Madame  Hortense surveyed her unconscious slave.  He  looked 
so  cute tied helplessly to the bed.  He had been her  slave  for 
almost  five years now and she had actually grown quite  fond  of 
him.   "If  he  would just remember to do his  chores  when  he's 
told!"  she thought to herself.  She really hated to subject  him 
to those torturous tickling sessions, but slaves had to be taught 
their  place.   She raised David's head slightly and  watched  it 
drop  as she released it.  She twitched back David's eyelids;  he 
was  still unconscious.  She tweaked his nipples.   No  response.  
She  pinched  David's toe digging her fingernails deep  into  the 
flesh, but David was so far gone, he didn't even feel the  pinch.  
She  reached into the night stand drawer for the  smelling  salts 
and broke them under David's nostrils.  David's head jerked  back 
and he started to come around.  His poor body was sore, and ached 
from  being tied and tickled for so long.  Madame Hortense smiled 
broadly as David regained consciousness.
     "Wake  up,  love," she sang, "you've been asleep.   Did  you 
enjoy your little nap?"
     "Where am I?" David utter groggily.
     "Oh,  you're  in  your natural habitat,"  she  assured  him.               
     David surveyed his bound condition.  "Madame Hortense, wha-"
     "Are you starting to QUESTION me again?"  she warned.
     "I have given you the day off from your chores, but NOT from 
being tickled," she explained.  "You see, my love, being  tickled 
by me is your fate in life--so enjoy," and she tickled him with a 
flourish.
     David  broke  out into a fit of laughter; he  couldn't  help 
himself.  Madame Hortense was right.  Being her tickle slave  WAS 
his  fate  in life.  AND HE LOVED EVERY TORTUROUS MOMENT  OF  IT!  
Madame Hortense tickled him from head to toe in a flourish,  with 
David laughing uncontrollably.  He was starting to get weary  and 
"tickle-tired"  from this latest session, and his arms  and  legs 
ached  from  being tied to the four-poster for so  long,  but  he 
didn't dare tell his mistress.  He literally grinned and bore it.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...HAHAHAHA...HA...HA...HA...Haaaaaaaa,"    he 
passed  out  again.   Madame Hortense removed  the  scarves  from 
around his hands and feet, allowing his limbs to drop heavily  on 
the  bed.   She  kissed his forehead.  "I  think  I'll  let  your 
rest...for a while," she said.  "Sleep ti-ight."

