Trisha walked down the cement path to her tormentor's apartment, the same path she'd walked down multiple times before, heading to a situation she enjoyed very much. She never asked for his name, nor did he ask for hers. She simply came here to be tied down, tickled, relieved, and released.
They had spoken about this many times...there was no relationship involved here. Trisha loved the feeling of being tied down, helpless, and being forced to laugh til it hurt. This information she put in a personal ad on the internet, which received no responses...until a month and a half later.
The response was quick and to the point. He told her what he was looking for...a submissive, attractive woman who wanted to try new things in bed, who was open to the idea of being helpless, to the idea of being someone's toy. He said he was clean and disease free, and that he only wanted to inflict pleasure and pain, not receive it.
Happily, she replied. They agreed to keep their names secret, so as not to complicate things. He gave her orders, and she followed them. He tied her up, tickled her silly, then satisfied her, sometimes combining the two in a heavenly mix of pleasure and torture. She always left feeling weak and happy, dizzy and content.
He liked tying her to the bed, blindfolding her, and tickling her until she begged for mercy. He always pushed her limits, but he never really took her too far from her comfort zone with the tickling. He always paid special attention to her most precious places while he tickled her, satisfying her three, even four times before he untied her and let her clean herself up.
This time, however, would be different. She didn't know it, but tonight, her tormentor planned to break her.
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The doorbell rang; two chimes of different notes echoed through the small apartment. As per his instructions, the beautiful redhead turned the brass doorknob and entered the abode. She laid her purse on the end table next to the couch, and slipped off her black high heels. The plush carpet felts good against her feet. Black stockings encased her feet and legs, up to her thighs. A thin black skirt barely hid the garter that prevented her stockings from rolling down her beautiful legs. A dark blue button down blouse covered the black, lacy bra that supported her perky, round 34C breasts. Her panties matched her bra; black and thin, lacy, and intentionally worn on top of her garter, so they might come off that much easier.
The woman's shoulder length auburn-red hair was tied in a tight bun on top of her head; again, as per her orders. The thin-framed prescription eyeglasses she wore rested on her small nose, allowing her emerald green eyes to see more clearly than her less than perfect natural vision would allow. She slid her glasses off and rested them on the table next to her purse.
She sighed, knowing how wonderful the next couple hours were going to be. So much stress relieved from her 23 year old body and mind, so much pleasure awaiting her, so much sweet agony. She sat on the middle of three cushions on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table and crossing her ankles. She said in a slightly elevated voice, "I'm here!"
Since she stepped in, she could hear her tormentor shuffling around in the bedroom in the back. Soon after she called out, he came into the living room carrying a black duffel bag. He smiled at her, saying, "Hey there, beautiful. Good to see you keep coming around."
She giggled. "You know how much I love what you do to me, Sir." Her tummy fluttered every time she called him Sir...that was the key word, the one thing that kept reminding her that she was his to play with.
He smiled even more broadly. "Are you ready for your session tonight, pet?"
"I sure am, Sir...I can already feel the restraints on my wrists, and the bed underneath me," she said.
Her dominant smiled. "Oh no, my sweet, we're not using the bed today. I have something a little different planned for you. No fooling around...get down to your stockings and garter."
His words were quick and sharp, commanding and controlling. Yet, they still held that caring, loving quality she liked about him so much. She quickly stood up and shirked off her skirt and panties, then unbuttoned her blouse and slipped out of her bra. She sat back down on the couch, her clothing a pile on the floor, a big smile on her face, as she put her feet back up on the table.
While she was undressing, her torturer had taken a few things from his duffel bag. Four restraints she was very familiar with were laid out on the table: each one was a padded, black leather cuff, tied firmly and securely to a length of nylon rope about five feet long. He unbuckled the first and told his victim to hold out her arms. He buckled them tightly about her wrists, making sure there was no chance for slippage.
"Lay back, against the couch, pet," he ordered, and she did so. He pulled the ropes over the arms of the plush couch, tying them to the feet of the couch tightly, pulling her arms away from her body. The beautiful, nearly naked woman gasped at how tight he made them, yet how comfortable she felt on this couch.
