that Jimmy had no idea just how maddeningly delicate the sensation was about to be.

“You asked for fur, sweetheart,” she purred, rubbing the mittens together, the fibers brushing against each other in a teasing display. “Let’s see if you can handle it.”

With teasing, drawn out strokes, she caressed the mittens over his trembling thighs. The soft fur tickled his skin, eliciting tingles of pleasure that found their way to his groin. Kayla grazed the mittens over his skin with practiced gentleness, sweeping them up and down his inner thighs, along his waist, circling his hips, everywhere except where he needed it the most.. The sensation was intensely pleasurable, leaving Jimmy aching with every soft caress.

Vivienne's fingers danced lightly up his arms, stopping to spider her nails in the hollows of his elbows. Jimmy’s arms shuddered and twisted in response, quivering with each delicate tickle. Her nails traced up his arms again, stopping at his wrists and trickling ever so slowly down back towards his armpits. She teased her way over his armpits, her nails paving their way down his sides, then up once more.

She leaned in closer, her breath hot against his ear as she whispered with a low, maternal tone, "Tickle, tickle, darling..." The lightness of her touch combined with the intimate proximity made it impossible for him to escape the sensation. “You can’t hide from me,” she cooed, her voice barely a breath, but it was enough to send him into a state of fluster and submission.

The maddening tickle talk drilled into his psyche, each word echoing through his consciousness like a spell, binding him to the tingling torment. Vivienne’s nails pitter pattered across his skin with masterful grazes, her touch teasing and unrelenting. She knew exactly how to keep him torture his very being, how to overwhelm him, how to tease him inside and out, how to tickle his soul.

"Tickle, tickle..." she repeated, each syllable dripping with satisfaction, as though savoring every moment of his surrender. The sensation of her touch, so soft yet so excruciating, ignited every nerve in his body, turning every inch of him into pure, tingling sensitivity.

Jimmy felt himself slipping, his mind teetering on the edge of insanity. The cruel cadence of Vivienne's tickling nails dragged him deeper into madness, while Kayla’s relentless teasing with the soft fur mittens added a new layer of torment, plunging him further into a delirious state. The torment was so complete, so all-consuming, that he no longer knew where the tickling ended and his own sanity began.

Their maddening whispers and teasing gnawed at the walls of his very essence:

“Coochie, coochie, coo, darling…” They whispered.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle…” They teased.

The words, soft and sweet, contradicted the hellish sensations. His body twisted, desperate to escape, but there was no refuge. Their teases conquered his thoughts, he couldn’t function, think or reason. He was theirs entirely. His very existence was now:

Tickle.

Tickle

Tickle.

“Let it tickle, darling…” Vivienne urged, her gaze warm and motherly, her voice dripping with seductive authority. “Stop trying to make sense of it all, baby… There’s no way out… No escape… Only us… Only you…” Her lips brushed against his ear.

“Only tickling…”

Jimmy’s chest heaved, breath coming in short, shallow gasps, but no matter how hard he tried to breathe, the laughter kept slipping from him, escaping in uncontrollable surges. The tickling was everywhere, inescapable, entire. Every touch, every whisper drove him deeper into the abyss of helplessness.

His laughter filled the office, neverending, never relenting. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!”

Kayla hovered her mittens over his thighs, the soft fur brushing against his sensitive skin before plunging into a new spot, tracing delicate lines along the inside of his legs. The sensation of the mittens was soft yet maddening, the countless fluffy strands of fur grazing his skin with a teasing, gentle pressure, sending shivers up his legs and directly to his aroused manhood. Each light touch felt like a million tiny feathers, each one igniting a wave of tingling pleasure that spiraled into unbearable frustration. It wasn’t enough to satisfy, only so that the pleasure blended seamlessly with the maddening tickle.

Kayla smirked as she watched him writhe beneath her massive fur mittens. "How does it feel, darling?" she purred, her voice dripping with sultry sweetness. "The soft, fluffy fur... Do you like the way it feels? Does it turn you on? Does it, ever so gently… tickle?"

Vivienne’s voice cut through the air like a velvet whip. “You thought you could resist, didn’t you?” she whispered, “But here you are, trapped, helpless. The sweet tickling, the fluffy, fluffy fur, the torment... it's all a part of your punishment.” She let the words sink in, reminding Jimmy what got him into this ticklish predicament.

Vivienne and Kayla paused, watching his frantic gasps for air. They exchanged a brief glance, their cruel smiles lingering but softening just for a moment. They didn’t want him to break entirely, not yet. They weren’t here to kill him—only to push him, test his limits.

“We’ll give you a moment, darling,” Vivienne said, her voice calm, almost soothing in the midst of his gasps. She leaned back slightly, giving him a brief respite. "We don’t want you to have a heart attack. Not yet, at least."

"You’re evil," Jimmy whimpered, his voice raw and strained. His crotch throbbed in frustrated arousal, desperate and throbbing from the tension of their teasing, but still far from relief.

Vivienne’s smile deepened, her eyes glinting with maternal amusement. “Aww, darling, I know…” she purred, her voice oozing satisfaction. “But you broke into our sanctum, didn’t you? Defied our Order... And now you’ll pay the price.” She leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear, the teasing edge never leaving her tone. "We can’t leave you un-tickled, darling. That’s simply not how we operate."

“I’m so sorry…” Jimmy cried a tear running down his face.

“Oh, I believe you, darling…” Vivienne cooed softly, her voice smooth and reassuring as she reached out to caress his cheek gently, wiping away the tear with the tip of her finger. “But apologies don’t absolve you, sweetheart. You’ve still got to learn your lesson.”

Her fingers traced down his jawline, lingering with teasing slowness, before she leaned in closer, her breath a whisper against his ear. “And you know, darling, lessons in our sanctum are never quick or easy. They require patience... and lots and lots of tickling.”

Vivienne's eyes flickered down to Jimmy’s body, a knowing smile curling at the corners of her lips as she observed his red, throbbing sex. She leaned closer, her voice low, playful, and laced

Vivienne picked up the end of her voluptuous baby blue fox fur stole once again, stroking it down Jimmy’s cheek with a tease only a true seductress could mimic. The soft fur brushed against his skin, leaving a trail of shivers. "You know, darling," she purred, “It’s one thing to be tickled by fur. But this..." She gently twirled the stole around his chest, the soft, plush hairs caressing against his skin. "This is a whole new level, isn’t it?”

Her fingers slid from his chest, up his neck onto his lips, brushing them lightly with the tip of the stole. "Tell me, sweetheart... Do you enjoy this?" she asked softly, her tone daring him to admit what was so painfully obvious to her. "Tell me the truth... Do you secretly have a little fetish for fur?" Her lips curled into a teasing grin as she watched his every reaction, waiting for his answer.

“I used to watch agent and detective films as a kid, and…” Jimmy began, his voice shaky but hesitant. He couldn’t help but look at her, the softness of the fur against cheek only deepening the heat between them.

Vivienne’s eyes darkened with intrigue as she leaned in closer, pressing the fur gently against his chin, encouraging him to continue. "Go on, darling..." she coaxed, her voice low and silky, "I’m listening. What was it about those films that caught your attention?"

