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  • Madame Hortense awakened from her nap to the sweet
    sensations of David's fingers still busy about massaging her
    feet. "Are you ready for your test, love?" she asked.
    "Yes, Mistress," David replied.
    "Did you just tickle me, or was I dreaming?" she asked
    suspiciously.
    "You were dreaming, Mistress," David answered.
    Madame Hortense cocked her head to one side and eyed him
    coolly. "I'm not so sure. I think I'd better assess you another
    hour of tickle time just in case I WASN'T dreaming."
    "Please, Madame Hortense," David begged, "I swear I didn't
    tickle you! I was just studying your lovely feet!"
    "Oh, David, I'm only teasing you," his mistress said with a
    wave of her hand, "can't you take a joke?...I enjoyed your little
    massage," she continued, "you certainly have a way with feet.
    Are you ready for your test?"
    "Yes, Mistress, I'm ready," he replied.
    "You've made a thorough study of my feet in exacting
    detail?" she inquired.
    "Yes, Mistress, I have."
    "So if I ask you to kiss a specific location on my feet,
    you'll know EXACTLY where to kiss me?"
    "Yes, Mistress."
    "All right, smarty," she said skeptically, "I'll start you
    off with an easy one. I want you to kiss the ball of my right
    foot."
    David bent and kissed the ball of Madame Hortense's right
    foot.
    "Very good, slave, I see you've been studying," Madame
    Hortense was impressed.
    "I have said that I have studied, Mistress."
    "Indeed you have, my love! Now this one's a toughy. I want
    you to kiss me on the big toenail of my left foot--right smack in
    the middle."
    David bent once more and applied his lips to his mistress's
    left big toenail.
    "You're one centimeter off, slave," she said in a clipped
    tone. "YOU haven't done your homework!"
    "But I kissed you right in the middle of your toenail,
    Madame Hortense!" David whined.
    "No you didn't," his mistress exclaimed in the same clipped
    tone. "And don't you argue with me, young man. I'll spank you
    if you argue with me again...and give you a tickling besides!"
    "But I was close, wasn't I, Mistress!" David pleaded his
    case, "doesn't close count for something?"
    "Only in horseshoes and hand grenades, my dear. I fine you
    one hour of tickle-torture for failing to obey orders...and while
    I'm at it...come lay across my knee!"
    David was terrified.
    "Come, come, come," Madame Hortense command him, as a mother
    would a child.
    David lay resignedly across Madame Hortense's knee.
    "I'm going to give you a spanking for arguing with me."
    WHACK!
    David felt the weight of Madame Hortense's powerful right
    hand on his buttocks.
    WHACK!
    "Don't you ever argue with me again, young man! Do you
    understand?"
    WHACK!
    "I will not tolerate such behavior from my slaves!"
    WHACK!
    "Now lay down on the bed and let me tie you up! I told you
    I'd give you a spanking and a tickling and I meant it! In fact
    you've got a LOT of tickling to look forward to. I'm giving you
    the tickling you have coming for whistling while doing the dishes
    AND the one you have coming for failing to kiss my big toenail in
    exactly the spot I told you." Madame Hortense thought a minute
    and then smiled slyly and mused, "In fact...I'm still not sure
    you weren't tickling me in my sleep just now. I'm giving you a
    tickling for that, too."
    "But I DIDN'T tickle you," David whined.
    WHACK!
    "Do you want ANOTHER spanking, young man? I told you about
    arguing with me. Now lie down and let me tie you up."
    "But my butt is sore from your spanking," he pleaded.
    "Oh, you're breaking my heart. LIE DOWN!"
    David lay resignedly on the bed, his eyes misty with tears
    as Madame Hortense tied his wrists and ankles to the four poster
    bed with ropes. His sore butt could barely stand to touch the
    bed. Madame Hortense observed her weeping slave and looked at
    him pityingly.
    "Awwwwww, is Mommy's widdle baby unhappy? Mommy will give
    you something to laugh about," and she started tickling his toes.
    "This is for whistling while doing the dishes!"
    David began laughing and crying at the same time.
    "Are you laughing or crying?" Madame Hortense asked.
    "Both," giggled David through his tears.