Then, the buckled her ankles to the remaining two restraints. "Here's part of what I want to try that's new. You said you do yoga, right?" She nodded. "Then you should be plenty flexible for this position." He pulled her left leg far to the left, tying her ankle tightly by the rope to the foot of the couch. He did the same with her right leg, making sure she was still comfortable in this highly vulnerable and exposed position. She was impressed with how securely she was held, her arms along the back of the couch and her legs spread so widely. Her entire weight was on the cushions of the couch.
He smiled at his toy...spread so widely and held so tightly in that position. Her pink, perfectly shaved pussy was gloriously visible, and the rest of her was in a perfect position to be tortured. He slowly slid his fingertip along her helplessly bound left sole, and she squealed.
He reached into the bag again, this time bringing out her favorite little garment: the blindfold. She loved not being able to see what was coming next. The anticipation of being blindfolded began to stir her arousal almost as much as being tied up had. He placed the black facemask over her eyes and stretch the tight elastic around her head, making sure she wouldn't be able to see anything from underneath it.
She giggled a little, as she heard him going back to the bag. "Sir, are you going to torture me tonight?" Her playful tone was music to his ears.
"I sure am, pet...but first...there's another thing I want to do with you. Open your mouth wide, sweetie."
The woman did as she was told, wondering what was about to happen. She squealed as a rubber ball was pushed between her teeth, and a strap was clasped tightly behind her head. She had never been gagged before. She tried to ask him why he was doing this, but it was too late...only muffled syllables escaped from behind the rubber ball.
He spoke into her ear, softly, seductively. "The more senses I strip from you, the more sensitive your remaining ones become. Besides, as much as I like to hear you laugh, tonight is very different from our other meetings." His tone suddenly became colder, more calculated. "Tonight, I am not going to just play with you. Tonight, I am going to break you."
His last words sent a shiver of fear down the woman's spine. She bristled, and tried to ask him what he meant, but her speech was restrained...she couldn't ask him to explain if she tried. Suddenly, after growing to trust this man over months of meetings, she felt scared. The ballgag was tight and she felt very, very helpless. Unable to move, unable to see, unable to speak...she couldn't even object.
She felt him close by as he knelt between her spread legs. He placed his hands on her arms, and she twitched at the touch, not from fear of tickling, just from fear. She began to attempt to ask for reconsideration, and muffled sounds began to spill out from behind her gag. Before anything coherent could be heard, her pleas dissolved into giggles, as her dominant's fingertips began to lightly stroke her biceps.
His fingers trailed along her sensitive skin. He loved how deliciously ticklish her entire body was...even the palms of her soft hands could make her giggle. He had explored her body enough to know her weakest spots...enough to know that her feet, although incredibly ticklish, were made even more sensitive by the thin stockings she wore. He knew that her hips, sexy and slim, were so ticklish that she would fall into silent laughter after only a few seconds of attention. And he knew very well that being tickle tortured forced her sex to moisten and throb, and made her desire that attention that only he could give.
He also had a hunch that if he forced more tickling upon her body than she could endure, that she might spontaneously erupt in orgasmic pleasure without even a touch of her sex.
His fingers slid into her underarms, and her girlish giggles turned into panicked squeals of laughter. The muffles cries of hysterics vibrated her sexy red ballgag, and her head whipped back and forth in the only vain attempt at movement she could muster. She tugged fruitlessly on her four point restraints, which only assured her of how helpless she was.
Her tormentor's fingers slid in and out of her smooth shaven armpits, stroking her soft skin and forcing the girl to screech and giggle. Her gorgeous breasts heaved as she drew breath in through her cute little nose, and her toes wiggled rapidly in reaction to the sensations. As afraid as she was of being 'broken,' she still greatly enjoyed the tickling.
The man's hands slid to her ribs, a well known hot spot. She tensed as soon as his hands moved there, but she only had a second to be nervous before he dug in. Playing her sides like a double sided piano, he wiggled his fingers in between each pair of ribs, then made long strokes up and down her bare, helpless sides. She laughed and screamed into her gag like a madwoman, twitching and instinctively trying to get away, despite her tight and well thought out bondage. Her lungs were beginning to burn from the workout, and that slight shortness of breath kicked off another sensation: the tingling in her tummy.