Jimmy swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. “There were always these women... women in fur coats, fur stoles, fur everything. And they looked so… elegant, seductive. I used to fantasize about them. They were... they were beautiful, and I couldn’t look away.” His words faltered, his heart racing, knowing how exposed he felt now. “It always fascinated me. I wanted to caress the fur, feel it against my skin. I wanted to be seduced by them…”

“Is that so, darling?” she purred, her voice laced with satisfaction. "You wanted to be touched, wanted to be seduced, just like the men in the films?” She trailed the fur along his chest again, “You fantasized about powerful women, draped in fur, controlling you, making you helpless under their touch. You dreamed of the softness, the warmth of it, and the way it made you feel…”

Jimmy nodded, his face turning a deep shade of crimson. His body trembled slightly, the weight of her words sinking in deeper.

Vivienne tilted her head, her smile spreading wider across her face, warm yet wickedly motherly. She adjusted the soft, luxurious fur stole back over her shoulders and caressed his chest gently with her palm. "Tell me, darling…" she purred, her voice sweet with a hint of curiosity, "who used to tickle you when you were younger?"

He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. "My mom… and her friends..."

Vivienne’s smile deepened, a knowing glimmer flashing in her eyes. “It’s always someone, isn’t it?” she giggled softly, the sound almost playful, but tinged with something more predatory. "The ones who leave lasting impressions, the ones who make us feel things we can't forget.”

Jimmy felt his chest caving in, the weight of her words pressing on him. The vulnerability he had buried for so long felt like it was being exposed to her without mercy.

Vivienne's voice remained soft, almost coaxing, as she continued, “Would you tell me… how they used to tickle you, sweetie?”

Jimmy swallowed, his voice shaking, as if confessing a long-forgotten sin. “My mom… she used to tickle me with a feather duster…” His words faltered, and he looked down, unable to meet her gaze. “She’d always do it when I didn’t clean up after myself, when she’d find dust in the house... or sometimes when I didn’t study enough.”

Vivienne leaned closer, her breath hot against his ear, almost tasting his words. “And her friends, darling? What about them?”

Jimmy let out a shaky breath, “My mom’s friends… they’d gang up on me when I was being silly or naughty. They’d laugh and tickle me, all of them. It… it always felt like too much, but I couldn’t escape.”

“Was that your punishment, darling?” Vivienne purred, her voice so gentle, yet so commanding. “What else was done to you, sweetie?”

His voice cracking, Jimmy added. “And when I cheated on an exam… my mom… she punished me… with tickling. She said it was the only way to make sure I’d learn my lesson.”

“I see…” Vivienne purred, her voice almost a whisper, yet it held a powerful, maternal quality. “Thank you for being honest with me, darling…”

Vivienne’s touch lingered on Jimmy’s chest, her fingers tracing slow, purposeful patterns. The memory of his mother’s punishment mixed with the warmth of her hand, stirring a feeling he didn’t quite understand, yet couldn’t escape.

Vivienne leaned in closer, her fingers trailing lightly over his skin as she spoke, her voice soft but laden with intent. "Then I must be honest as well," she whispered, her lips curling into a wicked smile. "We're going to continue tickling you soon, sweetheart... and when we do..."

She paused, savoring the moment as she let the words linger in the air. Her gaze never left his, unblinking and sure.

"...We want you to laugh as hard as you can, darling." Her voice softened as she let the weight of her words settle. "Let it all go, let us hear it, every single breathless, desperate cackle."

Just as the tension between them hung thick in the air, Kayla stepped forward, holding an ornate basket in her hands. She kneeled down gracefully beside Jimmy, her gaze never wavering from him as she silently observed his state.

Vivienne, still with that wicked smile curling on her lips, took the basket from Kayla’s hands. With a slow, deliberate motion, she sat down between Jimmy’s legs, her eyes glinting with a mixture of anticipation and power. "Now, sweetie.." she purred, leaning in close, "are you ready for the next round?"

Before he could respond, Kayla’s fingers, nimble and quick, struck his quivering stomach. The touch was as if by lightning, causing a sharp shudder to ripple through him. Jimmy’s laughter was instantaneous, erupting out of his lips like a tsunami of mirth.

Vivienne, meanwhile, reached into the basket and withdrew a large, soft fan makeup brush. Its rose gold handle glowed in the gentle lighting, its bristles of a cream color at the base and darker at the edges. The bristles were light and delicate, designed to caress rather than poke.

Vivienne’s fingers lingered for a moment before she placed her left hand gently behind his cock, supporting and holding it. Slowly, she ran the brush from the base of his manhood all the way to the tip, her touch light and gentle, tickling just as much as pleasuring him.

"Do you like my brush, darling?" Vivienne purred, twirling the delicate bristles around his cock head. "I had it custom made, you know... extra soft, just for tickling." Her voice was honeyed, dripping with satisfaction as she trailed the delicate tip along his most sensitive flesh.

Jimmy's laughter cracked into loud moans of pleasure, his body betraying him as his hips jolted and twisted, desperately trying—and failing—to escape the unbearably pleasurable tickle.

Kayla smirked, watching the way he writhed. "Judging by the way he bucks, I'd say he likes the brush very much…" Her tone was laced with amusement, delighting in his helplessness.

Jimmy gasped between his helpless laughter, his body trapped between the cruel scribbling of Kayla’s nails and the unbearable ticklish bliss of Vivienne’s brush. “NOHOHOHO! HAHAHAHAHA! PLEASE!” His voice cracked, desperation thick in his tone, but neither woman showed mercy.

Vivienne twirled the soft brush down his ticklish member, letting the delicate touch dance over every inch of his quivering form. "But we’re having so much fun with our little fur tickle boy," she cooed, her voice dripping with motherly warmth, as if she were speaking to a darling child rather than a broken, laughing man. She tilted her head, brushing the fan across his aching flesh with agonizing slowness.

“Are you our fur tickle boy, sweetheart?” she asked, her tone so sweet, so loving—yet tinged with undeniable dominance. “You can tell me… I already know the answer.”

“NOOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!” Jimmy wailed, shaking his head furiously, though his body betrayed him—every twitch, every desperate jolt only making it clearer how much he was affected.

Vivienne giggled, shaking her head as she traced the brush between his ticklish balls with agonizing patience. “Oh, I think you’re lying, darling,” she mused, her voice dripping with honeyed amusement. “How about we give you a little punishment like your mom’s friends used to when you were being so silly?” She lowered her voice, making sure the weight of her words sank in. “How did they punish you again, hmm? Was it the tickling that made you learn your lesson?"

As Kayla's fingers found his sides, she scribbled her nails over them with relentless force, her touch sharp and unforgiving. Jimmy’s body bolted at the sudden intensity, his laughter immediately erupting, louder and more frantic than before. Each scrape of her nails against his sensitive skin felt like an electric jolt, amplifying the unbearable pressure building inside him.

Vivienne watched, a wicked smile curling on her lips as she continued to taunt him. “That’s it, sweetheart,” she whispered, her tone soft and maternal. “We’re just helping you remember, aren’t we? Helping you remember what happens when you’re naughty.”

With each stroke of the brush, Jimmy felt himself nearing the edge, his breath ragged and uneven, the tickling sensations overwhelming him from all directions.

Vivienne’s gaze deepened, as she tickled his quivering cock up and down with her ungodly ticklish brush. “Say it with me now, darling,” she coaxed, her voice taking on a playful, commanding tone. “I’m your fur tickle boy.”

