Embraceabl
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SmileyTkls said:
Oh wow Troy, It took me a while to dig that one up. It was on an older computer. I wrote that in, oh my gosh, in "94" I think.
Actually another TMF member here was a definite factor in helping me to get that posted. Ticklebelly (Mark
) is one of my best friends from New Orleans. He was kind enough to read and reread it for me till I thought I had gotten it right; then he had to show me how to post. Definitely a great time in my life!. Mark, if you see this, please know that you and all the great times we and the gang from the Nature Center shared, still live strong in my memories. I hope you’re still living life to the fullest!Here you are Troy, the story that inspired you to write and say hello to me. Look at us now, still great friends after all this time.
WHO DO YOU BELONG TO?
by Nicoleskye
The bindings felt soft against my skin, soft yet unyielding. I tried to look around but I was unable to see under the dark mask that covered my eyes. The bed was comfortable beneath me and I was naked on top of it.
I could feel you watching me, could hear your breathing quicken as I shifted on the bed testing my bonds. My body trembled and my own breathing speeded up, as if I had run a race. I had to calm down. I didn't know exactly what was in store for me but for the moment I had to stay calm. I could feel your entire focus on my body and I could see the view I presented from your eyes. My arms and legs spread out to the four corners of the bed. My hair spread out against the pillow. My breast rising and falling with every breath; nipples, hardening under your scrutiny. Much to my embarrassment I could feel my body responding, the wetness between my legs betraying me.
And still you make me wait.
A sound of movement alerts me to your location. Without warning, the palm of your hand cradles the sole of my right foot. This small action demonstrating how truly vulnerable I am more effectively than words. You remove your hand, leaving behind a warmth and tingling that carries its message to the very core of me.
I feel the tip of one finger as it draws small circles on my big toe, then a long slow trace down the length of my foot ending its journey at my ankle. I could not control the sensations that caused my foot to jerk at your gentle touch. Again the warmth of your palm as your hand caresses it way up my leg. Pausing for a brief instant you tantalize the back of my knee with a quick tickle.
My thigh is not spared either the warming caress of your palm or the tickle from the tips of your fingers. The top of my thigh receives the warmth. My inner thigh twitches and stirs under your fingers as they tease, tickle and tantalize higher and higher. The lightest sheen of sweat films over my body. Shamelessly I squirm, needing to feel your fingers on the heat of me. Your fingers skim across the light covering of hair. I was trembling. So close, so very close. . .My hips arched off the bed to complete the contact. Your chuckle increases my dismay at the disappearance of your hand. My moan, poignant in it's frustration.
"Not yet my dear . . . not just yet" Your voice just loud enough to be heard over my moan.
"Please," I whisper, not even caring that you have me begging so early this time.
The feel of your tongue on my nipple makes me jump then sigh at the erotic sensations. The light scrape of teeth electrifies every nerve ending. As your teeth held one nipple captive your fingers began to randomly trace patterns on my other breast. Your teeth give up their claim on my nipple and the coolness of the air makes it even harder. I could not stop what little movement was allowed me within the restraints.
Then it happened. Suddenly the fingers that had been teasing and tantalizing became masters of their true craft. Tickling sensations racked my body and overwhelmed my mind and nervous system in waves. Lost in the erotic haze of the previous sensations, I have no time to build any defense against the tickling. I couldn't tell where I was more ticklish; the parts of me that had been touched or the parts that hadn't. It didn't matter! You now control me completely and no part of me is safe from your tickling.
Even through my laughter I am aware of my body and how you toy with it. No area of skin is spared your touch . . . except for the one place I need you the most. There are moments when I thought I would go mad. My feet are now your targets and you are relentless. I feel you pull my toes back, taking your time, allowing me to catch what breath I could. I begged, I pleaded through my breathing/recovery time. It never occurs to me, how those very pleas fuel your desire to tickle me even more.
Gone are the lightest of teasing touches on the bottom of my foot. It is now an all out tickle attack and my foot serves as the battle ground. My mind becomes blurred with the sensations. Your nails are brought into play, never painful, but relentless in their role in the tickling that occurs. You sense whenever I seem as if I'm becoming immune to your ministrations and move on. Never one to take anything for granted you ignore my other foot for the moment and pursue other areas.
The softest of strokes across my belly announce your arrival.
A long pause.
I am allowed to catch my breath and anticipate your next caress. The seconds draw out and I become as unnerved by the waiting as I am by the actual tickling. A part of me wishes I could see your face at this moment of waiting. . .
I can't seem to stop moving. I can't control the softer giggles that escape even though I am not being touched. My body releases a deep ragged breath.
"Please . . . please no more tickling!"
I no longer care that you have reduced me to this level of begging. Perhaps in the days that follow I will look back and scoff at my weakness. Perhaps. . .
"Who do you belong to?"
I feel you lean over me as you voice that question.
Silence.....
"Come now my ticklish little pet, who do you belong to?"
This particular game makes us hot for different reasons. Me, because I am never even the least bit submissive out of the bedroom and even then, our play never includes the words 'slave' or 'master.' Agreeing with that when we first started playing, you take great joy in coming up with a whole host of other words to take the place of those. I am appalled by very idea of admitting any such thing to you; yet on the other hand impressed with the creativity that you employ to work around my rules. You, on the other hand, have always loved to match wits and intellect with me and love nothing more than to make me beg and squirm and in the end . . . submit.
Silence. . .
Ever so slowly your fingers begin the torture they were so well designed for. Your memory serves you well and I am hysterical as you explore every sensitive area along my stomach and sides. Your fingers dance and play, lightly then firmer. Softly prodding and light pokes to the sides, the effect guaranteed to drive me insane.
