ATTENTION READERS: My services as a writer are now available for any tickling enthusiasts wanting their own ideas, fantasies, turn-ons, etc. put to print. Just contact me through The Library with your requests and I’ll give you a quote.

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WARNING! THIS IS A WORK OF EROTIC FICTION. IT IS ADULT ORIENTED MATERIAL

OF A SEXUAL NATURE. The copyright of this story remains with the author, Night Owl. This

posting does not give you the rights to post this on any website. You must obtain the

author's permission prior to posting.

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Master Chen Fu Shek and the Beauty Queen

By Night Owl

(Story Content: M/f, Abduction, Bondage, Intense Tickle Torture, NC)

Part 1

Kelly McCorkle didn't notice the dark van as she left the hotel and hopped on the bus to Statue Square - the same van that had been following her since she arrived in Hong Kong. She also didn't see the man snapping photos of her and Ron when they first arrived at the airport. Even if she had, she would have thought little of it. Being somewhat of a celebrity, she was used to the attention from the paparazzi.

Hong Kong was one of a dozen countries Kelly had visited the last two years. Ron Young, her longtime boyfriend and ex-Army pilot, was also a computer genius. As an independent communications consultant, large banks and other corporations often sent him to Tokyo, Geneva, and other countries all over the world to set up complex computer networks. This meant the attractive couple could enjoy their passion for travel and adventure. But lately, their relationship seemed to be heading down an emotional roller coaster. It could be argued that Ron was a workaholic, or that Kelly, being as demanding and opinionated as she was, might have been the reason why he spent so much time away instead of at home with her. For whatever reason, their days as a couple seemed numbered, and this trip would, most-likely be their last together.

Kelly's determination had always been a part of her life. After being treated for a horrible stutter as a girl, she excelled in school and graduated cum laude from North Greenville College. She was then crowned Miss South Carolina at age 22, and went on to the top 15 in the Miss America pageant. Using her celebrity status and pageant skills, she became a spokeswoman for speech and learning disabilities.

Ron was a big fan of the movie "Top Gun" when he was a boy, so it was no surprise to his family that he ended up joining the army after college to become a pilot. He flew Apache helicopters in the Iraq War where he was shot down, captured, interrogated, and later rescued by the United States Marines. Following his rescue, Ron returned to the U.S. and was introduced to the reigning Miss South Carolina. That was four years ago and the two had been an item ever since.

Ron was already at work the morning she decided to take that bus to Statue Square to see some of the sites, and he most likely would not be home until late. Freshly showered and wrapped in a towel, Kelly stood in front of the mirrored closet, pondering what to wear. Sassy, conservative, sexy - what was it to be? She finally decided on sexy, and chose a pink spaghetti string tank that plunged deep between her firm, ample breasts, a pair of cargo shorts that showed off her long, shapely legs and white tennis shoes for comfort. Having cared for her "outer pleasure", Kelly moved across the hotel room to the mirrored dresser. Soft, silky and alluring was what her emotions told her for undergarments, so she picked a sheer strapless bra and matching g-string. Kelly had just purchased them as a surprise for Ron, but since he was preoccupied with his job, she decided to try out her "special" under things on the busy streets of Hong Kong instead. After getting dressed, she quickly brushed through her dark hair and put on some lipstick, then checked herself in the mirror.

"Gorgeous," she blew a kiss to her reflection. Her only regret was that she didn't get a chance to work on a tan before she left the states. "I'll look like a ghost out there," she frowned at the sight of her fair skin, then gave the thought a shrug and grabbed her purse.

In front of the hotel, the van sat nearby with two Asian men watching Kelly intently from inside. One of them pulled out a walkie-talkie as she boarded the bus and said something in Cantonese. As her bus left, the van followed.

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Hong Kong in the new 21st century was frequently described as a city where East met the West -- a meeting reflected in its economic infrastructure, education, legal system and street culture. On one street corner, there could be traditional Chinese shops selling Oriental herbal medicines, Buddhist paraphernalia, or bowls of synthetic shark fin soup; then on another corner, one may have found a theater showing the latest Hollywood blockbuster, a Catholic Church, a British-style pub or McDonald's restaurant inviting passer-bys to a Big Mac. The relentless drive of the place made it one of the most exciting cities in Asia. Even Tokyo seemed sleepy in comparison. A two-minute walk from the bustle of Central revealed a harbor view that the architectural boom of the 1980s and 1990s had turned into a mixture of Manhattan and San Francisco, with added shipping bustle, and at night, a playground for wealthy jet-setters seeking adventure.

Kelly got off at Statue Square and wandered past to the colonial remnant of St. John's Cathedral. Flocks of Filipina and Indonesian housemaids were taking time out from their employers to chatter and picnic in the square. She spent most of the morning browsing through the shops nearby. The tall, leggy fair-skinned brunette dressed in shorts and a pink top stood out conspicuously in the mostly Asian crowd, making it easy for the men in the van to follow her while keeping a safe distance. They waited patiently until she turned a corner and headed down a less populated street. The leader with the walkie-talkie then gave the final order as the van sped up.

When Kelly first noticed the van behind her, she felt in her gut that something was wrong, then she saw two more men approaching her on foot and nearly panicked. Instinctively, she turned off the street, only to find herself in an alley. The men followed. She quickened her pace with the hope that the alley would take her to the next street over. Suddenly, a third man appeared from a doorway. He said something in a language Kelly couldn't understand and grabbed her arms, but she broke away and took off in a run with her pursuers closed behind.

