Iona Grace Part1

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The assistant loaded a gal into the van who had a truly unusual hobby. Iona Mercy loved seducing married men. Iona Mercy did it repeatedly, as if it were a game. Finally, our time came. I determined to put a stop to her hobby. The assistant transferred her over to my trusted tickler, Andy. Iona Mercy trussed Cindy tightly to the rack—her palms together and her gams apart, spread taut as a string. Iona Mercy was entirely helpless, and then it began. Andy commenced slowly. Iona Mercy delicately kittled her armpits with her fingers. Cindy instantaneously commenced making fun and squirming; Iona Mercy was impressively ticklish. Andy didn't make it any lighter for her – Iona Mercy ran her fingers over her sides, her ribs, her stomach. Iona Mercy kittled her intensely. Cindy writhed, squealed, and made fun so rock hard Iona Mercy nearly lost her breath. Then it was time for her feet. Iona Mercy was wearing sneakers, which Andy took off. Underneath, Iona Mercy had socks on, which smelled a little of sweat. Andy kittled her through the socks for a while, delicately kittling her toes and stilettos with her fingers. Cindy made fun again, but the greatest was yet to come. When Andy pulled her socks down and unveiled her naked feet, it was clear that Cindy couldn't take it. Her soles were sensitive, gorgeously smooth, and entirely defenseless. Andy kittled her under her toes, circled her humps around the bend of her foot, and ran them over her stilettos and between her toes. Her fingers were unstoppable. Cindy squirmed, attempting to pull away, but the handcuffs held her tightly in place. Bursts of laughter mingled with screams, begging, and tears of laughter. Andy was relentless, systematic, calm... as if Iona Mercy were handling the entire thing like meditation. After about fifteen minutes, Andy finished. Cindy lay there sweaty, breathless, but entirely subdued. And I think Iona Grace'll reminisce it well.