“I’M YOHOHOHOHOUR FUHUHUHUR TIHIHIHIHICKLE BOY…” Jimmy struggled through his laughter, his face flushed with a mix of frustration and arousal.

Vivienne’s smile widened in satisfaction, but she wasn’t finished. “Good boy,” she murmured, her voice dripping with approval. “Now, say it again. Tell me you like it when nice fur aunties seduce you, when they tease you.”

“IIIII LIHIHIHIKE WHEN NICE FUR AAAAAAUNTIIIIIES SEHEDUUUUUCCE MEEE…” Jimmy’s voice cracked, caught between laughter and the unbearable need to speak his truth.

Vivienne paused for a moment, her eyes gleaming with triumph as she watched him squirm. “Good boy, sweetheart…” she murmured, her brush lightly tickling his frenulum. “Now, tell me… do you like when we tickle you and make you laugh?”

“IHIHIHI LIHIHIKE WHEN YOU TIHIHIHICKLE MEEE AND MAHAHAHAKE MEEE LAUGH…” Jimmy gasped, his entire body trembling as Vivienne’s brush and Kayla’s nails pushed him to the brink.

“Well, tickle, tickle, then, darling…”

As the last swipe of Vivienne’s brush left its soft, lingering tickle, Jimmy’s arousal erupted in an impressive display, hot cum spewing out of his tortured, tickled penis. He jolted up in his restraints, his back lifted from the soft fur sheet beneath him. His yell of pleasure echoed off the walls of Vivienne’s office.

The tickling, the teasing, the fur, the pleasure… It all was for this moment. Jimmy’s entire nervous system was tingling like never before, every crevice of his body pulsing with euphoria. As the last pulse of that overwhelming sensation surged through him, he panted heavily, his chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. His body was trembling, drenched in sweat, every muscle aching from the release of tension and the maddening need for more.

Vivienne stood up slowly, her movements graceful and calm, the intensity of the moment giving way to a softer, more nurturing energy. She walked over to Jimmy with a gentle, reassuring smile on her face. Her steps were slow, but there was no hurry—she was in no rush. She was content to see him there, vulnerable and open, as the tickling had given way to a deeper connection.

When she reached him, she placed her hand on his cheek, the warmth of her palm bringing him a sense of comfort. Her fingers caressed his skin softly, as though reminding him that the intensity was over.

“There, there, darling…” she cooed softly, her voice pure and motherly. “You did so well. I’m so proud of you.”

Her touch was gentle, like a mother calming a child after a difficult moment. She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and placed a soft kiss there. "You’re okay, sweetheart," she whispered, her voice full of warmth and reassurance.

“You’re so brave, darling,” she murmured, her voice soothing. “You handled everything so well.” She lingered close, the soft scent of her fur adding a comforting touch to the quiet atmosphere around them.

But then, the soft, almost imperceptible sound of a knock at the door broke the silence.

The soft, almost imperceptible sound of a knock at the door pierced the quiet that had settled in the room, drawing all attention to the threshold. The door creaked open with a slow, deliberate motion, and in stepped the woman in the golden island fox fur poncho—the same one Jimmy had seen teaching in the classroom earlier. But she wasn’t alone.

A procession of women followed her, each draped in luxurious fur coats and stoles that seemed to ripple and shimmer as they moved. The air shifted, thick with their presence, their steps carrying an undeniable menace as they filled the room. The sight was overwhelming, like a tidal wave of power and elegance, each woman’s gaze sweeping over Jimmy with a mix of curiosity and purpose.

They stroked down their coats and stoles with delicate, almost sensual movements, savoring the moment, their eyes never leaving Jimmy’s form. The room felt charged, heavy with the promise of what was to come.

Vivienne’s smile deepened, but this time there was something more—something far more dominant in the way she held herself. She turned her gaze from the women to Jimmy, her voice soft yet laced with a knowing edge. “Looks like our fun isn’t over quite yet,” she purred, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. “You’re just on time, darling.”

The woman in the golden fox fur poncho stepped forward, a gleam of excitement in her eyes as she surveyed the scene. “Perfect. We couldn’t miss this opportunity. Ladies, form groups of four,” she instructed, her voice carrying across the room with the weight of someone used to giving orders.

Jimmy’s eyes widened.

“Each group gets one hour.”

#tickle content #tickletorture #women in fur #f/m tickling #fox fur #fur stole #tickle tickle #tickling #fur #fur coat

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rullakebu · 6 months ago

Text

The Fiendish Furrier (FF/M, tickling, fur fetish)

There was a knock at the door, a gentle repeating thump, alerting Denis Marsalis, the olive skinned, curly haired, lean rookie model. Dressed in a black sweater and black jeans, he averted his gaze from his phone as he turned to the door of the lounge he had come in to unwind, lying on the plush sectioned couch. Denis checked the clock on his phone. He had been scrolling mindlessly for an hour and a half, another dull day in the agency.

There was a soft spoken female voice coming from behind the plain office style door: “Denis, may I come in? I have a new job for you! This’ll be so good for your portfolio! You gotta hear this!” It was his agent, Simone. Simone had been appointed as his personal agent when Denis started his career, informing him of modeling gig opportunities and other points of interest relevant to his future as a model.

“Yeah, come in!” Denis permitted, wishing to hear what Simone had got for him this time. Denis had done only small time gigs until then and a few cameos in small movies as an extra background character, usually playing a hunk of some sort. If this was as big as Simone said, he would seize the opportunity in a heartbeat.

The door opened and in came Simone, dressed in a gray suit and a clipboard in hand. The ebony agent’s dark hair was tied back in a ponytail and glasses adorned her face as her eyes scanned the board. “You know Bianca Nyberg? Please tell me you know Bianca Nyberg,” Simone queried, visibly excited in saying the name out loud to Denis.

“The furrier Bianca Nyberg? Yeah, I’ve heard of her. The word is that she has a borderline monopoly over the fur market in this city. She makes bank in the colder months. What about her?” Denis replied, waiting for Simone to elaborate a little. Clearly she knew more than him.

“That’s the one. If you see anyone wearing fur in this city, there's a 99.9% likelihood it’s one of her pieces. But that’s not entirely it, though. She’s extremely esteemed in international fashion circles. She’s releasing new clothes soon and needs someone with your description to wear them for marketing as well as her webstore. You know what that means? People will see you… and your bookings will explode! Maybe you’ll finally end up in the big leagues!” Simone claimed, raising her voice in glee.

“Oh damn! When? And does she want me to wear something in advance?” Denis asked, sitting up from his laid back position.

“Tonight. We’ll book you a ride right now. What you’re wearing now will do,” she replied, pulling out her phone from her pocket. “And don’t do anything stupid. Try to stay on her good side.”

“Okay okay. Will you be coming with me? To oversee the process?” Denis questioned, just making sure.

“Unfortunately no. You’ll have to go by yourself. Don’t worry about it, you’ll do fine by yourself. I’ll call now. The driver will be waiting outside for you,” Simone said, turning away. “Hello? This is Simone from the agency. I’d like to book a ride. Yes, the premium.”

Denis swiftly rose up from the sofa he had lazily been lying on all this time, walking to the coat rack. He picked up his orange puffer jacket, putting it on at record speed and making his way through the door. He speedwalked through the corridors of the agency, en route to the huge main lobby of the agency.