Kelly ran blindly down one narrow alley, then another. The former beauty queen had kept herself in shape by jogging every morning, and she surprised the men with her speed. The chase was short-lived though when she found herself facing an 8-foot wall blocking her way. Like a frightened gazelle, Kelly leaped for the wall, then by clawing at the textured surface with her feet, she managed to swing one long leg over the top. She began pulling herself over, when suddenly, a pair of hands grabbed her other leg. Kelly tried to scream, but she was too winded from the run. She felt another pair of hands groping for the same leg.  The purse was ripped from her shoulder. She slid down the wall and all three fell backward in a heap.

The third man barked orders to the other two as they rolled her over onto her stomach. She grunted as one the men placed a knee on her spine, crushing her breasts underneath her as he leaned forward. Her arms were wrenched painfully behind her back and bound together at the wrists with a plastic cord. Kelly tried again to scream again, and almost choked when she breathed in a mouthful of dust. Her ankles were pulled up to her wrists and tied together, forcing her body into a loose hogtie. The van appeared from nowhere and backed into the alley. A hood was pulled over her head, then all four men lifted Kelly by her arms and legs and threw her into the back of the vehicle.

The van drove for another fifteen minutes or so, but it was a psychological eternity for Kelly, who was languishing in the stifling heat inside, her bound body rocking helplessly from side to side with each bump and turn. Finally, the vehicle pulled to a stop and she heard the sound of the rear door being opened. She felt hands, strong hands, grabbing her by the armpits and dragging her out of the van. The sensation made Kelly nervous. She could feel nothing below her in the darkness of the hood, as though she were about to fall into the black, empty abyss. Thankfully, a second pair of hands grabbed her ankles and she was, once again, carried away.

When the bindings and the hood finally came off, she found herself in the loading dock of what appeared to be an old warehouse. She was whisked down a dark stairway, then through a long, narrow corridor to a door at the very end. They burst into the room where she was forced to kneel down on the cold, gritty floor. One of her kidnappers knocked on another door directly in front of her, and then entered. There were voices in Cantonese coming from on the other room. Finally, the door opened again and the first man re-emerged, followed by a very exotic-looking Asian couple.

The woman was young and attractive. She wore a long sleeveless dress made of bright red silk brocade with a high Mandarin collar. A sexy teardrop hole at the bust showed off just enough of her cleavage without detracting from the elegance of the outfit.

The man looked to be in his late forties. His face was thin and finely chiseled. He was draped in a long robe made of heavy red silk, decorated with gold patterns in the shapes of dragons and tied off with a gold sash. His long hair was braided in the back with a square cap covering his head. As he stood before her with his arms crossed, Kelly noticed his fingernails were very long and manicured to sharp points at the ends. He held out one hand and motioned his guards to bring their captive closer. Kelly struggled but she was unable to break away from their grip.

"My name is Chen Fu Shek," his English was almost perfect, "and this is Soon-Lee, my assistant. I am the Head Master of Interrogation with the Te-Wu, or Red Chinese Secret Police, as we are known to your CIA."

"Secret Police? A-am I under arrest?"

"No you are not," offering no further explanation; he snapped his fingers and the two guards dragged Kelly to her feet. She was trembling now, with her arms slightly apart as the guards held her steady by the wrists. Master Chen circled slowly to assess his new prisoner's physical attributes. 

Her brown hair framed her face like a lion's mane; her smooth skin was light as porcelain. The stringy top hugged her firm breasts as if it were a second skin, allowing the onlooker a hint of the treasures beneath; the shorts showed off a generous portion of leg. Her dainty feet were shoeless - the only article of clothing missing since her abduction. All in all, she was quite a sight to behold. The Master nodded his head in approval.

"Look . . . I'm an American citizen," Kelly blurted out again, "and if you think this will go unnoticed, then you're crazy!"

The Head Master frowned at this. Americans were so arrogant, he thought, always demanding respect simply because of who they were. This one's outburst sounded more like a desperate plea than anything else, but nonetheless, it required some discipline. He spoke to one of the guards in Cantonese, and the brute immediately grabbed a fistful of the girl's hair and yanked her backward so violently, that it nearly knocked her off her feet.

"In our country a woman knows when to speak, and when to keep her mouth shut," he lectured her. "Considering your situation, it would be very wise to remember this. As for your nationality, the fact that you are from the U.S. does not impress me even in the least. Pretty women disappear every year in Hong Kong, women from many countries, even from the west. Of course, the police will conduct their search. There will also be an investigation, and your American ambassador will voice his displeasure, but all of this will accomplish nothing. No one will find you down here. In a short time, they will give up their efforts, as will your government . . . and your male companion."

He studied the girl's reaction closely. The mask of outrage on her face quickly melted into despair as the reality of her abduction finally began to sink in. Her body slumped, forcing the two guards to take a second hold of her just below the armpits, which the Chinaman noticed, were smooth, deep and perspiring just a little -- yes, very luscious indeed! He stared at them admiringly for a moment, then turned to his attractive assistant who was standing nearby.

"Make the necessary preparations," he spoke to her in Cantonese. "I want to start on this one immediately."

"Yes, Sifu," the woman bowed her head then moved quietly to another part of the room.

The Head Master ordered the guards to pull Kelly down to the floor again, forcing her to kneel before him with her raised arms still locked in their hands.

"Please," she begged. "Please, just let me go. I . . . I won't say anything. I promise." 

He said nothing, but merely grinned. His dark eyes darted to her opened armpits one last time, then he turned and left the room.

Suddenly, a cloth was pressed tightly over Kelly’s mouth from behind. A sweet scent that she couldn't quite recognize filled her nostrils. She tried to wrench her arms away from the guards, but their grip was painfully tight now.

"Do not resist," Soon-Lee whispered to her ear in broken English, "you must sleep now."

