Marquis De Sade
1st Level Blue Feather
- Joined
- Nov 21, 2007
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I've read so much great work here recently it inspired me to crap something new out. This is NOT the story some of you know I've been working on with my new partner in crime, Swizzle Stick (shout out!!). This is just something fun I wrote in about an hour.
Hope you all enjoy it. It's sorta like a light salad.
What sucks is, I was gonna submit this to the NEST thing but it's 216 words over the 2000 word limit.
Btw, it's about no one in particular.
“VERY FUCKING FUNNY ASSHOLE!!”
That’s what made me stir.
“GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW AND LET ME OUT!!”
That’s what made me open my eyes.
“UGGGGGHHHHHH!! SunuvaBITCH!!”
That’s what really woke me up.
The thing is, after everyone left last night and she’d passed out on our couch, I just couldn’t help myself.
She was out cold. The handcuffs were under the bed. I put one set around her wrists, another one around her ankles. I used a third set to fasten her ankles to her wrists behind her and did it all in under five minutes. Before second thought even had a chance.
Then I went to bed.
“UGGGGGHHHHHH!! SunuvaBITCH!!”
That’s what really woke me up.
I walked out and put on a show: rubbed my eyes, stretched, yawned loud and said, “Morning.”
She didn’t look very happy.
“Don’t you dare.”
“Don’t I dare what?”
“You know what I’m talking about.”
“You hungry?”
“Yes. Let me out.”
“I could spoon feed you.”
“I SAID LET ME OUT!!” It was cute watching her. Nothing much she could do really and she knew it. Handcuffs are handcuffs.
“I’m serious. This isn’t funny.”
“Oh, you’ll be laughing pretty soon though. Pretty sure of that.”
“Don’t. You. Dare.”
I just grinned. Scratched myself. This was fun.
“I am so dead serious right now. If you tickle me, when you let me out of these I will kill you.”
“Well thanks. Now I know not to let you out.”
“LET ME GO!!”
“In fact, I’m not even sure if I remember where I put the keys.”
“Oh my GOD!!”
I’m not really sure how to describe the sound she made. Sort of a half sigh, but like a real heavy one, and a half grunting thing. Like a bear cub. Maybe.
I’ve never met a bear cub so I wouldn’t know.
I walked over, sat down behind her where she couldn’t see me, and wrapped one arm around her calves.
Her bare feet were a few inches away from my face.
She kicked and struggled, but again, handcuffs are handcuffs, and there isn’t much you can do once you’re in a pair.
Or three.
“Oh my God I am so serious right now if you even –” and that’s as far as she got before erupting into giggles.
The couch bounced with her, with us, with both of us. This was so much fun and a half.
“STOOOOOP!! STOPITSTOPITSTOPIT!!”
You know how people air-mime playing the violin? You hold a hand up near your shoulder and curl your fingers?
Like you’re holding the neck of it?
Then you swipe your hand up and down like you’re playing it? You tilt your head to one side and close your eyes?
Like you’re really feeling it? The music.
That’s what I was doing.
“OHMYGOD STOP!! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?! STOP!!”
Except I wasn’t playing the violin.
“HA!! FUUUUUUUUU-” I’m pretty sure what she was going to say here but she never got to finish her sentence.
It ended with a sort of gargling noise.
With my left hand, I was holding onto her ankles. My head tilted to one side, eyes closed. Like I was really feeling it.
You know, the music.
“OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYG-UUUUUUGGGGHHHHHHHHH-AAAAAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAA!!”
Sort of.
With my other hand, my swiping hand, I had my fingers curled in so just the tips went up and down the outside curve of her right foot.
It wasn’t a violin but it sure as hell made music.
“FACKING STOP IT!! PLEEEEEEEASSE!! Jesus CHRIST YOU ARE SO DEAD!”
“See? Told you you’d be laughing.”
“UUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!! No!! NO. NONONONONONOAHAHAHA!!”
“How about here?”
And my fingers moved up her sole, up to her toes. My eyes still closed, pretending I was playing the piano now.
Upside down.
I have mad skills.
“NO!! NONONONONO!! OH MY GOD JUST YOU WAIT!! JUS-AAAAH!! AAAAAH!”
She crunched her toes up and I had to pull my fingers loose a few times. So I scuttled my fingers across the ball of her foot instead.
Just a real light touch. A sprinkling.
Little taps, scratches. Gentle as if I were tickling underneath a cat’s chin and the cat was loving it.