    "You're still CRYING? Well, I'll just have to give you
    something else to laugh about," his mistress smiled, and she
    tickled the soles of David's feet. "This is for failing to kiss
    my feet in the exact spot I told you! Are you still crying?"
    his mistress asked inquisitively.
    "HAHAHAHAHA! No, Mistress. I love it when you tickle my
    feet," laughed David.
    "Well, kootchy, kootchy, koo," cooed his mistress and she
    continued tickling his feet.
    David was laughing hysterically. The exquisite
    agony/ecstasy of Madame Hortense's fingers dancing over his soles
    was more than he could stand.
    "Did you know I play piano?" Madame Hortense inquired.
    "You do?" David managed quizzically through is laughter.
    "Would you like to hear my rendition of <<The Flight of the
    Bumblebee?">>
    David was puzzled but giggled, "Sure, Mistress."
    "All right, slave," she said slyly, "I'm going to play <<The
    Flight of the Bumblebee>>--on the soles of your feet!" And she
    started tickling David's feet in time with the rhythms of <<The
    Flight of the Bumblebee.>>
    "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Stop! Cut it out!
    Please!" David laughed.
    "Nooooo," teased his mistress, "That's your punishment for
    tickling me in my sleep...besides, I'm having FUN. Why, I
    haven't played piano in years. I'd forgotten how much fun it can
    be. Now for my next selection, <<The Minute Waltz.>>"
    "Oh, no, pleaaaase!" cried David as Madame Hortense tickled
    his soles in time with <<The Minute Waltz, >>"Can't you play
    something slower?"
    "Suure, I can take requests," exclaimed his mistress
    generously, "What would you like me to play?"
    "How about <<The Dead March,>>" chuckled David.
    "A Chopin freak in the audience, eh! All right, <<The Dead
    March!>>" and she hammered out the rhythms of <<The Dead March >>on
    David's helpless soles.
    But the slow, heavy, insistent tempo of <<The Dead March >>
    proved to be no relief from tickle-torture for David. In fact he
    found the slower pace even more titillating. "How about <<The
    Battle Hymn of the Republic!>>" he giggled. His mistress had
    managed to tickle him silly. She obliged him with his request.
    "Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!" David sang between senseless
    giggles.
    "Oh, you're really getting SILLY now," exclaimed Madame
    Hortense. "Any more requests, slave? I have lots of songs in my
    repertoire."
    "How about <<War of 1812,>>" he giggled.
    "You silly boy," she chided as she thrashed out the <<War of
    1812 Overture >>on his toes, tickling them rapidly when she got to
    the parts where the cannons go off. She then switched to some
    popular music, doing a rendition of <<What I Say, >>by Ray Charles,
    on the tops of her slave's feet, <<Pretty Woman, >>by Roy Orbison, on
    his ankles, and <<Get Ready, >>by the Temptations on his soles.
    "I've never had a slave who makes me feel the way that you do,
    you're outta sight!" she sang along with her tickling, stopping
    on the words "get ready" and starting up again on "'cause here I
    come". David was beside himself with laughter not just from
    being tickled, but from seeing his mistress genuinely enjoying
    herself. She seemed so happy performing her pretend recital.
    She had completely forgotten she was supposed to be punishing him
    and had gotten completely caught up in the enjoyment of her
    "piano playing", laughing, singing, and serenading her slave.
    She finished off her recital with an encore performance of <<The
    Flight of the Bumblebee.>>
    "That's what I call SOLE music," David laughed.
    "Silly boy," Madame Hortense chided tickling his foot with a
    flourish, "you're not supposed to be enjoying this; this is your
    punishment. Have you no better sense that to enjoy being
    punished? Can you not recognize tickle-torture when it's being
    administered?"
    David only smiled.
    "Oh, David," she said with a half shrug, "whatever am I
    going to do with you?"
    "How about another piano recital, Madame Hortense?" David
    said eagerly.
    "Oh, all right," replied his mistress in mock disgust, "but
    on one condition; you have to play ME a recital this weekend when
    YOU take over."
    "Deal," agreed David, "let's shake on it." And Madame
    Hortense shook David's right foot with her right hand to seal the
    agreement. "You're in for a real treat this weekend, Mistress,"
    David said.
    "I can hardly wait," said Madame Hortense with a smile.

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