Kelly felt dizzy and very hot. Her eyes fluttered. Surrendering to the forced slumber, she felt her body go completely limp, then finally, darkness enveloped her as she crumpled to the floor.

(Continued)

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

WARNING! THIS IS A WORK OF EROTIC FICTION. IT IS ADULT ORIENTED MATERIAL

OF A SEXUAL NATURE. The copyright of this story remains with the author, Night Owl. This

posting does not give you the rights to post this on any website. You must obtain the

author's permission prior to posting.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Master Chen Fu Shek and the Beauty Queen

By Night Owl

(Story Content: M/f, Abduction, Bondage, Intense Tickle Torture, NC)

Part 2

Awakening, Kelly became aware of her surroundings slowly. The darkness started to recede. Her head throbbed, unbelievably so. She could still smell that strange, sweet odor from the rag and its after effects made her feel dizzy again.

Where am I?

After gathering her wits, it didn't take long to realize what had happened to her since she passed out. First, she noticed that someone had removed all of her clothes, and second, that she was lying on a long wooden table. She felt the pull of her restraints next – her arms stretched over her head and cuffed together to some kind of metal extension arm; her feet also cuffed to another extension on the other end, keeping her body drawn tightly across the table.

Kelly tried to remain calm enough to take stock of her situation. She tested the restraints by twisting her arms and legs, but they wouldn't give an inch. The leather cuffs were thickly padded, allowing them to be tightened securely around the wrists and ankles without injuring them or cutting off their circulation. The room itself appeared to be some kind of a cellar. There was a dank, earthy smell, and no windows, only a single door off to her left. A single bulb hung down from the ceiling above her. It bathed her nude form in its warm glow, but unfortunately, not enough to shield her from the chilled, damp air. With some effort, Kelly managed to lift her head up off the table. She drew a gasp when she saw herself. Not only was she stripped of all her clothes, but someone had also taken the time to meticulously shave off all the hair between her legs. She stared in wide-eyed disbelief at the sight of her bald pubis, now as smooth as the day she was born. Dizziness suddenly overcame her again, forcing her head to drop back heavily onto the table.

There was nothing to do now, but wait, which seemed like hours until Head Master Chen Fu Shek finally made his entrance through the single door. He walked to the head of the table and peered down at his new captive with a sinister smile.

"Are you comfortable, my dear?" he inquired. "If my associates performed their tasks properly, you should be quite helpless, but in no real discomfort."

"W-why am I tied up like this?" Kelly asked him nervously, though she wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"This is how I begin all of my interrogations," he said, "by stripping the prisoner, then stretching and binding the limbs like so for optimum exposure of the body."

He studied her reactions closely. She was already beginning to sweat under the arms a little, and he could smell the fear building within her. The scent was intoxicating.

"P-please," she begged, "don't hurt me . . ."

"Hurt you?" he laughed. "Certainly not. I do not torture my prisoners -- at least not in the traditional sense. No, you are much too fine a specimen for such crude brutality. My methods of persuasion are more subtle, but I assure you, they can be just as unbearable as the whip."

"T-this has to be a mistake! I . . . I don't know anything!"

"Of course you don't, my dear. You were not brought here to answer questions, but for my own pleasure."

The Master Interrogator circled the table and checked each restraint. His assistant, Soon-Lee had done well in preparing the girl. Indeed, her entire form was like a living tableau of helpless female flesh. Her arms were extended past her head, exposing those smooth, moist pits. Her delicate ribs protruded from the plain of her stomach, her breasts rising and falling with each ragged breath. He inspected the smooth mound of flesh between her legs without touching it and was satisfied that the area had been shaved completely.

"Mmmmm, yes," he nodded with approval. "This will do very well for what I have planned."

He moved to the end of the table. A wicked smile then came to his thin lips as his gaze beheld her lovely feet. Her perfect red toenails glistened in the dim light, and the delicate bridge between her soles and heals looked especially inviting.

"W-what are you going to do?"

"Patience, my pet. You will find out very soon."

He took an elaborate gold pipe out of his robe, then put it to his mouth and lit the bowl, which was shaped like a dragon's head. 

"This is an ancient strain of opium I keep for just such occasions. It relaxes inhibitions, yet heightens the tactile senses. It also induces spells of involuntary laughter that I find most entertaining."

He stoked the pipe until a halo of smoke surrounded his head, then he bent down, and through the golden dragon's mouth, expelled a thick stream of intoxicating smoke into Kelly's face.

The smoke caught her off guard and she coughed trying to catch her breath. In a matter of moments she could feel herself becoming light-headed. When he blew another thick cloud, she breathed it in freely. She was totally relaxed now. All tension seemed to drift away and a wave of giddiness swept over her. Although her situation was far from amusing, she began to feel an overwhelming urge to laugh.

The Master took one hit for himself and placed the pipe on a tray near the table, then stepped out of her field of vision. Kelly could hear him moving about but she couldn't see what the Chinaman was up to. 

"Wha . . . whaaaat are you doing? She stammered.

"I'm preparing my instruments."

"Are you going to play me a song?" she giggled.

"No, I'm going torture you, my dear."

"Oh yeah. Go ahead then, 'cause I'm feelin' no pain."

"Good. That means we are ready to begin."

He walked to the table and held his hands up where his pretty captive could see them. Perched between his long fingers, were two dark, wispy goose feathers, one for each hand. Kelly gasped when she saw them. She sobered up immediately, then instinctively tried to bring her arms down, but her hands only jerked helplessly against the unyielding restraints.

"You fear these," he said, twirling the supple plumes with a flourish in front of her unblinking eyes. "As you should, my dear. A single feather dragged ever-so-lightly against the skin can produce the most unbearable results for one who is so ticklish."