As the hysterical woman felt the stinging in her lungs, her fires of passion began to arise. The mad, screaming laughter; the cruelly intense sensations firing from her ribcage; the mental image of seeing herself naked, strapped down, being tickled so thoroughly, only made her flames rage hotter. Within only a few moments of having her hyper-sensitive ribcage tickled, she could feel her wetness collecting inside her.
The torturer's hands slid lower, nearing her incredibly ticklish hips and tummy. She whimpered between her laughter, knowing how explosively ticklish she was about her panty line. His fingers began to slowly probe into her flesh, wiggling against her hipbones and into her waist, and the poor girl saw stars flash before her tightly closed eyes.
Lightning bolts of sensation coursed through her, that feeling she loved so much. Screaming and squealing into her gag, she enjoyed every second of the torture she came to love so much. Her clit was beginning to throb, and she could feel her own pulse in her crotch. That firey, passionate sensation of wanting to be drivne insane with laughter and arousal could not be doused.
The man who held her sexuality in his hands slid his palms suddenly up her body, cupping and squeezing her breasts. her squeals of laughter quickly turned to loud, muffled moans of pleasure. Her nipples were already stiffening as he pinched them gently between his fingers, rolling them back and forth slowly. A small string of drool escaped from between her gag and her lips, which fell between her breasts. She was liking the gag more and more...it added to her helplessness and it was just damned hot.
A few more seconds of fondling the frenzied woman's breasts had her stoked to nearly one hundred percent. As she had felt many times before, a small bead of her natural lubrication slipped from her pussy and coursed down under her ass. It was quickly absorbed into the couch to which she was bound.
Soon, her lover's hands slid back down her body and began to tease her thighs. Gently and slowly stroking her creamy skin made her giggle and writhe lewdly in her bonds, and he could feel the heat emanating from her precious arousal.
He asked her a very silly and uneccesary question: "Do you want me to tickle your feet?"
Her response was quick and concise; she nodded her head rapidly. "Mmmm hmm!" she muffled out behind her gag.
"As you wish, my tickleslave..." She felt his hands slide down her stockinged legs towards her super-sensitive feet, and she squealed a high pitched anticipatory squeal.
As soon as his fingertips began stroking up and down her stockinged, helpless soles, the woman burst out with hysterical laughter. Oh how she loved this feeling! The bolts of ticklishness fired from her feet, straight through her wet, wanting pussy and up to her brain. She laughed harder than ever tonight, and tears began to leak from under her blindfold. Her little toes wiggled as her size seven feet were assaulted by the sensations, and her mouth drooled a little more onto her torso.
Minutes that felt like hours ticked by as her feet were cruelly and deliciously tickle tortured...her tummy felt like it was on fire, both from the laughter and intense arousal. She was feeling a bit lightheaded, and this only turned her on more. The fingertips sliding rapidly over her smooth soles, under her adorable, sexy toes, and around her sensitive heels were driving her mad with laughter and pleasure. Had she not been ordered from the beginning of their meetings to never ask for sex, she would have begged her Master to fuck her until the sun rose, all while tickling her insane.
After several long, incredible minutes, the tickling slowed down, and finally stopped. The woman gasped for breath through her nose for a few moments, a few residual giggles dying away as she began to calm down. Her **** was on fire, and though the ticklish sensations faded, her desire to be forced to orgasm over and over again only raged on. Her dominant unbuckled the gag from behind her head and she flexed her jaw for a moment after he took it from her.
"Are you enjoying yourself, pet?" he asked.
The woman nodded her head rapidly. "Yes Sir, I love it when you tickle me like this!"
The man went to the kitchen and brought out a glass of water with a straw in it. He allowed her a few precious gulps before taking the straw away. "And tell me, how do you like being gagged?"
"Oh Sir, I love it so much, it makes me feel so much more helpless!" She never knew how much she'd like being kept quiet in such a way. "But I'm confused, Sir...what did you say about this being different than other nights?" Her arousal was not hidden in her voice; she gasped through each word.
The man replaced the gag in her mouth and buckled it tightly again before answering. "This is why." She heard him snap his fingers.
Padding in from the other room came a beautiful, raven haired woman, barefoot. Long red nails adorned her fingertips, and bright blue eyes shined hungrily as she looked over the bound, helpless, horny woman on the couch. She wore a tight black dress and black stockings, similar to those the victim on the couch wore. The victim, of course, couldn't see her, but she definitely heard.