Soon he was at the main lobby, greeted by the soothing sound of cascading water. Looking around, he beheld a breathtaking sight: a hanging garden adorned with lush greenery, vibrant flowers, and delicate vines cascading down from the ceiling. In the center of the lobby, a magnificent waterfall glistened in the soft light, its crystal-clear waters trickling down into a serene pool below.

Denis spotted the receptionist, Daniel, sitting behind the dark gray marble desk, typing something on his keyboard. Denis marched towards Daniel, with pride written across his face.

"Daniel!" Denis called out, his voice filled with enthusiasm as he approached the reception desk. Daniel glanced up from his keyboard, a warm smile spreading across his face as he recognized Denis.

“What’s up? You look like you won a medal or something. What’s going on?” he asked.

“I’m leaving. I got a gig. Bianca Nyberg,” he said, his words giving off a slightly arrogant feel.

Daniel's eyes widened in excitement. "No way! That's huge, man! Bianca Nyberg is a legend in the industry. I bought my wife a fur stole from her as a gift! You're gonna kill it!"

"I hope so," Denis replied, his excitement bubbling over. "Wish me luck!"

"Good luck, Denis! Knock 'em dead!" Daniel exclaimed, giving Denis a thumbs-up as he headed towards the door.

“I will! Soon I’ll end up on the big billboards, watch me,” Denis answered, squinting his eyes, promising to succeed.

He turned away from Daniel, facing towards the automatic doors leading out of the lobby outside. He walked through as fresh air filled his lungs. The boulevard was swarming with people, most commuting home from work. Denis checked the clock: it was almost 6 pm. He saw the taxi pole in front of the building, walking over to it, waiting for his ride which was to deliver him to his inevitable success.

He leaned against the pole, looking over his surroundings. The lofty skyscrapers and office buildings around him restricted Denis from seeing anywhere else but the boulevard, stretching for miles. To pass the time, he started people watching. Fur clothing, that was what he was going to wear in his shoot. He spotted people left and right wearing fur, whereas normally he wouldn’t have even noticed.

He saw a lady in a brown sable coat and sunglasses talking on the phone and puffing a cigarette, a plume of smoke emitting from her lips. He looked over to the city theater that was just a little further down the street. A cab door opened and out stepped a blonde beauty, dressed in a light colored dress and a long white fox fur stole, greatly resembling Marilyn Monroe. Her stole swayed gently as she made her way up the steps. He spotted a couple walking together, wearing a matching pair of full length silver fox fur coats. The wife wore a black classy dress with leather opera gloves on her hands, topped off with a Louis Vuitton bag. The lady reached to tickle the man under his chin. The man, wearing a simple suit, grinned as he pulled his head away.

“All these people... wearing fur. It seems to be popular in this city. How haven’t I ever noticed? Bianca must be filthy rich with all these people dressed like this. This is going to be so good,” Denis thought, smiling to himself and almost being able to picture himself on a high fashion runway. He closed his eyes for a moment, dreaming about his future.

HONK! HONK!

“What the…” he was startled awake.

A white Maybach had pulled up and was now waiting for him in front of the taxi pole. Denis raised his hand apologetically as he walked over to the right side of the vehicle. He stepped in the passenger seat, closing the door behind him. The Maybach pulled off from the agency with a destination already predetermined. As he leaned back in the plush leather seat of the Maybach, Denis couldn't shake off the image of opulence that had just surrounded him on the city streets. The allure of wealth and luxury seemed palpable, tantalizing him with the promise of a glamorous future.

As the car glided smoothly through the bustling streets, Denis couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement mingled with nerves. This meeting with Bianca, the renowned mogul, was his ticket to the world of haute couture. He had spent months perfecting his portfolio, honing his skills, and now, finally, he was on the brink of a breakthrough.

The tall buildings faded away from his periphery as the scenery transferred from a bustling metropolis to a more extensive and open suburbia. The buildings got more and more upscale before they pulled up to a gate. The gate was attached to two marble columns, golden fox statues adorning the top of them. Denis saw the driver speak on an intercom before the gate doors opened slowly.

The Maybach drove up a hill, closing in on a huge 2-story classical style manor. The driveway ended in a roundabout, a beautiful fountain in the middle of it. On top of the mountain was another golden fox, standing tall and indicating significant wealth. Halting at the front of the porch, Denis stepped out of the vehicle.

The front door opened, revealing Bianca Nyberg. A lady in her mid 40s with a medium length platinum shag cut and piercing blue eyes. She wore a white blouse and a black leather skirt with black heels. Golden hoop earrings embellished her ears as she smiled, dark red matte lips twisting into a welcoming expression. Finishing up her attire, she wore a long extremely fluffy crystal fox fur coat with an enormous collar, contributing to an image of opulence and sensuality. Her hands were at her hips, decked by a set of long black nails.

She stepped out with a brunette servant with her hair in a neat bun, dressed akin to a French maid. She held a tray, carrying two glasses of champagne. The maid stood next to the dark wooden front door, as Bianca made her way down the porch steps to properly meet Denis. The hem of the luxurious coat bobbed and swayed as she traversed down the steps one by one.

“Mr. Marsalis! I’m so pleased to meet you! I am Bianca Nyberg,” she introduced herself excitedly, her voice soft and deep.

Denis stared at her as she approached. Bianca definitely looked the part of a wealthy furrier. “Denis Marsalis, a pleasure,” he said, smiling and offering a formal hand shake.

Bianca dismissed the offering and pulled Denis into a tight hug. He opened his eyes in surprise, being led to a warm fuzzy embrace. Denis felt snug in Bianca’s arms as he felt the thick fur sleeves forcing him close to her. As he wrapped his arms behind her back, he instinctively caressed the soft and luscious fox fur. Thanks to the size of the collar, the fluffy strands of fur on it grazed his cheek, as they waved in the gentle breeze, causing him to get goosebumps.

Bianca giggled softly as she felt Denis’s hands explore the fur. “So soft and lovely, isn’t it? You’ll get to wear them a bunch today, handsome. Shall we go inside? We have much to discuss,” she suggested teasingly, easing up on the furry welcome gesture.

“Yeah… uhm… let’s go,” Denis said, still a bit taken aback by what had transpired.

They walked up the stairs together as Denis couldn’t take his eyes off Bianca’s massive coat, the soft flowing fur mesmerizing and almost hypnotizing Denis as the enigmatic lady led him to the door. They both picked up champagne glasses from the maid’s tray.

As they entered the opulent foyer, Denis couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at the grandeur surrounding him. The air was filled with the sweet scent of perfume and the soft murmur of classical music drifting from hidden speakers.

Bianca led Denis through the sprawling mansion, their footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting that lined the halls. Every room they passed was adorned with exquisite artwork and luxurious furnishings, a testament to Bianca's impeccable taste and vast wealth.

As they traveled the hallways, Denis couldn't help but notice a line of huge portrait paintings adorning the walls. Each canvas depicted a woman exuding elegance and sophistication, draped in luxurious fur coats and stoles that seemed to shimmer with life.

"Wow, these portraits are breathtaking," Denis remarked, pausing to admire the intricate details of each painting. The rich hues of the fur coats seemed to leap off the canvas, their texture so lifelike that Denis almost felt as though he could reach out and touch them.

Bianca nodded, a proud smile gracing her lips. "Yes, these are some of my most prized possessions," she said, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "They belonged to my ancestors. I come from a long lineage of furriers, renowned for their craft back then. I am a third generation Finnish American. My family moved to the US for better business opportunities. Fur has always been a symbol of luxury and status, passed down through generations."