He circled the table slowly and as he did this, he made a speech.

"I have a history lesson for you, my pet. Something for your pretty mind to ponder on before we begin. In ancient China, tickling was often used as a form of execution for unfaithful wives -- a crime considered most unthinkable among the aristocracy. Guests were usually invited to watch the spectacle. After a large feast, the wretched creature would be dragged into the room, stripped of her Hanfu, then suspended naked upside down with each arm bound to a stake to immobilize her, stretching her limbs. The punishment was usually carried out by another woman, in some cases, more than one, all specially trained in the art of tickling. At first, the victim would squirm and laugh, then as the tickling grew more intense, pain would set in, replacing the laughter. The husband and his guests would often place wagers on how long the doomed woman should survive the ordeal. The tickling was non-stop, and would not cease until her diaphragm, and sometimes, even her heart collapsed, due to the continuous, involuntary motion of the muscles. Sometimes the victim would be suspended by the wrists with the legs left unrestrained so the body could move freely. This method was often used as a form of sexual entertainment among Chinese nobility, usually with a beautiful, young peasant girl brought in as the unwilling recipient."

Kelly's eyes were as large as saucers. His words struck a fear in her worse than the thoughts of rape and torture she dreaded earlier. She had always been terribly ticklish. It was the one thing that she just couldn't tolerate. Her mind began to flash images of all the times her own ticklishness had betrayed her – an outburst of laughter at the doctor's office during an abdominal exam; an appointment with a masseuse that had to be canceled abruptly because she could not bare the touch of someone else’s hands; the manicurist she accidentally kicked during her last pedicure. Now, this evil-looking man was holding two feathers, only inches from her body, and talking about torturing her with the damn things. Poor Kelly was terror-struck.

Master Chen paused a moment to let her anticipation build. Tickling was not only an art form, it was also a science. Its mental aspects as well as the actual physical contact had to be coordinated carefully to achieve the optimum effect. Holding the two feathers in front of her again, he carefully planned his first line of attack, and then slowly lowered his hands.

"No please, wait! No . . . STOP!"

Kelly squeezed her eyes together and gasped as he placed the feathers against her wrists, and dragged them lightly down her arms. When the feathers reached her armpits, Kelly's reaction was immediate and un-suppressible. She squealed out in peels of helpless schoolgirl laughter, her delicate limbs jerked helplessly against the leather restraints, but there was no escaping the constant, unmerciful strokes. The Master skillfully traced the deep hollows under her arms then dipped the feather tips into the centers of her moist, warm flesh.

"At first, it is almost amusing, isn't it?" he teased.

"Noooo . . . S-STOP . . ." Kelly protested through spasms of escalating laughter.

For a moment, he focused all his attention on her arms, swirling the flowing dark plumes up and down her pits like an artist working on canvas, then he dragged them down to the sides of her breasts and back up her arms again in a slow steady rhythm, again and again. Kelly jerked and twisted against the table in response. Her lovely, full breasts swayed from side to side as they tried to keep up with her writhing. The feathers trailed down her sides and traced the soft contours of her ribs. Laughter shook her violently, robbing her of any ability to speak. The pores of her trembling flesh opened up, creating a soft sheen of sweat all over her body. Her flowing mane of silky dark hair whisked about, nearly covering her face. Master Chen dragged his feathers up the outer curves her breasts again. He circled them slowly, with each rotation closing in on her nipples. His eyes gleamed with delight as the pink buds of flesh hardened to the size of freshly picked raspberries. He teased her firm, ripe breasts for what seemed to her an eternity before stopping a moment to give her depleted lungs a chance to get some air.

"I am very proficient at this, am I not?"

Kelly said nothing, but merely lay there gasping.

He reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out two more identical feathers. Holding a pair in each hand, he placed them carefully on her nipples, positioning each firm, succulent bud between the two quills, and then he moved the feathers in a gentle sawing motion. The girl went wild, screaming frantically in spasms of giddy laughter as the edges of the feathers tormented her nipples in a slow, steady, methodical rhythm.

"Is it pain, or is it pleasure? That is the beauty of tickle torture. The sense of touch is like a fickle mistress. It will always betray you."

He swirled all four feathers around her breasts, then gave her armpits another lesson in unmerciful, non-ending ticklishness.

"I have tortured many prisoners on this table," he said, "usually to retrieve some information for the Te-Wu, or perhaps, elicit a confession. In every case, my use of tickling has been very effective in achieving those results. Almost too effective, to my disappointment. Quite often my victims would break down very early in the session, or 'spill their guts' as you Americans say, thus, leaving me somewhat unfulfilled by the experience. So it is a rare opportunity that I get to apply my craft without interruption, and of course, to have such a lovely adversary as my captive."

"P . . . please . . .!”

Kelly tried to speak, then broke into another series of gut-wrenching laughter, her taut belly dipping well-below the rise of her rib cage as he swirled the feathers around her navel.

"Ahhhh, you are very ticklish here, I must remember this," he laughed, and spent several long, agonizing minutes tickling her quivering abdominal muscles before dragging the feathers back to her breasts.

"Together, you and I are going to explore every inch of flesh, and as we discover your most sensitive spots, we will exploit them in ways you have never experienced before, pushing you, both physically and mentally, to the very limits of what a human being can endure."

When he finally removed the feathers from her breasts, Kelly sighed and coughed in relief as she gasped for breaths through the after shocks of giggling. She didn't even notice Master Chen moving silently to the other table. He set the feathers down neatly in a row, then selected a large calligraphy brush from his collection and held its tapered horsehair tip up so she could see it.

"No please! Don't please. No more. I beg you!"