                              *    *    *

     David lay on the four-poster for about four hours,  drifting 
in and out of consciousness.  All of a sudden, he was awakened by 
the sensation of fingernails dancing on his toes.
     "David," his mistress said in mock whininess.
     David was to weak too answer her.
     "David,"  she  whined again, "I'm tired  of  dominating  you 
today.  Would you please tie me to the four-poster bed and tickle 
me?"
     "Wha--," David said, still groggy, shaking his head.
     Madame  Hortense bent over him and spoke distinctly,  "I  am 
asking you to tie me to the four-poster and tickle me."
     David  looked at his mistress in astonishment.  "You're  not 
serious,"  he said, scarcely believing his ears.  
     "Now,  David," she said stroking his foot, "YOU  know  you'd 
like nothing better than to get back at me for all the times I've 
tickled  you.  I am giving you that opportunity.  I might not  be 
this  generous tomorrow, you know," and she gave him a look  that 
indicated that she WOULDN'T be this generous tomorrow.
     David leaped from the bed, reveling in his new role.  
     "Now  don't get excited!"  she warned.  "I'm  only  allowing 
this because I'm tired, and I did give you the day off.  I'm just 
being generous, so don't lose your head," she said with a pout.  
     Madame  Hortense lay down on the four-poster, arms and  legs 
extended,   looked  up at David and whispered, "Tie  me."   David 
grabbed  the scarves and started to tie Madame  Hortense's  hands 
and  feet.  "No, no, not the scarves!" she admonished  him,  "Use 
the  ropes!   And  tie  them tightly!   I  want  to  enjoy  every 
torturous moment of this."  
     David  got the ropes out of the night table drawer and  tied 
Madame  Hortense's  hands and feet securely to the  bed.   Madame 
Hortense actually seemed to be enjoying her new-found  captivity.  
"Sooo,  this  is what it feels like to be tied up.   I  like  it.  
It's different," she said with a smile.  "So, Master David,  when 
are you going to start tickling me?"
     "Patience,  patience,  my  slave,"  David  admonished   her.  
"Perhaps  I'll  just  leave you suspended here for  a  while  and 
torture you with anticipation."
     "Oh,  master,  you're so cruel," she whined in  mock  agony, 
"why do you torture me so?"
     "You'd do the same to me," he retorted, "and you KNOW it!"
     "Oh please, Master," she cried, really getting into her new-
found  role of subservience, "I know I've been a  cruel  mistress 
but please, do not tickle me.  Have mercy.  I promise to be  more 
lenient in the future.  I'll give you another day off tomorrow." 
     "YOU  are in no position to bargain with me,  you  worthless 
bitch!"   he  snapped.  Remember you VOLUNTEERED for  this  duty!  
Now  you  must  suffer the consequences!  Here,  off  with  these 
sandals!"
     "Oh  my God, you're going to tickle my feet!"   she  gasped,  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"   David  had 
her  sandals  off in no time and was dancing his fingers  up  and 
down  Madame  Hortense's  soles.  He  tickled  her  shapely  feet 
shamelessly.     "HAHAHAHAHAHAHOHOHOHOHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"      she 
cackled,  her  laughter filling the house.  "Oh, I just  LOVE  it 
when  you  tickle my feet."   she exclaimed,  wiggling  her  toes 
uncontrollably.
     "Let's  see  how  you  like  the  Feathered  Plume,   Madame 
Hortense," David said reaching inside the night stand. 
     Madame  Hortense's eyes widened in mock horror. "OH NO!   OH 
NO!   OH NOOOOOOOOOOooaaaHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"  his mistress  roared 
as David danced the feather over her soles, between her toes  and 
up  her  ankles.  He rolled the pant legs  of  Madame  Hortense's 
jeans  up to her thighs and ran the Feathered Plume up her  legs.  
Madame  Hortense  was beside herself with  the  laughter.   David 
unbuttoned her shirt exposing her bare belly.  "Oh no, not there, 
please"    she    exclaimed,   eyes    agape,    "pleeeeeeeeease, 
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"  She laughed convulsively, her  ample  tummy 
moving up and down spasmodically.  
     David  stopped  for a moment to let his mistress  catch  her 
breath.   "Oh,  David,"  she  panted  over  and  over,  "Oh,  you 
shameless  bastard!"    She gulped, moaned, and her  head  rolled 
back over one shoulder.  David tickled her under her exposed chin 
with  the  feather.  "HEHEHEHEHEHEHE!"  she  tittered,  "Oh,  I'm 
going to get you for that one, David!"
     "If  I decide to let you up from here," David  reminded  her 
and continued tickling her under the chin with the feather.
     "You're really enjoying this, aren't you," she said lowering 
her eyes to slits.
     David  looked  her straight in the eye  defiantly.  "So  are 
YOU," he said, daring her to disagree.
     Madame  Hortense felt a quizzical expression cross her  face 
at David's words.  She hoped he hadn't noticed.  Deep down inside 
she really WAS enjoying it.  She had never realized just how much 
fun being tickled could be.  But she mustn't let David know.  She 
tried to compose herself.  "Why are you being so gentle with me?"  
she  taunted.  "Is this how you get back at the woman who's  made 
your life so miserable for the past five years?  Tickle me!  Show 
me how ruthless you can be!"
     David tossed the feather aside and went after his mistress's 
belly full force with his bare hands.  "WHOOOOA!"  she  hollered, 
her  body  bucking  against the tightness of  the  ropes.   David 
tickled   her   abdomen,   sides,   and   under   her    armpits.  
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"   she  cackled, "OH!   OH!   DON'T  STOP! 
DON'T   STOP!   DON'T  EVER  STOP!    HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!  
TICKLE ME!  TICKLE MEEEEYEEEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEEE!"
     "Enjoying   yourself,  Madame  Hortense?"   David   inquired 
continuing to tickle her.
     "YEEEES,  YES,  YES!"   she cried  with  tears  of  laughter 
rolling  down  her  cheeks,  "I LOVE IT, I  LOVE  IT!  TICKLE  ME 
EVERYWHERE!  HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
     David  tickled  her under her chin again,  then  behind  the 
ears,  on  the checks.  Madame Hortense  cackled  uncontrollably.  
She  knew  her relationship with David would never  be  the  same 
again,  but  she didn't care.  She had discovered a  whole  other 
side  to herself,  one that enjoyed receiving  tickle-torture  as 
well as giving it.  David's fingers returned down his  mistress's 
body  the same way they had come, retracing  the path  under  her 
armpits,  down  her forearms, her sides, belly and  abdomen.   He 
tickled  the  backs of her legs.  Madame Hortense  shrieked  with 
glee.   She  was  totally caught up in the  sensations  of  being 
tickled and loving every torturous nanosecond.  Her mind  laughed 
in rhythm with her body.  David continued tickling down her  legs 
to her ankles and came to rest on the bottoms of her feet.
     "OH YES, OH YES!"  she was pleading now, "DO MY FEET!  DO MY 
FEET!  I LOVE IT WHEN YOU DO MY FEET!  FINISH ME OFF!" 
     David went at his mistress's feet full force, tickling  them 
mercilessly.   Madame Hortense felt a tingle go through her  body 
from the tips of her toes to the top of her head and back.  David 
tickled the tops of her feet and inside her toe crevices.  Madame 
Hortense's  toes  began to twitch out of control.  She  was  half 
laughing,  half  gasping  now, a quivering mass  of  jelly.   She 
swooned  and  her  body  sagged  against  the  ropes.   She   was 
thoroughly   spent.   David  kissed  his   mistress's   forehead.  
"Kootchy,   kootchy,"  he  said  teasingly.   She  laughed   half 
consciously.   Just his saying the words "kootchy,  kootchy"  was 
bringing giggles to her lips.  "Kootchy, kootchy," he said again, 
realizing  the  power those words were having over  her.   Madame 
Hortense was laughing in spite of herself amid aching limbs and a 
crampy  stomach.   "Kootchy,  kootchy,"  David  kept   repeating.  
Madame Hortense was laughing harder at each utterance--and  David 
wasn't  even TOUCHING her.  He kept it up.  Madame  Hortense  was 
roaring   now.   Tears  were  running  down  her   cheeks.    She 
outstretched   her  hand  against  the  weight  of   the   ropes.  
"Enough...enough,"   she uttered weakly.  "Well, are  you  happy?  
Did you enjoy reducing your poor mistress to a quivering mass  of 
jelly?  Just what manner of slave ARE you?"
     "A  vengeful  one!"  David said triumphantly.  "And  if  you 
don't watch yourself, I'll say 'kootchy, kootchy' again!"
     "All   right,  David,"  Madame  Hortense  said  weakly   but 
determinedly,  "I'll let you have your fun for today.   Enjoy  it 
while  you can, my slave, for tomorrow it's back to  business  as 
usual."
     "Don't   be  so  sure  about  that,  Madame  Hortense,"   he 
cautioned.  "I haven't untied you yet."

                         [to be continued]