Denis looked at the end of the hallway, which seemed to end in a grand and spacious ballroom of sorts. “And that’s why everyone comes to you. They trust you,” Denis confirmed.

“Yes, they do. It’s expensive but they receive fluffy perfection each time,” Bianca giggled. “Some of the most influential people in the city come to me for their fur clothing. One of my top customers is called Regina, I love her. We click so well. We seem to have similar tastes in… well… everything!” she reminisced, smiling to herself.

“I see,” Denis replied slowly, squinting his eyes as he had no idea who Bianca was talking about.

As they arrived in the hall where the shooting takes place, Denis couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation mixed with a hint of nervousness. The space was expansive, filled with racks of fur clothing and bright lights but no crew.

“Where’s the photographer?” Denis asked, puzzled by the emptiness of the hall.

“You’re looking at her, baby,” Bianca answered, smiling slyly. “I prefer doing things myself, as it gives me more control and there’s less hassle about the pictures. So it’s just you and me… and furs.” Bianca fetched a photo album from a nearby table. “Here’s a little bit of a taste of what your photos are going to look like,” she said, opening the album.

In the photo album Bianca presented, Denis sees two striking examples of poses showcasing the luxurious fur garments against a plain white background:

A model is draped in a sumptuous fox fur stole, the rich, golden hues of the fur contrasting beautifully against her skin. The model's pose is natural yet alluring, with one hand lightly grazing the fur draped over her shoulder while the other rests elegantly on her hip. Her head is tilted slightly to the side, with a subtle hint of mischief in her eyes. The stole cascades down her back in soft waves, emphasizing the fluidity and opulence of the fur. This pose exudes confidence and sophistication, showcasing the timeless allure of the fox fur stole.

In another image, a different model is depicted wearing a magnificent coat crafted from luxurious Finn raccoon fur. The coat envelops her in a cocoon of warmth and glamour, its soft, brown fur shimmering under the bright studio lights. The model's pose is seductive yet understated, with one hand casually resting on her hip while the other lightly strokes the plush fur collar of the coat.

Bianca pointed to a fridge next to the coat rack, directing Denis towards it. “Go pick yourself something to drink, sweetie. We’ll be here for a while,” she suggested. Denis followed through, picking up a glass bottle of Coke from the fridge. He opened it and took a long sip before setting it aside on the table near the coat rack.

“Good! Let’s get started!” Bianca announced, clapping her hands together once.

Denis felt a surge of excitement as he prepared to model the luxurious fur coats for Bianca. With a newfound confidence, he slipped into the first coat, a sleek mink creation that enveloped him. As he struck a pose, he couldn't help but feel a thrill at the way the fur draped elegantly over his shoulders, the soft fibers caressing his skin with each movement. Bianca watched with a discerning eye, offering gentle guidance and encouragement as Denis showcased the coat from every angle. Next, he donned a stunning lynx fur jacket, its intricate pattern and rich texture adding a touch of wild elegance to his ensemble.

With each pose, Denis channeled the spirit of the fierce predator, his movements fluid and graceful as he brought the coat to life before Bianca's keen gaze. Together, they worked tirelessly to capture the essence of each garment, their collaboration a testament to their shared passion for fashion and beauty. And as the photo shoot drew to a close, Denis couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at having played a part in bringing Bianca's vision to life.

One after another he modeled every single coat on the rack. As the last pictures had been taken, with Denis wearing a black dyed raccoon coat. He walked back over to the coat rack, before stumbling on a cord attached to the studio lights. He fell against the rack and the table, making them fall over. The bottle of coke that was on the table shattered, spilling the dark soda all over the furs, ruining them in the process.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THIS IS GOING TO COST ME?” Bianca yelled, shocked by what Denis had done to her precious coats. “Your career is so over! Wait till the others hear about this! Expect to get no more bookings! EVER!”

Realizing Bianca’s influence, Denis rose to his knees, crossing his hands. “Please, don’t tell others about this! I’m so sorry! Please, don’t ruin my career! I’ll do anything, anything! I don’t have anything else!” he begged, praying to keep his career at the agency. He had messed up big time.

Bianca’s face changed from that of fury, to a face of annoyance. “The only way I can forgive you is if you work for this… for my forgiveness,” she said, giving out an ultimatum, his career or a considerable favor. She enjoyed seeing him on his knees, begging for her. It gave her a feeling of power over him.

“Yes! Yes! I’ll do it! Whatever it is, I’ll do it!” Denis begged, tears almost forming in his eyes. He was desperate. He would go to Hell and back to keep his career.

Bianca's lips twisted into a mischievous smile as she watched Denis plead for forgiveness, relishing the power she held over him in that moment. She savored the sight of him on his knees, his desperation palpable in the air. With a flick of her wrist, she waved away his tears, reveling in the control she had over his fate. “Follow me.”

She took a hold of his hand and with a sense of apprehension gnawing at his insides, Denis followed Bianca through the labyrinthine corridors of the manor, his heart pounding with every step. As they ascended the grand staircase to the second floor, he couldn't help but feel a knot tightening in his stomach.

Bianca's grip on his hand was firm yet strangely reassuring, guiding him forward with an air of confidence that sent shivers down Denis's spine. He stole a glance at her, noting the mischievous glint in her eyes and the smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She seemed to be enjoying this far too much.

Finally, they reached the door to Bianca's bedroom, its polished wood gleaming in the soft glow of the hallway lights. With a flick of her wrist, Bianca pushed the door open, revealing a lavish sanctuary beyond.

Denis's breath caught in his throat as he stepped into the room, his eyes widening at the sight before him. The bedroom was a symphony of luxury, with plush velvet furnishings, delicate lace curtains, and a king-sized bed adorned with fur sheets and fluffy pillows. The walls, unlike anything he had ever seen before, were adorned with rich wine red fur, covering them in their entirety and lending the room an air of lavish extravagance. The soft, velvety texture of the fur seemed to beckon to him, inviting him into its embrace.

As Denis turned around he saw that Bianca had unbuttoned her white flowing blouse, revealing no bra underneath. Denis stared at Bianca’s sizable cleavage, emerging through a sea of fur as she stroked down the seams of her coat, hardening her nipples slightly. “Denis, I want you to submit to me... I want you to submit to me and make me feel good.” She established, coming in close to Denis and stroking down his sides, whispering: “And I want you to let me do anything I’d like to you…”

Bianca reached under Denis’s sweater and slowly started lifting it up, revealing his lean body to her lust-filled eyes. His belt was unbuckled, as his jeans were slowly discarded. Bianca gently shoved her long fingers under the elastic of Denis’s underpants, pulling them down and revealing his penis to her gaze. Denis stared at her, wide eyed and his jaw trembling, as Bianca pushed him onto the bed and the soft fur counterpane. She quickly straddled him, forbidding him from going anywhere. Denis was hers.

He felt the weight and the brushing of Bianca’s crystal fox fur coat as well as the fur sheets under him pressing against his back. Denis was squished between two behemoths of fluffiness. The soft fur tantalizing his skin felt almost comforting, as Denis felt his cock starting to tingle lightly. Bianca took a hold of his left arm, pushing it to the left bedpost. She reached inside her coat and pulled out some cuffs out of the pocket. The soft fur of Bianca's coat brushed against his skin as she moved, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body. He was completely at her mercy, unable to move as she bound him to the bed with practiced precision. His left hand was tied to the bedpost and soon was his right.