"Oh, but I must," he twirled the bamboo brush handle between his fingers. "We have so very little time and so much yet to explore -- like this lovely navel of yours, for instance. How deep and inviting it is!"

"Nooooo . . . pleassssse . . .!”

Her stomach trembled as he lowered the fleecy tip into her bellybutton. Her pleas turned to giggles, and Kelly tried to roll her body away, but The Master Tickler merely pressed his forearm into her pelvis to keep her steady, then took the brush again and drilled the course hairs into the depths of her navel while she squirmed in ticklish agony.

"P-please . . . N-n-no more. Oh . . . G-GOD, I'm BEGGING you . . . pla . . . please . . .," her voice was barely a whisper.

He moved the brush to her nipples and traced the pebbled flesh lightly with its fiendish tip. It was maddening having to endure such titillation with her arms pinned down, rendering them useless as a means of defending herself. She moaned and squirmed as he ground the horsehairs into each swollen nub, touching off hundreds, if not thousands of nerve endings there.

Suddenly, he abandoned the brush, but without giving Kelly a chance to catch her breath, placed his hands on her sides and began probing her lower rib cage with his long, sharp fingernails. Tears of ticklish frustration streamed from her eyes. Her vision blurred, her chest heaved for air. She tried to beg for mercy, but could not formulate any words as the feather-light touches wiggled up the sides of her breasts.

For the first time, Master Chen felt her flesh beneath his hands and it excited him. His cock stiffened and his head swirled with rapturous delight. He poked, prodded, and lightly scratched the soft flesh of her breasts with his long nails, then wormed his fingers into her armpits and teased them relentlessly with all ten digits. Her laughter grew wilder. Her body jerked violently on the table, her lovely ass slapping shamelessly against the hard wood surface.

"Pleeeeeese . . . oh . . . PLE-HE-HE-HE-HEEEEESE!"

Kelly was sure she was going to die. Her sides hurt terribly and it felt like every blood vessel in her head would burst all at once if she had to endure any more tickling. The Master showed no signs of slowing down though. He skillfully worked his fingers around her ribs and tummy like a pianist lost in some concerto. Her smooth, creamy skin was now marked with red rashes from the endless scratching of his nails. He attacked her abdominals again, and suddenly she was plagued with fits of silent, gut-wrenching laughter due the lack of oxygen in her lungs.

Then just as Kelly felt she might faint, the tickling stopped.

"It is time for both of us to rest awhile,” he said, and continued to speak while massaging his tired fingers.

“As you have seen, my methods of torture can be very effective. The art of tickling has been used and perfected within my family for six generations. I first witnessed the gift when I was just a boy. My grandfather ran a brothel in old Shang-hi. One day I heard laughter coming from the cellar, so I went to investigate. I was only ten, but I still remember the vision clearly to this day. There I saw my grandfather disciplining one of his girls - for what, I do not know, but her offense must have been serious. She was strapped to a table much like the one you are now lying on. Her silk kimono robe had been undone and left wide open to expose her body. I had never seen a woman in the flesh until that day, and I was quite taken by her beauty. As I hid in the shadows, he tickled every square inch of her helpless naked form. She filled the cellar rooms with the sounds of painful laughter, and shrieked, unable to catch her breath. He would let her rest every now and then, and listen to her hysterical pleas for mercy while selecting a new implement before resuming the torture. I watched, fascinated, for how long, I do not know. After what seemed like hours of prolonged tickling, the girl finally became still. I thought he had killed her. In my fear, I stumbled over some crates and was discovered. I thought my grandfather would be furious, but instead, he laughed and motioned me into the room.

"'Here,' he handed me a brush tipped with boars hair, 'you must learn some time, grandson, if you are to continue the line.'

"He positioned me at her bare feet, then revived the girl. I remember the sounds of her laughter. I remember how her feet jerked and squirmed against the brush. I believe that was the very first time I felt sexually aroused by the sight of a woman.

“’You have the gift,’ my grandfather told me.

“Under his expert tutelage, I became proficient in the art of tickle torture. He taught me everything he knew, as he did for my father, of whom I learned much later, used to practice his skills on my mother almost nightly while I was fast asleep in the next room. Finally, at the age of seventeen, I became disciplinarian at my grandfather's brothel."

After finishing the story, Master Chen Fu Shek moved around the table to the extension arm where Kelly's feet had been restrained. He turned a latch underneath, splitting the arm in two, and moved one half to the side, then the other, stretching her long legs into a V before locking them in place. Kelly felt the cool air rush in between her thighs, and the fact that all the hair had been shaved off down there made her feel even more vulnerable. The Chinaman inspected the flower of her sex and laughed out loud. Her smooth, pink folds were flushed and dripping with her arousal.

"Mmmmmmmm, it seems you have been enjoying this more than you would care to admit."

He moved to the head of the table and adjusted the extensions to her arms in the same way so that her body was now spread-eagled. This deepened the curvature of her underarms, and once again, the sounds of painful laughter filled the room as he dug his fingernails into her naked pits. The next few minutes were agonizing. His fingers danced and prodded around her breasts, across her belly and ribs, then back up to her arms for another dose of tickling before giving her a break. As Kelly lay there sweating and gasping for breath, he brought his nose down to one armpit and inhaled her scent as if he were sniffing the cork of a fine wine.

"Excellent," he sighed, then tasted her salty flesh with his tongue. "Not only does a woman's sweat serve as an excellent lubricant, it also creates a perfectly intoxicating bouquet to the senses."

He slithered his long snake-like tongue around both pits, then over her ribs and breasts, leaving trails of saliva to mingle with her sweat. Kelly arched her back and drew a heated sigh as he took each nipple into his mouth. He suckled them, gently nibbled on them with his sharp teeth until her nubs swelled and turned a rosy pink. Kelly's breathing melted into quiet moans, the pleasure building inside her. Suddenly, the biting stopped.