She began to struggle, embarassed that anyone else should see her like this. Her master spoke: "This is Lady Laura. She's going to help me break you. Say hello, Laura."
Before the young woman could even begin to object from behind her gag, she squealed out in sharp laughter. Lady Laura's fingernails slid along her stockinged left sole, sending a quick, intense snap of ticklishness through her body. She shivered, understanding now what was about to happen.
Without any further delay, Lady Laura knelt on the floor by the young victim's left foot. She began to stroke and slide her precisely manicured nails along the helpless, ticklish sole in front of her, and the owner of that sole began to lose her mind. Not only was she being tickled by a stranger, but that stranger was a woman with incredibly effective nails. The shots of ticklishness that coursed up her leg were incredible.
Only a second or two later, her Master's fingertips joined, tickling her right sole. Both tormentors stroked up and down their respective foot, holding back her toes to scratch cruelly at their super sensitive undersides. The girl being put through this screamed helplessly into her gag, unaware of how intense being tickled by two people could be.
As embarassed as she was at her situation, her **** continued to inflame with her arousal. Her feet were being tortured by two expert ticklers, and the thin stockings made it ten times worse. Her nipples were so stiff they felt like they were about to explode, and her clit itched so bad she would have done anything to relieve herself.
Just when she thought it couldn't get anymore intense, it did.
While both her feet were being tickle tortured, each of her ticklers reached up with their other hands and began to prod and pinch her hips.
The girl's mind nearly melted. For several long seconds, it tickled so bad, she couldn't even draw breath. Her lungs locked up tight, and the sensations built up to a breaking point. Just as her head began to spin, she drew a deep, heavy breath through her nose, and screamed bloody murder.
The scream of agony dissolved into hysterical laughter. She never felt this before; her two most ticklish places being tickled so viciously by two separate ticklers...it was indescribable. She screamed between laughs, her toes wiggling defenslessly against the onslought of torture.
Her pussy continued to ache, only now, she felt a warm sensation wash over her entire body...a feeling she only felt right before an orgasm.
Her entire vibrated. Her lungs locked up again for a split second as her pussy clenched tightly on only itself. The orgasm tore through her body like a bunkerbuster. She screamed at the very top of her lungs as the intense tickle torture drove her over a cliff she didn't even know existed, an incredible, heavenly cliff of inhuman torture and pleasure all mixed into one. Her ears rang, her eyes flashed, and her lungs felt like they were aflame as her pussy convulsed on itself over and over again for several long, delicious seconds.
The tickling never ceased. The poor girl came her little heart out, but she still couldn't stop laughing. The fingertips and nails didn't let up, stroking her smooth, stockinged arches and heels, digging into her writhing, sensitive hips. She laughed and laughed, hiccupping every few moments from the inconsistent breathing. She never felt like this before, so alive while so helpless.
Her mind spun as she felt a second wave approaching. Her feet and hips felt so much more ticklish after she came, and that orgasm was so intense, she didn't think she would be able to bear another one. Her toes clecnched as the second wave of pleasure crashed into her twice as hard as the first, her clit throbbing and aching, her pussy lips bright pink and enflamed, as she felt herself squirt a small amount of her juice onto the couch beneath her. She couldn't stand it; it felt so good it almost hurt, her insides were twisting over themselves in pleasure as she came twice even longer than the first time. The ticklish sensations in her waist and feet fed the orgasm, and as it continued to rage through her body, she became scared that it might not end!
Still, the tickling did not stop. Within literally only a few seconds, her third climax approached, and between screams of muffled laughter, she begged for mercy. "NononononononoooooooooooOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" she squealed out, as her body was assailed with yet another crushing, nearly painful wave of pleasure that enveloped her entire body, from her ears to her post-orgasmically sensitive and ticklish soles.
For several minutes, the pair of torturers continued to tickle their victim, driving her through countless intense, immesurable orgasms, forcing her pussy to squirt multiple times onto the couch to which she was bound. Soon, the woman's mind began to grow weak; she felt distant, lightheaded...the tickling sensations never faded as she passed into unconsciousness. For several long moments after she passed out and her torturers stopped assaulting her body, she twitched as her nervous system continued to fire.