Bianca got up momentarily to turn her back against Denis, targeting his legs nest. The fur brushed the whole way against his stomach. The long fur coat cascaded across Denis’s chest all the way up to his neck, covering his whole upper body. Bianca cuffed his ankles, so that Denis was tied in a Y-position. Bianca turned back to face Denis. She smiled at him slyly while stroking his sides gently. “You’re mine. You have nowhere to go,” she said, leaning a bit closer to him.

Bianca twisted her hands into a claw position, as she started tracing her long black nails up and down Denis’s sides. She gently started wiggling her fingers, skittering the nails on his bare skin. Denis felt an intense tingle at his sides. His lips were forced into a grin as the sensation flooded his senses. He tried to fight it but to no avail, letting out small giggles. Bianca smiled as she leaned close to Denis’s ear: “Does it… tickle?”

Denis couldn’t help but smile as Bianca’s nails explored his sides, firing his ticklish nerves up. “Do my skittering nails make you want to laugh?” she teased, knowing the answer already. It was so obvious: Denis was ticklish. He squirmed and wriggled against his restraints, the sensation of Bianca's nails dancing across his skin. He tried to suppress the laughter bubbling up from deep within him, but it was a futile effort. With each feather-light touch of her nails, he felt the laughter building within him, threatening to spill out in a cascade of giggles and gasps.

“That’s right, Denis. I’m a tickler. I love to make men howl with laughter helplessly under my touch. And that goes for you too. I want you to laugh for me. I know it tickles. It tickles you so bad. Don’t hold anything back, Denis. Let it tickle,” Bianca whispered, revealing her secrets to her unsuspecting tickle victim.

Denis couldn’t ignore Bianca’s teases, each playful stroke of her nails sending waves of ticklish delight coursing through his body. Despite his attempts to suppress it, laughter spilled uncontrollably from his lips, the sound filling the room with a joyous symphony of mirth.

Bianca's smile widened at the sight of Denis squirming and giggling beneath her touch, reveling in the power she held over him. With each passing moment, she pushed him further into the depths of ticklish ecstasy, her nails tracing intricate patterns along his skin with a skillful precision that left him breathless and gasping for air.

As Denis's laughter echoed off the walls of the bedroom, Bianca leaned in close, her lips hovering tantalizingly close to his ear. "You're quite the ticklish one, aren't you, Denis?" she murmured, her voice a seductive whisper that sent shivers down his spine. "But don't worry, I'm just getting started."

With that tantalizing promise hanging in the air, Bianca continued her assault, her nails dancing across Denis's skin with a relentless determination that threatened to drive him to the brink of madness. And as the ticklish torture intensified, Denis surrendered himself completely to the intoxicating ticklishness of Bianca's touch, lost in a whirlwind of laughter.

As Denis wriggled and thrashed, he was caressed by the long fur of Bianca’s coat with each passing moment. The soft, luxurious fur enveloped him like a warm embrace, its gentle touch adding an extra layer of sensation to the ticklish torment he was experiencing. With every movement, the fur brushed against his skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body and intensifying the sensations of Bianca's teasing touch.

Despite his struggles, Denis couldn't help but find solace in the comforting embrace of the fur coat, its luxurious warmth a soothing balm against the intensity of his ticklish sensations. It was as if the fur itself was whispering words of reassurance, gently coaxing him to surrender to the pleasure of the moment, causing his member to grow rapidly.

Bianca started exploring up Denis’s ticklish arms, her nails trailing lightly along his skin with a teasing touch that sent shivers down his spine. She leaned in close, right next to his ear and blew into it, causing Denis to shiver and scrunch his neck.

With each playful stroke of her nails, Bianca unleashed a torrent of ticklish sensations that swept through Denis's body like wildfire, igniting every nerve ending with a dizzying intensity. He could feel the warmth of her breath against his skin as she leaned in close, her touch sending sparks of pleasure dancing along his arms.

After reaching Denis’s wrists, the nails’ ticklish flicks made their way closer and closer to his armpits. Denis squirmed and giggled uncontrollably, his body writhing beneath Bianca's touch as she unleashed a relentless assault on his most sensitive spots.

With each teasing stroke of her nails, Denis felt the ticklish sensations intensifying, the anticipation of what was to come sending waves of excitement coursing through his veins. He tried to brace himself for the inevitable onslaught, but it was no use – he was completely at Bianca's mercy, powerless to resist the overwhelming pleasure of her touch.

As Bianca's nails danced ever closer to his armpits, Denis could feel his heart racing in anticipation. He knew that once she reached that sensitive area, the ticklish torment would reach new heights of intensity, driving him to the brink of madness with ecstasy.

And then, in a sudden flurry of movement, Bianca's nails descended upon Denis's armpits with a vengeance, unleashing a barrage of ticklish flicks that left him gasping for breath. His laughter filled the room, a joyous symphony of sound that echoed off the walls as he surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming pleasure of the moment. And as he surrendered himself to the sensation, he knew that he was in the grip of something truly magical – something that transcended the boundaries of pleasure and pain to create an experience unlike any other.

Denis closed his eyes as his mouth remained wide open, emitting desperate laughter wave after wave. He tried to ease the intense feeling of tickling but it was no use. Bianca’s nails were relentless and devious. It was almost like they had a mind of their own, analyzing Denis and how to best tickle him to death.

Bianca switched spots once again, her mischievous grin widening as she targeted Denis's sensitive ribs. With expert precision, her nails rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern, tracing delicate lines over his rib bones like gentle waves lapping at the shore.

Denis's laughter reached a crescendo as Bianca's nails danced along his ribs, the sensation sending waves of ticklish pleasure coursing through his body. He squirmed and wriggled beneath her touch, his breath coming in short gasps as he struggled to catch his breath.

With each teasing stroke, Bianca seemed to find new ways to torment him, her nails skittering across his skin with a relentless determination that left him dizzy with ecstasy. He could feel the warmth of her body pressed against his, her laughter mingling with his own as they shared in the joy of the moment.

“Tickle tickle tickle! Aww, is it ticklish? Does it make you go crazy? Is your fur tickle mistress evil, Denis?” Bianca teased, getting inside Denis’s head to make him surrender completely to her. He knew he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. For now he was Bianca’s, this mischievous fur-clad tickler's property

Denis’s face turned red from all the helpless laughter. His ribs tingled with unimaginable intensity as Bianca’s fingers wiggled, probing every bump and crevice, leaving no spot on his ribs un-tickled. She wanted to be precise. Every single tickle spot she chose had to be examined thoroughly to ensure maximum tickle torture. Bianca took great pleasure in Denis’s ticklish predicament. All of his laughter satisfied her sadistic tickler’s hunger bit by bit.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! LET ME GO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! THIS ISN’T WORTH IT! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” Denis pleaded, in the middle of his laughter. He regretted agreeing to her demands.

“You have two choices, Tickle Denis,” Bianca reminded, giving him a teasing nickname. “Either you lie there and let it tickle tickle tickle like a good boy… or you lose your career,” she gave ultimatums, leaning in closer to elaborate. “And everyone will learn that you enjoy treatments like this.”

Denis’s eyes widened in shock. “WHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAT?”