Her mind was still swimming as he moved to the foot of table and positioned himself between her legs, and then slowly brought his hands up to her feet.

"N-no!" Her eyes snapped open.

"You have the feet of a Goddess," he teased. "Perfect in shape and form . . . the satin-smooth flesh . . . the deep arch between the toes and soles . . . very exquisite."

"Oh PLEASE . . .” Her toes wiggled helplessly in the cool basement air. Her feet jerked helplessly against the padded restraints. Kelly was in a deathly panic, her pulse and her mind racing. “Please no . . . not there!”

"Oh yes, especially your feet. Foot tickling is my own special passion. It's rare that I get a pair of perfect pallets such as yours on which to practice my art."

"I'm begging you . . . NO . . . not my fffffeeee-He-He-He-Heeeet . . ."

Her pleas trailed off into helpless giggling as he dragged his fingernails up and down the tender undersides of both feet. Kelly had always been deathly ticklish there, in fact, the Chinaman seemed to know all of her 'hot spots' very intimately. The sensations shot out from the nerves at her feet like bolts of lightning as he wiggled his fingers between her heels and soles. She burst into uncontrollable whoops of laughter; her ass rocketed off the surface of the wooden table, and her naked body contorted into wild gyrations of ticklish agony.

"Oh GODDDDDD! She wailed, half-laughing, half-crying. "PLEEEE-he-heeezzzzz . . . SSSSSTOP!"

Master Chen stood poised between her legs, his long dexterous fingers clawing at her feet.

"Who would guess that such an innocent act could be used for torture?" he bellowed over her laughter. "It is quite evident that we have found another sensitive spot here, and very, very ticklish -- all the more pleasure for a foot fetishist."

Kelly howled in great laughing protests as he dug his fingernails under her toes. Her feet jerked violently against the restraints, her toes flexed and fanned, pawing the air in spastic gyrations. This delighted The Master to no end. He buried his fingernails into the tender bridges of her feet. Her smooth crotch was wide open to him, the flower of her sex exposed, and he watched with lust and admiration as she squirmed in front of him.

"Your endurance is impressive," he remarked with a measure of excitement. "I've had my pretty assistant, Soon-Lee, on this table many times, and she has not been able to endure half of the treatment you have experienced so far."

Wild helpless laughter was her only response. All that she had been subjected to before was nothing compared to these insidious attacks on her bare feet. Like spiders, his fingers crawled around the bare flesh of her soles, her toes, and ankles, again and again, for twelve long, horrible minutes. When he finally stopped, her head sagged to one side, her chest, shimmering with sweat, heaved up and down, trying to catch a breath.

"I see the overwhelming agony of having your feet subjected to such persistent tickling has weakened you. Well save you strength, my dear. You will need it again."

"P-please," she gasped, "please stop . . . can't breathe . . . I'll die if . . . if you don't stop . . ."

"I'm sure that will happen eventually, but not just yet. Not yet. Not until I have finished my work. You see, I am an artist, like da Vinci and Michaelangelo, and your body is my blank canvas. The American beauty queen, seduced by the Great Master, skilled in the ancient arts of tickle torture. Our story will inspire generations of ticklers, much like my father's exploits and his father before him have inspired me."

He gave her just a moment or two to collect herself, then moved in closer between her thighs. Up until now, Kelly's lower extremities had been largely ignored with the exception to her feet, but that was about to change. He placed a hand on each ankle, then slowly dragged his long nails up her calves and tickled her behind the knees. Kelly lurched her pelvis upward and slammed her ass back down hard against the table. The Master Tickler smiled. He had found another hot spot. He scratched and wiggled his fingers up her legs and tickled the opened crease where were her inner thighs joined with her pelvis. Yes, very sensitive here, too! Kelly squealed with laughter, twisting and trying to buck the fingers off.

"Your lovely agile body dances with the rhythm of my fingers, my dear. Oh, you don't know how much this pleases me!"

Her inner thighs were the mother of all ticklish spots, so naturally, Master Chen spent a great deal of time there, teasing the smooth flesh around her bald pubis, but without actually touching it. Then suddenly, he released an onslaught of feathery-light touches all over the rest of her body. Her lungs were fully depleted now, her pleas choked by fits of silent laughter, her body convulsing from lack of air. The sinews in her neck stood out visibly, the muscles under her ribs hurt like hell, and it felt like her lungs would explode if he didn't stop. It was a merciful faint that finally rescued Kelly from the ten nails. After her body went limp, the Chinaman grinned and kissed her bare soles, then made preparations for the climax of their session.

---------------------

Chen Fu Shek's plan to steel Kelly away had not been as full-proof as he thought, and while he was busily tormenting this poor girl in his lair, the Hong Kong Police Department had plenty of leads to work with. First, there was an old man that had witnessed the scuffle between the American and the four men in that dark alley. He gave a detailed description of her kidnappers to the police. Both a make of the truck and license number were also provided. In less than an hour, the truck was found with one of the kidnappers caught behind the wheel. He had apparently been under orders to ditch it, but decided to pay a local prostitute a visit first.

Now if this suspect were apprehended in the U.S., it would have taken days to retrieve any information, if anything at all. But in Hong Kong, not only was the prisoner never allowed the right to an attorney, the interrogations were often very brutal compared to American standards. Not surprisingly, it only took a few hours for the police to get all the information they needed from the prisoner -- including who was behind the kidnapping and the location of where Kelly was being held. The girl's boyfriend and the U.S. Embassy were briefed on the recent developments in the case, while three police cruisers and a wagon raced through the crowded streets of Hong Kong to an abandoned warehouse. All everyone could do now, was pray they would not be too late.

