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THE TICKLISH TRAVELS OF RACHEL COOK
PART ONE – ONE EVENING IN TOKYO
Yasuhiro Kato, the Japanese billionaire, was seated in the Yamazato restaurant on the fifth floor of the Okura Hotel in Akasaka eating his dinner when he first saw her. She was blonde, about twenty-five years of age and about five feet four inches tall, wearing denim pants and vest with a white knit t-shirt. She was very pretty.
“Yukio,” he asked his waiter, “who is that blonde girl over there – she’s quite pretty. I’ve been watching her for several minutes now.”
“Ah-so desu-ka,” said Yukio, “her name is Rachel Cook, an American writer of cookbooks and hostess of a television program there. I was told that she is travelling to various places around the world to try various foods and to develop a special program based on her culinary experiences.”
“Ah-so,” he said, “is she staying in the hotel?”
“Yes, I believe so,” he said, “would you like to meet her?”
“Perhaps I’ll meet her later, in a somewhat different setting, Yukio,” he said, taking a medical capsule from a special container in his pocket, “I’ll make it worth your while if you arrange for this special capsule to dissolve in one of her drinks. It will make her a little more pliable when I do get to meet her. I want to tickle the piss out of her tonight, if I can get the chance to do it.”
“Of course, Kato-san,” said Yukio, “you have always taken good care of me by helping with my children’s school fees. I’ll find out her room number and arrange for a key to open it.”
“Thankyou, Yukio,” he said, “as the waiter returned to work.”
“It’s all arranged,” Yukio said as he returned to the table, “she is going to be drugged when she takes a drink and she will probably return to her room when she starts to feel sleepy. Here is the key to her room.”
“Excellent, my friend,” Master Kato replied, “I will give her an evening of great laughter. Would you like to join me?”
“No, I don’t think so,” he said, “my wife will be very angry if I don’t go directly home after work.”
“Thankyou, Yukio,” Master Kato replied, as he got up from his table, “have a good night.”
“You, too, my friend, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When Rachel awakened, she found herself in her hotel room. She was on her back on one of the queen-size beds. To her surprise, however, she was naked and tied up. Her wrists were held in leather cuffs at the head end corners of the bed and her ankles were similarly held at the foot end corners of the bed. There was a pillow under her head. She saw her clothes neatly folded on a chair nearby. She pulled her arms and legs to try to release herself but this was of no avail. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“Well, well,” she heard a man’s voice from the darker alcove off the side of the room, “you’re awake.”
“Where am I?” she asked. “What the hell do you want with me? Give me my clothes and let me go.”
“Now, that doesn’t sound very hospitable coming from a young woman touring various countries to experience everything that she can,” he taunted, as he walked around the bed admiring her, “I thought you were a friendly and eager young television personality.”
“Not like this,” she said, watching him as he moved to her right foot, “let me go or I’ll scream!”
“This room is on the traffic side of the hotel and is quite soundproof,” he told her, “and the rooms on either side are empty so you can scream all you want and nobody will hear you.”
“My,” he said, as he stroked her right foot, “your little feet are cold.”
“Don’t,” she said, “that tickles!”
“Don’t,” he mocked her, “that tickles! You sure are cute, though, and your pussy is so pretty.”
He touched her pussy gently and rubbed his finger along its outer lips. He then cupped his hand and squeezed her pussy in a loving and comforting way.
“Please let me go,” she pleaded, “I have to go see my staff.”
The big man gently arranged her hair on the pillow and then rolled her nipples in his fingers, squeezing them softly, and ran his finger down the midline of her body to her navel and her pussy, again squeezing her pussy with his cupped hand, saying “What a nice little pussy.”
“Come on, sir, please leave me alone,” Rachel pleaded, as he moved all ten of his wiggling fingers toward her armpits, “No, aaah, no, please, I’m tihihihiklish, ha-ha-ha-ha!”
He tickled her armpits thoroughly as Rachel rolled from side to side, straining against the wrist and ankle cuffs holding her at the corners of the bed, her long hair falling across her face as she struggled.
“Well,” he taunted, “somebody is ticklish under her arms. I wonder what would happen if I moved my finger down this way.”
He moved his finger down from her armpit to her ribs, and then started to tickle her ribs on both sides as well as the area below her breasts. Rachel screamed and laughed “dohohohohon’t pleeheeheese, aaaaah” as he proceeded to give her a lengthy and intense tickling along her sides and her chest. Her skin, so thin over her ribs, began to glow a pinkish color and her face started to turn red.
He then targeted her navel and her abdomen above her pubic hair. She howled and bucked as he continued.
“My, my,” he said, “it’s too bad I don’t have a feather for this wonderful little tummy of yours. Wait, I know, I have a Japanese calligraphy pen, a fudo, that will do.”
He took the fudo out of a little bag, and approached her with it, as she pleaded, “No, please, no, I’ll die.”