Lady Laura smiled at the man. They began to untie the nearly naked, exhausted woman, and discussed part two of their plan...
They had spoken about this many times...there was no relationship involved here. Trisha loved the feeling of being tied down, helpless, and being forced to laugh til it hurt. This information she put in a personal ad on the internet, which received no responses...until a month and a half later.
The response was quick and to the point. He told her what he was looking for...a submissive, attractive woman who wanted to try new things in bed, who was open to the idea of being helpless, to the idea of being someone's toy. He said he was clean and disease free, and that he only wanted to inflict pleasure and pain, not receive it.
Happily, she replied. They agreed to keep their names secret, so as not to complicate things. He gave her orders, and she followed them. He tied her up, tickled her silly, then satisfied her, sometimes combining the two in a heavenly mix of pleasure and torture. She always left feeling weak and happy, dizzy and content.
He liked tying her to the bed, blindfolding her, and tickling her until she begged for mercy. He always pushed her limits, but he never really took her too far from her comfort zone with the tickling. He always paid special attention to her most precious places while he tickled her, satisfying her three, even four times before he untied her and let her clean herself up.
This time, however, would be different. She didn't know it, but tonight, her tormentor planned to break her.
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The doorbell rang; two chimes of different notes echoed through the small apartment. As per his instructions, the beautiful redhead turned the brass doorknob and entered the abode. She laid her purse on the end table next to the couch, and slipped off her black high heels. The plush carpet felts good against her feet. Black stockings encased her feet and legs, up to her thighs. A thin black skirt barely hid the garter that prevented her stockings from rolling down her beautiful legs. A dark blue button down blouse covered the black, lacy bra that supported her perky, round 34C breasts. Her panties matched her bra; black and thin, lacy, and intentionally worn on top of her garter, so they might come off that much easier.
The woman's shoulder length auburn-red hair was tied in a tight bun on top of her head; again, as per her orders. The thin-framed prescription eyeglasses she wore rested on her small nose, allowing her emerald green eyes to see more clearly than her less than perfect natural vision would allow. She slid her glasses off and rested them on the table next to her purse.
She sighed, knowing how wonderful the next couple hours were going to be. So much stress relieved from her 23 year old body and mind, so much pleasure awaiting her, so much sweet agony. She sat on the middle of three cushions on the couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table and crossing her ankles. She said in a slightly elevated voice, "I'm here!"
Since she stepped in, she could hear her tormentor shuffling around in the bedroom in the back. Soon after she called out, he came into the living room carrying a black duffel bag. He smiled at her, saying, "Hey there, beautiful. Good to see you keep coming around."
She giggled. "You know how much I love what you do to me, Sir." Her tummy fluttered every time she called him Sir...that was the key word, the one thing that kept reminding her that she was his to play with.
He smiled even more broadly. "Are you ready for your session tonight, pet?"
"I sure am, Sir...I can already feel the restraints on my wrists, and the bed underneath me," she said.
Her dominant smiled. "Oh no, my sweet, we're not using the bed today. I have something a little different planned for you. No fooling around...get down to your stockings and garter."
His words were quick and sharp, commanding and controlling. Yet, they still held that caring, loving quality she liked about him so much. She quickly stood up and shirked off her skirt and panties, then unbuttoned her blouse and slipped out of her bra. She sat back down on the couch, her clothing a pile on the floor, a big smile on her face, as she put her feet back up on the table.
While she was undressing, her torturer had taken a few things from his duffel bag. Four restraints she was very familiar with were laid out on the table: each one was a padded, black leather cuff, tied firmly and securely to a length of nylon rope about five feet long. He unbuckled the first and told his victim to hold out her arms. He buckled them tightly about her wrists, making sure there was no chance for slippage.
"Lay back, against the couch, pet," he ordered, and she did so. He pulled the ropes over the arms of the plush couch, tying them to the feet of the couch tightly, pulling her arms away from her body. The beautiful, nearly naked woman gasped at how tight he made them, yet how comfortable she felt on this couch.
Then, the buckled her ankles to the remaining two restraints. "Here's part of what I want to try that's new. You said you do yoga, right?" She nodded. "Then you should be plenty flexible for this position." He pulled her left leg far to the left, tying her ankle tightly by the rope to the foot of the couch. He did the same with her right leg, making sure she was still comfortable in this highly vulnerable and exposed position. She was impressed with how securely she was held, her arms along the back of the couch and her legs spread so widely. Her entire weight was on the cushions of the couch.