(Continued)

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WARNING! THIS IS A WORK OF EROTIC FICTION. IT IS ADULT ORIENTED MATERIAL

OF A SEXUAL NATURE. The copyright of this story remains with the author, Night Owl. This

posting does not give you the rights to post this on any website. You must obtain the

author's permission prior to posting.

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Master Chen Fu Shek and the Beauty Queen

By Night Owl

(Story Content: M/f, Abduction, Bondage, Intense Tickle Torture, NC)

Part 3

A sharp, metallic click echoed off the walls of the cellar as Master Chen Fu Shek turned the ratcheted wheel crank. The two metal extension arms slowly raised the stocks at her feet up and back toward the head of the table. Kelly’s spread knees were now forced to her chest, her ass tilted upward, presenting her smooth, hairless crotch in a compromising fashion.

“Wake up, my dear,” he said, “or you will miss the fireworks.”

Kelly was just coming to as he folded the lower half of the table down. Her eyes grew wide when she noticed the new position her body had been forced into.

"As you can now see, my table has many adjustments, each designed to maximize the exposure to different areas of the body."

Master Chen moved to another part of the room and began sorting through his instruments. While he did this, Kelly tested her wrists in hoping that her struggles might have loosened them from the stocks, but it was no use. Her arms were still pinned above her head. She looked at her raised feet. The whole scene reminded her of an exam at a gynecologist’s office, only this mad Chinaman’s intentions were much more perverse.

He approached the table again and stood right between her elevated feet. He held up his hand. On the end of each finger, was a metal ring that tapered to a razor sharp point at the end.

"These are called The Nails of Wisdom," he said, "each finely crafted with polished sterling silver, and sized to fit the finger precisely."

He gently bent her toes backward with his other hand to tighten the flesh around her arches, then dragged one point down the length of her foot. Kelly reacted instantly, howling out in great gales of helpless laughing protests, her body jerking helplessly against the restraints.

"Yes, quite unbearable isn't it? Now imagine what five dancing nails can do."

He wiggled and scraped the nails up and down each foot for ten agonizing minutes, then spread her toes apart and tortured them for another ten more. Her delicate pallets were already well-lubricated with her own sweat, allowing the jeweled claws to glide effortlessly along her glistening flesh. Kelly thought she was slowly losing her mind. This lunatic might just as well have been extinguishing a lit cigarette on her tender soles, and at this point, she would have preferred that instead. At least she could take the pain with some dignity, but tickling she had no control over. Like a schoolgirl, she screamed in wails of high-pitched laughter, the maddening sensations matched only by the humiliation of knowing that she was speeding closer and closer to a very intense climax. It was unbearably torturous, yet strangely exciting - and he hadn't even touched her 'down there' yet!

Her feet twitched wildly as the scratching sensations lingered in her soles. Her laughter accelerated to a wheezing rhythm of desperate gasps for breath. Her feet gyrated and the muscles in her upper thighs and pelvic region flexed reactively until they ached. The affects of the nails became obvious to Master Chen after about 10 minutes. He paused often during this torture, keeping any relief of an orgasm for the girl just out of reach.

While Kelly sobbed, crazed in a paradox of pain and pleasure, he redirected his attentions to her pouting loins. His assistant, Soon-Lee, had done well in prepping this one. The dark soft curls that had once covered her pubis were completely gone now, leaving a valley of smooth flesh from her vagina to that lovely, puckered hole in her ass. Selecting an ostrich plume and a peacock feather, he began teasing her from the backs of her knees to her open thighs, just short of the target, he fluttered the fleecy tip as she giggled frantically.

"Plea-please! Ssstop! I-I'm going mad!" Kelly was lost in orgasmic hell, "Oh God . . . PLEASE!"

Finally, he took the two calligraphy brushes again and teased both 'holes' simultaneously.

"Every nerve in your flesh has been awakened," he told her. "Sensation has become reality. You pray for the release of climax, because for the last three hours it has been dangling just out of reach. You have learned how one's own sexuality can be used with the most painful results -- more painful even than the whip."

The Master then lowered his head down between her open thighs, "Now you are mine," he hissed.

--------------------

The police combed the entire warehouse, searching every room, but found no trace of Chen Fu Shek or the girl he kidnapped, Kelly McCorkle. Everyone feared the worst -- that the Chinaman, as cunning and elusive as he was, had somehow been tipped off about the raid, allowing him enough time to whisk his captive off to some other location. Then an alert female officer, discovered a secret door hidden away in a remote part on the lowest level. Behind it, more rooms were searched. In one of them, they found the beautiful assistant Soon-Lee, hanging naked from the ceiling by her wrists. Two of Master Chen's henchmen were tickling the poor girl to the point of hysterics. Her tortured laughter was so loud and distracting, that the two men had been taken completely by surprise and arrested without incident. On a table nearby, were feathers, brushes, and other implements, some completely foreign to the officers, all carefully laid out and ready to be used on the pretty captive. Soon-Lee was still gasping for air and babbling in Cantanese while the female officer untied her wrists and draped a blanket over her trembling body. Whether she had consented to this torture or not couldn't be determined at the moment, so she was rushed back to headquarters with the two suspects for questioning. The search resumed.