“All because of a little Japanese pen,” he taunted, “my, you are so weak!” He started to make little circles in her navel as she bucked her stomach up and down to get away from the ticklish sensations. He slowly stroked the fudo across her abdomen, in the line that ran all the way across just above her pubic hair. He then stroked the fudo over her nipples, around the hollow under her arms, back to her nipples, and back to her navel.
“Shit,” she screamed, “fuck you-hoo-hoo-hoo.”
He stroked the fudo over the front of her thighs from below her pussy to her knees, moving it around her knees from front to back, and then back up to the top.
“Fuhuhuhuck you-hoo-hoo! You’re kihihihilling me!”
“My God,’ he teased, “such language from a beautiful girl. How are you ever going to get married with a mouth like that?”
He moved down to the foot end of the bed and sat down on a chair by her left foot. She raised her head to see what he was doing. He teased her with his wiggling fingers near the instep of her foot.
“What about your little feet here,” he taunted, “are they as ticklish as the rest of you?”
“No, God no, please,” she pleaded, as his wiggling fingers neared her feet, “not my fee-hee-heet. Aaaaaah-ha-ha-haaa.”
After a minute or so of gently tickling the sole of her left foot, and another minute of tickling the right, he stopped.
“Well,” he said to her, “I think we’ve found a very nice place to tickle on these delicious little feet of yours.”
“Please, no,” she cried, as he leaned down and kissed her left foot, “I can’t stand it there!”
As she looked in horror, he flicked his tongue at her while approaching the toes of her left foot.
“Aaaaah, nooooo!” she screamed and pleaded.
He licked and tickled all of the toes on her left foot, and then did the same with the right. While he was licking her toes, he also tickled the sole of each foot with his fingers. Rachel rolled around and pulled at her restraints as the tickling continued.
Next, the man stroked the fudo along the top of each foot and leg from her toes to the top of her thighs, alternately returning to her foot down the inside or outside of each leg. After a few minutes of this treatment, he reached into his little bag and pulled out two toe separators of the sort women use when coloring their toenails. He placed these in between her toes tightly so that the movement of her feet would not dislodge them. Next, he brought out an electric hummingbird tooth cleaner with its little rotating tip. He showed the device to her as he turned it on.
“No, no, please,” she pleaded, as she saw the implement moving toward her toes.
He lightly touched that part of the ball of her foot below the point where the toes joined it. He moved it from place to place, from side to side, as she screamed and swore at him, holding her foot firmly between the fingers and thumb of his other hand. Again, tickling both of her feet this way, as well as moving to the sole of each foot where the little crevice in the ball of her foot and the soft instep came together.
When he had enough of this treatment with the toothbrush, he tickled in between all of her toes with the fudo. She struggled and screamed, but she could not bring her toes together because of the toe separators he had applied earlier.
“Shit,” she screamed, ‘are you crazy! Not between my toes, aaaaaah!”
After a while, he moved back up to her abdomen. He again circled her navel with the fudo and crossed her abdomen along the line that was there.
“And now for your hotspots,” he teased, as he wiggled her fingers along the crease where her thighs met her abdomen. He also used the fudo from one end of this crease to the other, moving further and further down between her legs along the very sensitive skin on both sides of her pussy and eventually to the delicate areas of her ass only slightly below.
Rachel screamed, laughed, swore and struggled as the tickling torture with the fudo continued on the most sensitive parts of her body. She almost leapt off the bed, ties and all, when the man touched her asshole and the surrounding areas with the electric hummingbird.
By now, an hour or more had passed, and Rachel was exhausted. She was sweaty, her hair was all over her face adhering to the perspiration, her nipples were as hard as they could be, and she struggled to catch her breath. Inside her private areas, she was as wet as she had ever been. She rolled her head from side to side, breathing deeply and moaning softly from the arousal she now felt.
“How do you feel?” the man asked her, “Are you aroused? Do you want me to finish it for you?”
“Aaaah, what have you done to me?!” she exclaimed.
He reached down to the area in between her legs and gently rolled the little clitoris between his fingers. He then kissed it gently and he ran his tongue along the outside of her pussy. He came back up to her face and kissed her on her lips, as he continued to manipulate her clitoris and her pussy.
As she moaned and rolled her head from side to side, he slowly and carefully brought her to an intense orgasm with his experienced hand. After her orgasm had gone through its climax several times, she closed her eyes and passed out.
When she awakened the following morning, the sun was shining brightly through the windows of her hotel room. She had slept on her tummy and the blankets covered her completely up to her neck. Beneath the blankets she was naked except for her light blue panties.
“What happened,” she asked herself, “did I dream all that?”
Then she noticed the fudo and a sheet of paper near the vase of flowers on the table near the window. The note simply said ‘Thankyou, until we meet again, little one!’
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