“I can feel your boner growing under me. You like this. You enjoy being tickled by a fur goddess like me, don’t you?” Bianca asked, ceasing her tickling for a moment and raising her eyebrow. “You like the way my soft fur feels like cascading and covering your body. You like the way my nails explore you, making you tingle and laugh.”

Denis’s face turned an ever deeper shade of red. He couldn’t say a word in response. Denis panted like an exhausted dog. Sweat dripped down his face as he stared at Bianca. She smiled at him, looking like she had something new and ticklish in store for him. She shimmied a bit, changing her position to sit on his knees and revealing his throbbing penis. She grabbed it gently and traced a single nail down it from the top to the bottom.

"Marie!" Bianca's voice echoed through the corridors, summoning her maid to the bedroom with a sense of urgency. Almost immediately, the door swung open, and Marie stepped inside the room, her demeanor poised and professional.

"Bring out the fluff box... and your duster," Bianca commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. Marie nodded silently, understanding the gravity of the situation, and quickly set about retrieving the requested items.

With a practiced efficiency, Marie retrieved an ornate box, its surface adorned with intricate patterns and delicate filigree. She also brought a feather duster from nearby, its soft ostrich feathers gleaming in the dim light of the bedroom.

Handing the items to Bianca with a deferential bow, Marie awaited further instructions, her eyes fixed on her mistress with unwavering loyalty and devotion.

Bianca's lips curled into a satisfied smile as she took the fluff box and duster from Marie, her mind already racing with plans for what was to come next. With these tools at her disposal, she knew that she could take Denis's ticklish torment to even greater heights, pushing him to the very limits of sanity.

And as she turned back to Denis, her eyes gleaming with mischief, she couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the prospect of what lay ahead. “Marie, why don’t you join us? Pick something from my wardrobe and come have some fun with us,” she suggested.

Marie smiled and nodded in response to Bianca's invitation, her eyes lighting up with anticipation as she made her way across the room to Bianca’s wardrobe. With a practiced eye, she scanned the array of luxurious garments before her, her gaze lingering on a particular item that caught her attention.

In a swift motion, Marie reached out and retrieved a double-sided pink fox fur stole, its plush fur gleaming in the soft light of the bedroom. With two tails on each end, it was a stunning piece that exuded elegance and sophistication.

Without hesitation, Marie draped the stole around her shoulders, relishing the sensation of the soft fur against her skin. She then reached for a matching pillbox fox fur hat, its rosy hue perfectly complementing the stole.

Denis’s heart pumped and adrenaline coursed through his veins with anticipation as he saw Marie approaching, twirling one of the stole’s tails in her hand. Not another tickler, he wouldn’t be able to handle it: the intense tickling, the teasing, the torment.

Bianca picked up the plush and sizable feather duster and brushed it against her palm. “Pick up something from the fluff box, Marie,” she said, aiming the duster at Denis and brushing it in the air. “Let’s make this man go insane.”

Marie walked over to the box and began to rummage through its contents, her fingers deftly sifting through the assortment of items within. With each movement, she searched for the perfect tool to add to their ticklish arsenal, her brows furrowed in concentration as she considered her options.

After a moment of careful deliberation, Marie's eyes lit up with a triumphant gleam as she finally found what she was looking for. With a satisfied smile, she withdrew two huge, white ostrich feathers from the depths of the box, their soft strands fluttering in the air as she held them aloft. Each was over half a meter long. Marie took a seat in between Denis’s arms, just above his head.

“Perfect… Now, let’s bless him with our tickles,” Bianca said, taking a hold of Denis’s throbbing penis and delicately brushing the duster down from the tip to the base.

Marie's feathers descended upon Denis's sides with a gentle, teasing touch, sending soft waves of ticklishness cascading through his upper body. With each delicate stroke, Denis squirmed and wriggled beneath the feathers' caress, his laughter filling the room with a joyous symphony of sound.

The combined feeling of the soft feathers caressing his sides and engulfing his cock felt hellishly heavenly. Denis felt every strand, every fiber from Bianca’s duster and Marie’s feathers traversing and tickling his vulnerable skin. The way they traveled and wandered up and down his most sensitive spots loaded him with ticklish arousal.

Bianca watched with delight as Marie worked her magic, her eyes alight with mischief as she observed Denis's helpless plight. With each passing moment, the intensity of his ticklish sensations seemed to grow, driving him to the brink of madness with ecstasy.

As Marie continued to explore Denis's sides with her feathers, Bianca couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the sight before her. With each flicker of the feather's bristles, she could see the pleasure and torment mingling on Denis's face, his laughter and moaning a testament to the sheer intensity of the experience.

Marie's voice floated through the room, teasing and playful as she observed Denis's reaction to her feathers’ gentle touch.

"So soft and ticklish, isn't it?" she teased, her tone laced with amusement as she watched Denis squirm and giggle beneath her ministrations. The feathers continued their dance along his body, traveling to his underarms, eliciting waves of ticklish delight that seemed to ripple through his entire body.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Marie released one feather and instead grasped an end of her stole with one hand. Bringing it close to Denis's face, she brushed the soft fur against it in a teasing gesture, her movements deliberate and tantalizing.

The plush fur caressed Denis's skin with a gentle touch, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body. He couldn't help but gasp at the sensation, his cheeks flushing with excitement as Marie continued her playful assault.

Bianca was having a grand time dusting Denis’s ticklish member. The sea consisting of several dozen ostrich feathers twirled up, down and around, emitting ticklish pulses of euphoria in their wake. Marie’s feathers made him giggle, but Bianca’s feathering made Denis moan in ecstacy.

“Let aahh me go ahahahaha,” Denis pleaded, his voice a mixture of moans and soft giggling.

"I think we'd much rather keep tickling you, Denis," she answered matter-of-factly, her tone dripping with mischief. "And you really seem to like my duster here. Tickle tickle tickle!"

With a playful twirl of the feather duster in her hand, Bianca continued to tease and torment Denis’s cock, her movements calculated to elicit the maximum amount of ticklish pleasure from him. Each flick of the duster sent waves of sensation coursing through his body, driving him to the brink of madness and nearer to orgasm.

Denis could only gasp and giggle in response, his pleas for mercy drowned out by the overwhelming sensation of ticklish delight. Despite his protests, he couldn't deny the sheer pleasure of the experience, lost in a whirlwind of laughter and bliss.

"Marie, switch over to his feet. I wanna make him laugh properly again," Bianca requested with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Marie nodded eagerly, understanding Bianca's desire to intensify Denis's ticklish torment. With a swift motion, she got up and walked over to his tied feet and kneeled. Denis's eyes widened in anticipation as he felt Marie's feather approach his feet, knowing that he was in for another round of ticklish bliss. Despite his attempts to brace himself, he couldn't help but squirm and giggle in anticipation of what was to come.

With a swift motion, Bianca tossed the duster aside, its feathery bristles fluttering through the air as she reached into the fluff box. Her fingers sifted through its contents until they closed around a super soft makeup brush, its bristles delicate and inviting to the touch.

Grasping the brush firmly in her hand, Bianca turned her attention back to Denis, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of her lips. With a flick of her wrist, she began to trace delicate patterns along his sensitive head, the soft bristles of the brush eliciting waves of ticklish pleasure.