--------------------

Kelly craned her head back on the table and whimpered like a new-born pup, as his long, serpent-like tongue darted out to taste her glistening sex. She was on the brink of the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced, or ever hoped to again. Her clit swelled from underneath its hood and the Chinaman attacked it without mercy, slithering his tongue around the shiny, wet pearl. Kelly's heart beat like a drum against her chest. A warmth swept through her body, rivers of fresh sweat flowed out of her open pores. He sucked the whole flower of her sex into his mouth and fluttered his skilled appendage against her clit. Then, the evil madman began scraping his long fingernails against the soles of her feet. Kelly screamed out in hysterics, her feet were like extensions of her sex organs now, and the tickling sensations hurled her over the edge into that dark abyss. Her body rocked, her muscles spasmed, she moaned and giggled uncontrollably between shrieks of ecstasy. Master Chen did not waver, but renewed his attacks by digging his long fingernails in her soles, while thrusting his powerful tongue deeper into her vagina. Kelly could do nothing, but scream. Laughter was simply too tame a reaction for the torturously intense sensations that were erupting from her loins and feet. Another powerful orgasm racked her body, then another. When the Chinaman finally withdrew his attack, she was completely exhausted, but her body was so charged, it would have taken very little to bring her to another climax.

"You are truly the most magnificent specimen I have ever encountered. I have killed women with half of what I have administered to you." He paused to passionately kiss her right foot. "My wife died on our honeymoon. Although she was beautiful and wildly ticklish, she did not have the strength to endure my talents, and I . . . I had not acquired the experience and discipline to know when she truly had enough. Since then, I have been alone.

“Oh I managed to amuse myself with the girls that work in our brothels, but they break so easily. Now my life has changed. You Kelly . . . YOU are the one I have been looking for all these years!"

Chen Fu Shek could not control himself any longer. He opened his satin robe and threw it aside. Although he was in his late-forties, he had the body of a man half his age. His powerful torso flexed as his huge member sprang forth. He stepped up to the table and anxiously adjusted the angle of his steel hard penis to facilitate penetration. Then he slowly slid his pulsating masculinity into her vagina. Kelly groaned with exquisite bliss. When impaled to the hilt, she let out a throaty sigh.

Her yielding loins beckoned him inward. His stroke began slowly, each time withdrawing himself, all but the massive head, then slowly pushing the veiny, muscled organ back in. The pace picked up gradually, until Kelly cried out.

"Oh God, yes . . . FUCK ME!"

At the sound of this, Master Chen lost all restraint. His pelvis slammed into her again and again, his massive testicles slapping against her gaping tush. Her body jerked forward and back again with each violent thrust, her breasts shaking wildly. Gripping the padded stocks, he covered the soles of her tethered feet with wet kisses. She screamed with delight.

Suddenly, the two became one, and they exploded together -- her love canal, clutching and massaging his member as it pumped and filled her womb. They groaned in unison, then both went limp from exhaustion.

--------------------

Two policemen made their way down the hall toward Chen Fu Shek’s interrogation room, their guns drawn.

“Remember,” one of them warned, “they still have the girl, so watch where you shoot. If we lose her to a stray bullet, then it’ll be both our asses!”

--------------------

Kelly came to just as Master Chen lowered the foot of the table back to its original position. He unbuckled the straps around her ankles, then her wrists. Kelly was free, but she was too weak to even move, much less run away.

"Rest my love," he said, while rubbing her tired limbs with his hands, "for we have much more exploring to do. There are many rooms just like this one in my underground sanctum. All equipped with furnishings and implements that only a woman with a true love and tolerance for tickling would appreciate. You are the most magnificently ticklish woman I have ever met. Fate brought you to Hong Kong so we could be together, and I will never let you go. In the day hours, you will be fed the finest foods, wear the finest clothes. You will be bathed, massaged . . . . pampered like a goddess. In the evenings, we will explore my dungeon together. Then you will marry me."

"M . . . marry you?" Kelly whispered, her mind still swimming.

"Yes, and do not think you can resist me. I have methods of persuasion that will make this evening look like choir practice."

He bent down and kissed her on the mouth.

"After we are married, you will bear me a son," he mouthed his words around her lips. "One that I may teach the skills that have been passed down my family for generations. I am all that is left, my dear, sweet Kelly. You and I must ensure that our line will never be severed."

Kelly tried to speak, but she was still too exhausted. Whether it was the effects of the opium she had inhaled earlier, or the long hours of torture that had challenged her, both physically and mentally; darkness began to flood her consciousness. She vaguely remembered the sudden crash at the door behind her; the sounds of splintered wood hitting the floor; of her new Master stepping away from the table, and the look of outrage in his eyes. He shouted something in Cantanese at the unknown intruders. Then everything went black, and the last thing Kelly remembered before she went under, were gunshots.

-------------------

Kelly McCorkle never quite got over that horrible nightmare. She returned to the states with her boyfriend, Ron. Two months later, they separated. She was then treated for nervous exhaustion, and after ninety days, came out of the hospital much improved. Eventually, Kelly got married, had children and lived a happy, normal life, but with a few exceptions. Occasionally, her childhood stutter would come and go for no reason, or sometimes just a touch, as innocent as placing a hand on her shoulder, might send the poor girl cringing and cowering away as though she were being assaulted with a hot poker . . . or a feather.

As for Chen Fu Shek, former Interrogator for the Te-Wu, the world knew nothing of him while he lived, but as reporters uncovered information about his last victim, and that she was a former Miss America contestant, the story spread like wild fire all over the globe, and stayed in the headlines for weeks. Thankfully, Kelly's real name was never released, allowing her some privacy, while Master Chen became a celebrity of sorts. He was "The Mad Chinaman" or "Master Tickler", his lifetime exploits chronicled up to that fatal shoot-out with the Hong Kong police. The death of Chen Fu Shek closed the book on his family history forever, but there would always be the stories, and with a good story, one might inspire generations of followers.

Perhaps in knowing this, the Master's untimely end would not have displeased him after all.

End