He smiled at his toy...spread so widely and held so tightly in that position. Her pink, perfectly shaved pussy was gloriously visible, and the rest of her was in a perfect position to be tortured. He slowly slid his fingertip along her helplessly bound left sole, and she squealed.
He reached into the bag again, this time bringing out her favorite little garment: the blindfold. She loved not being able to see what was coming next. The anticipation of being blindfolded began to stir her arousal almost as much as being tied up had. He placed the black facemask over her eyes and stretch the tight elastic around her head, making sure she wouldn't be able to see anything from underneath it.
She giggled a little, as she heard him going back to the bag. "Sir, are you going to torture me tonight?" Her playful tone was music to his ears.
"I sure am, pet...but first...there's another thing I want to do with you. Open your mouth wide, sweetie."
The woman did as she was told, wondering what was about to happen. She squealed as a rubber ball was pushed between her teeth, and a strap was clasped tightly behind her head. She had never been gagged before. She tried to ask him why he was doing this, but it was too late...only muffled syllables escaped from behind the rubber ball.
He spoke into her ear, softly, seductively. "The more senses I strip from you, the more sensitive your remaining ones become. Besides, as much as I like to hear you laugh, tonight is very different from our other meetings." His tone suddenly became colder, more calculated. "Tonight, I am not going to just play with you. Tonight, I am going to break you."
His last words sent a shiver of fear down the woman's spine. She bristled, and tried to ask him what he meant, but her speech was restrained...she couldn't ask him to explain if she tried. Suddenly, after growing to trust this man over months of meetings, she felt scared. The ballgag was tight and she felt very, very helpless. Unable to move, unable to see, unable to speak...she couldn't even object.
She felt him close by as he knelt between her spread legs. He placed his hands on her arms, and she twitched at the touch, not from fear of tickling, just from fear. She began to attempt to ask for reconsideration, and muffled sounds began to spill out from behind her gag. Before anything coherent could be heard, her pleas dissolved into giggles, as her dominant's fingertips began to lightly stroke her biceps.
His fingers trailed along her sensitive skin. He loved how deliciously ticklish her entire body was...even the palms of her soft hands could make her giggle. He had explored her body enough to know her weakest spots...enough to know that her feet, although incredibly ticklish, were made even more sensitive by the thin stockings she wore. He knew that her hips, sexy and slim, were so ticklish that she would fall into silent laughter after only a few seconds of attention. And he knew very well that being tickle tortured forced her sex to moisten and throb, and made her desire that attention that only he could give.
He also had a hunch that if he forced more tickling upon her body than she could endure, that she might spontaneously erupt in orgasmic pleasure without even a touch of her sex.
His fingers slid into her underarms, and her girlish giggles turned into panicked squeals of laughter. The muffles cries of hysterics vibrated her sexy red ballgag, and her head whipped back and forth in the only vain attempt at movement she could muster. She tugged fruitlessly on her four point restraints, which only assured her of how helpless she was.
Her tormentor's fingers slid in and out of her smooth shaven armpits, stroking her soft skin and forcing the girl to screech and giggle. Her gorgeous breasts heaved as she drew breath in through her cute little nose, and her toes wiggled rapidly in reaction to the sensations. As afraid as she was of being 'broken,' she still greatly enjoyed the tickling.
The man's hands slid to her ribs, a well known hot spot. She tensed as soon as his hands moved there, but she only had a second to be nervous before he dug in. Playing her sides like a double sided piano, he wiggled his fingers in between each pair of ribs, then made long strokes up and down her bare, helpless sides. She laughed and screamed into her gag like a madwoman, twitching and instinctively trying to get away, despite her tight and well thought out bondage. Her lungs were beginning to burn from the workout, and that slight shortness of breath kicked off another sensation: the tingling in her tummy.
As the hysterical woman felt the stinging in her lungs, her fires of passion began to arise. The mad, screaming laughter; the cruelly intense sensations firing from her ribcage; the mental image of seeing herself naked, strapped down, being tickled so thoroughly, only made her flames rage hotter. Within only a few moments of having her hyper-sensitive ribcage tickled, she could feel her wetness collecting inside her.