Marie took the opportunity to intensify Denis's ticklish torment. With swift and nimble movements, she directed her feathers to dance in between his toes, their delicate bristles sending sparks of sensation shooting through his body.

Denis's laughter erupted anew as Marie's feathers tickled the sensitive skin between his toes, the sensation driving him to the brink of madness with ecstasy. He squirmed and wriggled beneath her touch, unable to contain the sheer delight of the experience.

The tickle of the makeup brush spiraled about his sensitive parts from his frenulum, around his glans, up and down his shaft, causing him to ooze with pre-cum, a testament to his ticklish pleasure. Bianca gave Denis tickly stipples with her tickle brush, also fluctuating between long strokes and quick gentle caresses, making him moan and wish for more, although he would never admit it.

With a sly grin, Marie discarded her feathers, opting for a more direct approach to Denis's ticklish torment. She extended her nails and began to trace delicate patterns along the sensitive skin of his feet.

Denis's laughter intensified as Marie's nails danced across his skin, the sensation sending

ticklish jolts coursing through his body. He squirmed and wriggled beneath her touch, his breath coming in short gasps as he struggled to contain the sheer delight of the experience.

“I think it tickles, Marie,” Bianca informed with a mischievous grin, watching Denis squirm under their combined assault. Denis, his laughter mixed with pleas for mercy, thrashed about, trying to escape the relentless tickling.

Marie, undeterred by Denis's protests, continued to work her magic on his feet, her nails dancing across his sensitive skin with expert precision. She couldn't help but giggle at his reactions, finding his vulnerability utterly adorable. "Oh, does it now?" she teased, increasing the pressure just a tad.

Bianca intensified the strokes of her makeup brush, while Marie switched tactics, alternating between feather-light touches and slightly firmer strokes with her nails.

Denis's laughter grew louder, filling the room as he struggled to catch his breath between bouts of uncontrollable giggles. He thrashed about, his attempts to escape futile against the combined forces of Bianca and Marie.

Denis was nearing orgasm with each soft brush and tickle. Sensing this, Bianca quickly dropped her makeup brush and sat on top of Denis's stomach once again, pinning him down with a mischievous grin. With a swift movement, she raised her hands and struck her talon-like nails to his sides, eliciting fresh peals of laughter from Denis. The fur of her crystal fox fur coat descended over his freshly dusted and brushed cock. Every squirm and turn made the fur brush his penis with its soft and plush strands.

Bianca started tickling Denis's neck, her fingers dancing lightly over his sensitive skin. She leaned closer and closer to his face, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she enjoyed his helpless laughter.

Denis squirmed even more beneath Bianca's touch, his laughter becoming even more uncontrollable as her fingers continued their relentless assault on his neck. He felt utterly helpless, completely at the mercy of her ticklish whims.

As Bianca leaned in close, her warm breath tickling his ear, Denis couldn't help but shiver with anticipation. Her whispered words sent a shiver down his spine, the playful tone sending a rush of excitement coursing through him.

“Tickle tickle,” Bianca whispered softly into his ear, her words causing Denis to burst into a fresh wave of laughter. He could feel her warm breath against his skin, her closeness sending a thrill of excitement through him. And then, to Denis's surprise, Bianca leaned in and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. His laughter faltered for a moment, replaced by a warm flush of pleasure as her lips met his skin.

Bianca settled herself comfortably on Denis's legs once more. Her fingers danced playfully along the surface of the fluff box until she found what she was looking for—a luxurious fur glove.

Denis watched with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension as Bianca picked up the glove, a knowing smile playing on her lips. He knew all too well what was coming next, and yet, he couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the thought of what lay ahead.

Bianca slowly slipped the fur glove onto her hand, the soft material gliding over her fingers with a delicate rustle. With a wicked grin, she raised her hand and began to stroke the fur along Denis's legs, the sensation sending shivers of delight through him.

Gently she took a hold of Denis’s teased cock, wrapping it with soft, warm and comforting fur. With the flick of her wrist, she pleasured him with the lovely fur glove. The combination of Marie abusing his feet with tickles and Bianca granting him fluffy, fuzzy pleasure made his nerves fire up like dynamite. Intense agonizing laughter blended with loud moans of pleasure echoed off the fur covered walls.

Bianca's laughter faded into a mischievous smile as she moved to lie next to Denis, the fur glove still in her hand. With a playful glint in her eyes, she continued to pump the fluffy glove against his throbbing sex, teasing him with light ticklish strokes.

Whispering softly, her breath warm against his ear, she murmured, "Give in to the sensation, Denis. The fur feels so good on your cock, caressing it up and down and engulfing it, I know. I bet you feel every hair and fur follicle stroking you all over. You feel all of it gently tickling you. Marie will continue to tickle your feet while I pleasure you with my fur. We will make you cum, Denis. Don’t fight it. Embrace the tickle.”

He could hardly believe the sensations that were coursing through his body—ticklish torment mingled with the tantalizing touch of the fur glove. Every stroke of the soft fur against his pulsating member elicited pleasure rippling through him, while Bianca's whispered words and playful kisses only added to the intensity of the moment.

As Denis lay there, lost in the dizzying whirlwind of pleasure and ticklish torment brought on by Bianca's playful ministrations, he suddenly felt another wave of sensation wash over him. Marie was still there, her nails dancing lightly over his sensitive feet, adding to the overwhelming intensity of the moment.

The combined assault of Bianca's fur glove and Marie's relentless tickling of his feet sent Denis into a frenzy of laughter and arousal. He writhed and squirmed beneath their touch, unable to control the torrent of sensation that engulfed him.

It was a sensation unlike any other, a heady mixture of pleasure and ticklish torment that left him gasping for breath and longing for more. And as Bianca continued to tease and tantalize him with her soft touches and whispered words, Denis knew that he was completely at her mercy, lost in a world of ticklish delight.

With a playful grin, Bianca leaned in closer, her lips hovering just inches from his as she whispered, "Cum for us, Denis. Cum to your tickles."

As Denis's climax reached its peak, he felt an explosive release surging through him, his body trembling with the intensity of his orgasm. His cock throbbed with pleasure, turning red from the sheer force of his release as streaks of cum flew across the room, painting the space in a testament to his ecstasy.

His eyes rolled back in bliss as he gasped for air, feeling the overwhelming rush of pleasure coursing through every fiber of his being. Marie and Bianca gradually ceased their playful treatment, allowing him a moment to gather himself amidst the aftermath of his intense release.

Bianca, with a tender touch, gently turned Denis's head to face her and planted a soft kiss on his lips. Her fingers caressed his hair soothingly as she whispered, "There you go," offering him comfort in the aftermath of his explosive climax.

Denis, still catching his breath, looked at Bianca with a mixture of gratitude and amusement. "Are we even?" he asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

Bianca rose from her place beside Denis, a satisfied grin playing on her lips. "Consider your debt settled," she declared, her voice filled with playful satisfaction. "But I think I'll let Marie blow off some steam."

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Marie eagerly took Bianca's place, settling herself comfortably on Denis's legs. She wasted no time in taking action, reaching for her fur stole and deftly tying it over Denis's eyes, effectively blindfolding him.

Before he could even prepare himself, he felt Marie's fingers dancing lightly over his exposed armpits, sending a jolt of ticklish sensation coursing through him. He squirmed and writhed beneath her touch, his laughter bubbling up uncontrollably as she teased and tantalized him with her tickling, worsened by his ticklegasm.

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