It was only me, him, and this bedroom. I the lee, he the ler, and the bed perfect for the tickling activities we both desire. His threats to tickle me have been exactly to my liking. His teasing about what he would do to me if he got me alone filled me with mad desire. I did not wish to be any where else. He is what I wanted. Without any hesitation at all, I let him gently poke my sides. I giggled, and said, “Do it again! I love that!”
“I will tickle you fiercely. Come to bed with me, and be mine. I’ll make you sweat, and blush, and laugh, and scream.”
“I double-dog dare you to give me everything you’ve got!” Yes, I dared him. Was he the tickler he claimed to be? It was time to find out. He was hot. I was hot. It was time for a summer sizzle.
He removed the top sheet from the bed and laid it out in a square shape on the floor. I was a virgin to being wrapped like a mummy in a sheet with just my face and feet sticking out, but I had always fantasized about doing it. I’m not sure if he had given this sheet-wrap treatment to anyone else, but he had had lots of time to imagine us doing it, so he directed me like a pro. He tucked the sheet under me securely as he rolled me up, and after about two minutes, he secured the wrapping with a small bit of tape to ensure it would stay all tight like a cocoon.
I was surprised at how effective this method of bondage was. My body wasn’t able to sit up, and my arms were in position at my sides. My legs could not kick, but I could move my feet a bit. The tape prevented me from loosening this sheet-cocoon by rolling; although, I couldn’t get enough momentum to turn onto my side. So, I was flat on my back, until he wanted things differently. I began to tease him a little my wiggling my toes. I flexed my feet.
“Tickle monster, it’s a shame I’m all wrapped up like this because I’m feeling so ticklish. Do you like my red nail polish? I applied it with you in mind. Come and get me.” I flexed and pointed my toes a bit more, showing off the smoothest soles. I hoped this was enough to make him tickle torture me. “Tickle monster, I’m not sure you have the strength to give me the tickling I desire from you. I am certain you will tire before I will. If you start to feel faint, or get a cramp, let me give YOU a safe word. I hope you ate your breakfast!”
“That just bought you a blindfold. If you don’t shut up, I’ll gag you until the tickling commences.” He was smiling at me, and although he had a blindfold handy, he did not actually put it on me. I was about to ask him about this, but he went to my feet, and began to slowly stroke them.
I couldn’t stand the way he paid such close attention to my reactions. He studied my face, listened to the noises I made, and nothing I did escaped his study. For example, he discovered that light stroking with two hands on the same foot produced a screaming giggle. The hands were so focused, and worked in unison to drive me crazy. Both stroked my soles; the left one up and down, while the right hand worked from left to right. I felt little circles. He used different pressures. I tried holding in my noises at first, with the hope that he would tire of his technique, but this ler was patient. He waited for the sound he knew was coming. When I let out my screaming giggle, he moved to the top of the same foot; his spider-crawling fingers filled me with sensations, and I gasped for air.
“I’ve been tickling for about 2 minutes, and I’ve only just begun. Helena is so ticklish. I just can’t believe it. Kitchy, kitchy, cooooooooooooooo! I’m gonna getcha. Helenaaaaaaaa, don’t fight it. Giggle hard, my dear.”
More spider-crawling fingers, with both hands, wandered over to my other foot, and took my breath away for a moment, and I involuntarily snorted a bit before giggling. I felt my face flush just a bit, and I struggled to free myself from my cocoon, but I was stuck. I wondered how much foot tickling I could withstand.
“Let me just test the arches. How about both at the same time, and then one after the other? You’ll love this.” I turned my head to the side so I couldn’t look at him. He never took his eyes off me though. Ten fingers on the arches of my feet felt amazing. It blew my mind. I suffered in a delicious way. When he moved to the other foot and repeated his torture, I think I fell in love with him for being so devious.
Then, he rocked my world. My mind and body, along with his methods of teasing me, and tickling me, made me smolder, and weaken. He used his hands, his feet, his mouth, his chin, and anything else he could think of to tickle me. It felt so good. He had explored my feet completely. He discovered through trial and error every secret wanting I had, and indulged them all. I cried, and moaned, and begged for mercy again, and again, and again. My bare feet belonged to him now.
After time had passed, though I cannot say what time it was, those wild sensations in my feet traveled up my legs, and I was unraveling quickly. My hair was so tangled and messy from sweat and struggle. My voice was hoarse from all my sounds. He showed no signs of stopping and I contemplated using my safe word. But, my body was preparing to come, and there was nothing to do to prevent it. This devil owned me.
“I can’t let you take me to orgasm. Please, no. Please stop. Don’t.”