The torturer's hands slid lower, nearing her incredibly ticklish hips and tummy. She whimpered between her laughter, knowing how explosively ticklish she was about her panty line. His fingers began to slowly probe into her flesh, wiggling against her hipbones and into her waist, and the poor girl saw stars flash before her tightly closed eyes.
Lightning bolts of sensation coursed through her, that feeling she loved so much. Screaming and squealing into her gag, she enjoyed every second of the torture she came to love so much. Her clit was beginning to throb, and she could feel her own pulse in her crotch. That firey, passionate sensation of wanting to be drivne insane with laughter and arousal could not be doused.
The man who held her sexuality in his hands slid his palms suddenly up her body, cupping and squeezing her breasts. her squeals of laughter quickly turned to loud, muffled moans of pleasure. Her nipples were already stiffening as he pinched them gently between his fingers, rolling them back and forth slowly. A small string of drool escaped from between her gag and her lips, which fell between her breasts. She was liking the gag more and more...it added to her helplessness and it was just damned hot.
A few more seconds of fondling the frenzied woman's breasts had her stoked to nearly one hundred percent. As she had felt many times before, a small bead of her natural lubrication slipped from her pussy and coursed down under her ass. It was quickly absorbed into the couch to which she was bound.
Soon, her lover's hands slid back down her body and began to tease her thighs. Gently and slowly stroking her creamy skin made her giggle and writhe lewdly in her bonds, and he could feel the heat emanating from her precious arousal.
He asked her a very silly and uneccesary question: "Do you want me to tickle your feet?"
Her response was quick and concise; she nodded her head rapidly. "Mmmm hmm!" she muffled out behind her gag.
"As you wish, my tickleslave..." She felt his hands slide down her stockinged legs towards her super-sensitive feet, and she squealed a high pitched anticipatory squeal.
As soon as his fingertips began stroking up and down her stockinged, helpless soles, the woman burst out with hysterical laughter. Oh how she loved this feeling! The bolts of ticklishness fired from her feet, straight through her wet, wanting pussy and up to her brain. She laughed harder than ever tonight, and tears began to leak from under her blindfold. Her little toes wiggled as her size seven feet were assaulted by the sensations, and her mouth drooled a little more onto her torso.
Minutes that felt like hours ticked by as her feet were cruelly and deliciously tickle tortured...her tummy felt like it was on fire, both from the laughter and intense arousal. She was feeling a bit lightheaded, and this only turned her on more. The fingertips sliding rapidly over her smooth soles, under her adorable, sexy toes, and around her sensitive heels were driving her mad with laughter and pleasure. Had she not been ordered from the beginning of their meetings to never ask for sex, she would have begged her Master to fuck her until the sun rose, all while tickling her insane.
After several long, incredible minutes, the tickling slowed down, and finally stopped. The woman gasped for breath through her nose for a few moments, a few residual giggles dying away as she began to calm down. Her **** was on fire, and though the ticklish sensations faded, her desire to be forced to orgasm over and over again only raged on. Her dominant unbuckled the gag from behind her head and she flexed her jaw for a moment after he took it from her.
"Are you enjoying yourself, pet?" he asked.
The woman nodded her head rapidly. "Yes Sir, I love it when you tickle me like this!"
The man went to the kitchen and brought out a glass of water with a straw in it. He allowed her a few precious gulps before taking the straw away. "And tell me, how do you like being gagged?"
"Oh Sir, I love it so much, it makes me feel so much more helpless!" She never knew how much she'd like being kept quiet in such a way. "But I'm confused, Sir...what did you say about this being different than other nights?" Her arousal was not hidden in her voice; she gasped through each word.
The man replaced the gag in her mouth and buckled it tightly again before answering. "This is why." She heard him snap his fingers.
Padding in from the other room came a beautiful, raven haired woman, barefoot. Long red nails adorned her fingertips, and bright blue eyes shined hungrily as she looked over the bound, helpless, horny woman on the couch. She wore a tight black dress and black stockings, similar to those the victim on the couch wore. The victim, of course, couldn't see her, but she definitely heard.
She began to struggle, embarassed that anyone else should see her like this. Her master spoke: "This is Lady Laura. She's going to help me break you. Say hello, Laura."
