Tickling Therapy

“Holy shit.” The words just leak out of me as I end the call. It’s hard to be sure from the noises alone, but the teenager was gasping lightly before my pet could even finish reading the coupon I looked up on my cell... and unless masturbating cashiers is a common issue for Pizza Shacks, I’m willing to take that as proof that her voice even turns people on remotely. What chaos could I accomplish with this? Get her on the PA system at school? Manage to get her on live television? Tape her words and play them for any girl I want to drive wild? I’d have to test that last one out, since that’s a further step removed. Maybe mom could help with that...

As Ms. Lia recovers from my rather gentle teasing of her tits with single fingers, I swap to Custom Girls. Sure enough, three more aroused people register on my bounty.

But why the Hell is it that potent? Ms. Lia barely got a few dozen words in and some girl sounded ready to flick her bean in public. What will an hour of lecturing do? Did the awareness of others being off mean they’d think nothing of it? Plus Sophia would just accept it as normal, I guess... and maybe, it dawns on me, just maybe I can use that. I flick to the new feature's awareness settings. Once she realizes what her voice can do to strangers, and yet doesn't do to me...

My latest theory brews until, with a confident tap, I switch her awareness of her vocal power on. She doesn’t flinch or leap from where we sit on her bed with a sudden epiphany, nor would she: she probably doesn’t even know her voice’s effect yet. But tomorrow...

I return to dragging just my index and middle finger tips across her respective breasts as I hug her from behind, gently kissing her neck as she squirms, and whisper, “We’ll just use the Pizza Shack app, next time. I got what I wanted.”

“This is... so much worse...!”

“Their app is fine, it even has coupons-”

“N-No, you... ugh, this... touching!”

“This?” I emphasize by adding all my fingertips, carefully tickling and irritating her tuned-up tits. Without interacting with them at all, her breasts begin to gently spray milk based on how rapidly I drag my fingers across her skin.

“Hnng... yes... yes, this. Please just... just...”

“Just squeeze them?”

“Yes... please...” She shudders in my hand, though not from climax. In all my eager mauling I didn’t think about this until I arrived to this playful mood... and the effect on her is so different that I must refuse.

“No.”

“Please-!” She begins sharply inhaling between words. “I- I- can’t- stop-!”

The act of tickling is simple enough; the weirdness comes in the sensation of being tickled. Brutal hearts can be melted into giggling fits with the right stimulation, and most tickle porn I've ever seen (not my fetish, but I was curious, honest!) requires restraints. I have to imagine this is because the urge to stop the tickling is irresistible, as primal as a fight-or-flight response before real danger. Hatts's orders can't be willfully disobeyed, so finding the trick to get Ms. Lia to technically resist--and thus open her up to whatever I can imagine--was basically written off to me about a hundred orgasms into the weekend. Sophia wasn't going to resist... not willfully... but what about instinctually...? Until now I was losing hope for that, too.

I don't think about any of that at the moment, though; I just love watching and feeling her squirm as I tickle tits turned ultra-sensitive three times over. But realization dawns on us both when her hands fly up to mine and do their best to crush and pull them away, succeeding only because I barely put **** into them. She looks down, bewildered and relieved... and then terrified as she realizes what she’s done. Her terror snaps me out of my own surprise.

“I... I didn't mean to-!”

“You... resisted me.”

“I- I couldn’t help it! The tickling is... so much worse...!”

“You... know the rules, Ms. Lia.”

“God, no... please don’t-!” Earnest tears begin pooling at the corners of her eyes. As I reposition on the bed and swing my legs over its edge, she chases after them by flinging herself to the ground and on her knees. The proud educator suddenly on the floor, milky tits dripping on unprotected carpet, her face bowing into my lap, and her arms half-heartedly hugging my waist... well, it’s the most willful submission I’ve ever experienced from any of my girls... and it's powerless beyond how it stirs my loins.

But this is not submission... at least, not the sort I want. She’s just begging. “Don’t what?”

She answers honestly despite not having to. “Please don’t take my... my virginity! Please!”

My thigh grows wet with her tears as she sobs her plea. It's my right to ignore it... but now I don't want to. My real dream goal is almost in my grasp, close enough to taste it: Ms. Lia, cunt of the English curriculum, willingly taking my cock with or without Hatts' barking orders to do it. I can't risk losing that by just taking what she isn't willing to give me... but I can guess she isn't aware of that. My grin grows until she surely misunderstands my intent. “What would you be willing to do... to prevent me from making that your new punishment?”

“Any-... Almost anything!”

“Well then... I'll offer you a trade, one that keeps this old punishment you just stopped... and you tell me if you'll accept it. Deal?”

It isn't a question about her per se, but she nods eagerly all the same. We're already naked after all; if I chose to take it, there's little to buy her time to resist or avoid it. “You're going to take me with you tomorrow.”

“T-Tomorrow...?”

“To your therapy session.”

Somewhere in Hell, a betting pool begins to double.

“You... you just want to... attend my therapy...?”

“Your punishment will stay the same for the rest of our time together,” I carefully explain, “except that, you'll take me into tomorrow's therapy session... and you'll act like I’m not there and agree to do whatever I say or approve of.” With some luck, the therapist's options will let me get her to play along... but I have to maintain control of Ms. Lia in case that doesn't pan out. “Also, you'll let me put my cum on you, wherever I want, without complaint. All of this... and I won't **** you to give it up, instead.” My foot slides up her thigh and towards her guarded crotch to emphasize. She looks up to me with mixtures of revulsion and fear... but soon her eyes are cast down. She can't manage rebellion... not this far into debt. “Do we have a deal?”