“You love it. You need it. You want me to do it again. I must.”
“Who's your master, Helena. Tell me?"
I whispered, "You are."
My back arched, and tears ran down my face as I climaxed for him.
“I will tickle you fiercely. Come to bed with me, and be mine. I’ll make you sweat, and blush, and laugh, and scream.”
“I double-dog dare you to give me everything you’ve got!” Yes, I dared him. Was he the tickler he claimed to be? It was time to find out. He was hot. I was hot. It was time for a summer sizzle.
He removed the top sheet from the bed and laid it out in a square shape on the floor. I was a virgin to being wrapped like a mummy in a sheet with just my face and feet sticking out, but I had always fantasized about doing it. I’m not sure if he had given this sheet-wrap treatment to anyone else, but he had had lots of time to imagine us doing it, so he directed me like a pro. He tucked the sheet under me securely as he rolled me up, and after about two minutes, he secured the wrapping with a small bit of tape to ensure it would stay all tight like a cocoon.
I was surprised at how effective this method of bondage was. My body wasn’t able to sit up, and my arms were in position at my sides. My legs could not kick, but I could move my feet a bit. The tape prevented me from loosening this sheet-cocoon by rolling; although, I couldn’t get enough momentum to turn onto my side. So, I was flat on my back, until he wanted things differently. I began to tease him a little my wiggling my toes. I flexed my feet.
“Tickle monster, it’s a shame I’m all wrapped up like this because I’m feeling so ticklish. Do you like my red nail polish? I applied it with you in mind. Come and get me.” I flexed and pointed my toes a bit more, showing off the smoothest soles. I hoped this was enough to make him tickle torture me. “Tickle monster, I’m not sure you have the strength to give me the tickling I desire from you. I am certain you will tire before I will. If you start to feel faint, or get a cramp, let me give YOU a safe word. I hope you ate your breakfast!”
“That just bought you a blindfold. If you don’t shut up, I’ll gag you until the tickling commences.” He was smiling at me, and although he had a blindfold handy, he did not actually put it on me. I was about to ask him about this, but he went to my feet, and began to slowly stroke them.
I couldn’t stand the way he paid such close attention to my reactions. He studied my face, listened to the noises I made, and nothing I did escaped his study. For example, he discovered that light stroking with two hands on the same foot produced a screaming giggle. The hands were so focused, and worked in unison to drive me crazy. Both stroked my soles; the left one up and down, while the right hand worked from left to right. I felt little circles. He used different pressures. I tried holding in my noises at first, with the hope that he would tire of his technique, but this ler was patient. He waited for the sound he knew was coming. When I let out my screaming giggle, he moved to the top of the same foot; his spider-crawling fingers filled me with sensations, and I gasped for air.
“I’ve been tickling for about 2 minutes, and I’ve only just begun. Helena is so ticklish. I just can’t believe it. Kitchy, kitchy, cooooooooooooooo! I’m gonna getcha. Helenaaaaaaaa, don’t fight it. Giggle hard, my dear.”
More spider-crawling fingers, with both hands, wandered over to my other foot, and took my breath away for a moment, and I involuntarily snorted a bit before giggling. I felt my face flush just a bit, and I struggled to free myself from my cocoon, but I was stuck. I wondered how much foot tickling I could withstand.
“Let me just test the arches. How about both at the same time, and then one after the other? You’ll love this.” I turned my head to the side so I couldn’t look at him. He never took his eyes off me though. Ten fingers on the arches of my feet felt amazing. It blew my mind. I suffered in a delicious way. When he moved to the other foot and repeated his torture, I think I fell in love with him for being so devious.
Then, he rocked my world. My mind and body, along with his methods of teasing me, and tickling me, made me smolder, and weaken. He used his hands, his feet, his mouth, his chin, and anything else he could think of to tickle me. It felt so good. He had explored my feet completely. He discovered through trial and error every secret wanting I had, and indulged them all. I cried, and moaned, and begged for mercy again, and again, and again. My bare feet belonged to him now.
After time had passed, though I cannot say what time it was, those wild sensations in my feet traveled up my legs, and I was unraveling quickly. My hair was so tangled and messy from sweat and struggle. My voice was hoarse from all my sounds. He showed no signs of stopping and I contemplated using my safe word. But, my body was preparing to come, and there was nothing to do to prevent it. This devil owned me.
“I can’t let you take me to orgasm. Please, no. Please stop. Don’t.”
“You love it. You need it. You want me to do it again. I must.”
“Who's your master, Helena. Tell me?"
I whispered, "You are."
My back arched, and tears ran down my face as I climaxed for him.
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Here's hopin' that your dream comes true, Helena. 