Before the young woman could even begin to object from behind her gag, she squealed out in sharp laughter. Lady Laura's fingernails slid along her stockinged left sole, sending a quick, intense snap of ticklishness through her body. She shivered, understanding now what was about to happen.
Without any further delay, Lady Laura knelt on the floor by the young victim's left foot. She began to stroke and slide her precisely manicured nails along the helpless, ticklish sole in front of her, and the owner of that sole began to lose her mind. Not only was she being tickled by a stranger, but that stranger was a woman with incredibly effective nails. The shots of ticklishness that coursed up her leg were incredible.
Only a second or two later, her Master's fingertips joined, tickling her right sole. Both tormentors stroked up and down their respective foot, holding back her toes to scratch cruelly at their super sensitive undersides. The girl being put through this screamed helplessly into her gag, unaware of how intense being tickled by two people could be.
As embarassed as she was at her situation, her **** continued to inflame with her arousal. Her feet were being tortured by two expert ticklers, and the thin stockings made it ten times worse. Her nipples were so stiff they felt like they were about to explode, and her clit itched so bad she would have done anything to relieve herself.
Just when she thought it couldn't get anymore intense, it did.
While both her feet were being tickle tortured, each of her ticklers reached up with their other hands and began to prod and pinch her hips.
The girl's mind nearly melted. For several long seconds, it tickled so bad, she couldn't even draw breath. Her lungs locked up tight, and the sensations built up to a breaking point. Just as her head began to spin, she drew a deep, heavy breath through her nose, and screamed bloody murder.
The scream of agony dissolved into hysterical laughter. She never felt this before; her two most ticklish places being tickled so viciously by two separate ticklers...it was indescribable. She screamed between laughs, her toes wiggling defenslessly against the onslought of torture.
Her pussy continued to ache, only now, she felt a warm sensation wash over her entire body...a feeling she only felt right before an orgasm.
Her entire vibrated. Her lungs locked up again for a split second as her pussy clenched tightly on only itself. The orgasm tore through her body like a bunkerbuster. She screamed at the very top of her lungs as the intense tickle torture drove her over a cliff she didn't even know existed, an incredible, heavenly cliff of inhuman torture and pleasure all mixed into one. Her ears rang, her eyes flashed, and her lungs felt like they were aflame as her pussy convulsed on itself over and over again for several long, delicious seconds.
The tickling never ceased. The poor girl came her little heart out, but she still couldn't stop laughing. The fingertips and nails didn't let up, stroking her smooth, stockinged arches and heels, digging into her writhing, sensitive hips. She laughed and laughed, hiccupping every few moments from the inconsistent breathing. She never felt like this before, so alive while so helpless.
Her mind spun as she felt a second wave approaching. Her feet and hips felt so much more ticklish after she came, and that orgasm was so intense, she didn't think she would be able to bear another one. Her toes clecnched as the second wave of pleasure crashed into her twice as hard as the first, her clit throbbing and aching, her pussy lips bright pink and enflamed, as she felt herself squirt a small amount of her juice onto the couch beneath her. She couldn't stand it; it felt so good it almost hurt, her insides were twisting over themselves in pleasure as she came twice even longer than the first time. The ticklish sensations in her waist and feet fed the orgasm, and as it continued to rage through her body, she became scared that it might not end!
Still, the tickling did not stop. Within literally only a few seconds, her third climax approached, and between screams of muffled laughter, she begged for mercy. "NononononononoooooooooooOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!" she squealed out, as her body was assailed with yet another crushing, nearly painful wave of pleasure that enveloped her entire body, from her ears to her post-orgasmically sensitive and ticklish soles.
For several minutes, the pair of torturers continued to tickle their victim, driving her through countless intense, immesurable orgasms, forcing her pussy to squirt multiple times onto the couch to which she was bound. Soon, the woman's mind began to grow weak; she felt distant, lightheaded...the tickling sensations never faded as she passed into unconsciousness. For several long moments after she passed out and her torturers stopped assaulting her body, she twitched as her nervous system continued to fire.
Lady Laura smiled at the man. They began to untie the nearly naked, exhausted woman, and discussed part two of their plan...
OMG! This is the best story I have EVER read! Thank you for spending the time to write this. 