"And now for the ultimate," I hear you announce through my laughter, screams, threats and curses. One fingertip circles my navel.
"Noooooo........." I cry out. Sinking my belly in as flat as possible to my spine then arching up in a totally involuntary movement.
"Please no . . . not there . . . not there!"
"Who do you belong to?"
I could only shake my head in denial.
That one finger and the sensations emanating from my navel became my entire focus. This was one of the places that can bring me to my knees. Sensations from there travel throughout my entire body. Your fingertip first circles outward. Small, complete little circles that I could not escape from. Then you reverse the process and the circles became smaller and smaller as you prepared me for what was sure to come. Under the blindfold my eyes squint tightly closed as if to ward off the maddening sensations. Tears escaped the corners of my eyes and my laughter echoed through the room.
As I wait for the finger to make its first foray into that soft indentation in my belly your finger leaves me and I can feel you step away from the bed. My laughter evens out to uncontrollable giggles and I squirm from the sensations that still run along my nerve endings.
"You're still giggling and I'm not even touching you" you say in a teasing voice.
My head automatically turns towards the sound of your voice.
"Don't worry my dear; this is not over. I just wanted to get a little something."
"Please no . . . no more. . . I can't take it." My plea, heart-wrenching in it's sincerity.
"Are you prepared to answer my question?"
"Please . . . please. No more. . . " I am ashamed at how weak I sound.
"I'll ask again, perhaps you do not remember the question... Who do you belong to?"
My resolve strengthens. I become mute. The only outward sign that I even heard you is the negative shake of my head. For a moment your soft laughter fills the room.
"Not to worry my dear, I'll help loosen your tongue and change your mind"
With that statement something small, soft and fuzzy traced down the center of my nose. That small distraction made your return to my navel completely startling. My body jerked and trembled as you once again began to make outward circles from my navel. The circles were a bit broader now and touched more and more of my stomach. I could only giggle and twist but your finger never lost it's course. Reversing the directions of your circles you begin your return to my navel. The circling became slower and slower. My focus becomes the agonizing wait for that finger to once again reach it's destination. I couldn't help the scream that escaped as the q-tip you held in your other hand made it's first descent into that indentation.
Sensations overwhelm me as I try to deal with the finger that never ceases it's circling and the unbearable feel of the q-tip. Laughter, and cries for mercy blend together. I thrash about as much as the bonds will allow, trying to dislodge both your finger and the q-tip. Seconds become hours as you ignore my pleas for mercy and continue to tickle. I am slowly being driven mad. The q-tip stopped it's teasing explorations as your finger reached it's destination. Poking gently you allow me no rest.
I can feel myself weakening physically and emotionally. Suddenly surrender does not seem such a distasteful option. Through my laughter and pleading, I feel your finger leave, only to be replaced by your tongue. The warmth and wetness joining in to tickle, pushing me closer to the edge. My body moves of it's own accord, all illusion of any semblance of control is stripped away. Your hands move a bit lower to hold my hips steady and your tongue never stops. Your thumbs find the slight indentation where my inner thighs meet my groin. The softest of strokes there, enough to short circuit my nervous system. Totally out of control now I do nothing but respond. On a distant level I am aware of my pelvis straining to make contact with any part of you. It is as if I know that one touch to my clit or for that matter any where in the general area will ignite the climax I so desperately need to cancel out the tickling.
"You need to cum, don't you? You want me to carry you over the edge?"
"Please," I cried out through sobbing laughter.
"Who do you belong to, little one?" Your tone, casually indulgent
I feel you back away, the warmth from your body receding a bit. I can still feel the wetness from your tongue and sensation still courses throughout my body. Your hands leave my hips and I move with uncontrollable need. My body wordlessly offering . . . begging for the touch I need the most. You're close enough that I can feel you walk around the bed. My hips thrust again, demanding your attention. One finger traces patterns on the big toe of the foot ignored earlier. I know that I will not be able to take much more. I felt more sensitized that I have ever been in my entire life. My ankle is freed from the bed post. The restraint remains and you elevate my foot. At the first feel of the tip of your tongue on my arch my electrified reaction almost allows for escape. Not to be caught off guard a second time you wrap the end of the restraint around and around your hand. Holding my foot with both hands you apply the lightest scraping of teeth to the ball of my foot.
"Please. . . " I cry out as your tongue follows the path of your teeth. Once again I feel of your teeth gently scraping the underside of my big toe, your tongue quick to follow. Holding my foot you can feel the trembling that racks my body. You kneel on the bed between my thighs. I can feel the warmth of you getting closer and closer. You have not released the hold of the tether around my ankle and my leg bends to accommodate the foot that is slowly drawn up. A soft puff of air blows across my clit.
"Please," I whimper.
Your tongue passes over my clit, once. Heaven! Still I need more. . .
"Again, please. . . I need to cum so bad. Please don't stop"
"Who do you belong to. . . ?"
I try so hard to resist.
Your finger lightly touches my clit, then another breath of air.
"Answer me angel, who do you belong to?"
"You !" I sob, breaking down completely. "Only you. . . "
Your reaction is instantaneous. Your tongue caresses my clit. At the same time your hand slowly strokes the bottom of my foot. Unable to withstand the dual sensations for more than a few seconds I explode around you. Tremor upon tremor overtakes me and you do not stop. Your tongue laps gently at me and you caress me with one then two fingers. Your hand traces lazy patterns across the bottom of my foot and I cum again. I am released soon after only to be enfolded in your warm embrace. I drift off to sleep protected and safe. You lips brush against my temple.
"You angel . . . only you. . . "
great story Nicole...
I seem to have forgotten myself here. . . 
I MUST DO THIS TO YOU. 