This wasn’t purring though. This was for sure something else. It was loud, it was emotional.
It was much more loud though than anything else.
“It’s way too early in the morning to be making this much noise.”
“You gag me and I’ll REALLY kill you.”
“No need to. You’ll run out of gas pretty soon.”
And I scratched harder. Tickled harder. Took my fingers and dug in this time. Not painful hard, but hard and deep enough to leave red marks on her sole.
Up and down her sole. Across. My left arm holding onto her calves and holding her foot still. My other hand tickling that soft, sensitive spot right under the ball of her foot.
Her arch.
Then the middle of her arch. Seems the softer her foot got, the louder her cries were.
She started to really buck hard when I cupped her ankle with two hands to keep her foot steady.
With her calves pinned between my arm and my neck, I used both sets of fingers to really dig into her skin.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-MY-GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWD!!”
“SSSSSSSSSSSS-SSSSSSSSST-AAAAAAAAAAAAPPPIT!! SSSSSS-TAAAAAAAAP!!”
Her toes flexed back and forth. I switched feet and did the same thing. Cupped her ankle thing.
She flipped out.
“NOOOOOOOOOO!! NO NOT THE OTHER ONE!!”
I might’ve been lying about the music. The chains, you know, the short ones in handcuffs? They were jingling.
Jingling or jangling, I don’t know the difference or which word works best here but it all added to the soundtrack.
The laughing, all that spitting and hissing. Her trying to hold back for whatever reason.
“Why’re you being so stubborn?”
“WHAT’RE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!”
“You’re not really laughing.”
“Oh you sunuvabitch whaddaya call what I’ve been doing?!”
“Giggling.”
“LET ME GO!!”
“Okay, what about this.”
I squeezed her calves. It still wasn’t laughing. More like a loud whooping noise. Like maybe a bird would make.
“NO!!”
I grabbed one calf, held her leg still and real gently, I tickled her ankle. The tight smooth skin over her bone.
She cackled at that. That’s what I’d call it. Bounced up and down on her stomach. She laughed a little for sure, but it still wasn’t what I was looking for.
Speaking of stomach...
My one arm still wrapped around her calves, just so she wouldn’t know where it was coming, I reached around and poked her hard and fast in her side.
I’d call the sound she made a squeal. This wonderful mix tape of shock and surprise. I must be a maestro.
“NO! OH MY GOD DON’T YOU DARE!!”
I did it again. Her other side.
“PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!! STOP IT!!”
I let go of her calves, dug my hands into her sides, with both of my hands now. My fingers like claws.
I dug both hands in, my fingers stiff. Then I wiggled them around in her sides at the same time.
Then I wiggled just the fingers on my left hand.
Then just my right.
“HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!! Oh my God STOP!! CUT IT OUT ALREADY JESUS!!”
Then both at the same time.
Then I reached under, slipped my hands underneath her middle. She tried digging herself into the couch deeper. Like that would help.
I flipped my hands so they faced up and scratched. She went crazy and I don’t even know what words to use here.
She bucked, thrashed, laughed as hard and as loud as she thrashed and bucked and cushions fell everywhere.
Like I said, this was fun.
I let her rest. Catch her breath a little.
“There we go. Much better. Loosened you up a bit.”
“Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. Had your fun now will you let me out of these?”
“Seriously, I don’t think I know where I put the keys.”
“WELL GO LOOK FOR THEM!!”
“Oh, break’s over.”
“NO!!”
Slid my hands underneath her again, and found her breasts. It was so awesome I don’t even know how to write about it.
Think of...”giggling”. Something stupid like, “She giggled like a babbling brook.”
Or, “She twittered.”
I don’t even know what that means. She did squeal though. Lots of times. Sort of like if you took one squeal and looped it. Then mixed it so all the squeals overlapped each other.
Then you played it all at once. That comes close.
Found her ribs next. This was a real surprise. She actually sort of roared. Like when people say, “She roared with laughter.”
If I were to spell that, it’d be like, “HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOORR!!” But again and again and again.
Between each, “HAAAAAAAAAOOOOOR!!” There was also this huge gasp for air. She’d raise herself up off the couch and come crashing back down again with a, “WHUMP” sound. Every time she lifted herself up she actually made it worse because I had a second to tickle her in all her other places.
Stomach
Belly button
Chest
I reached over and tickled her neck. Another squeal. Then it was how fast she could whip her head to one side to try and stop me.
So I poked her in her left side.
Then tickled the right side of her neck.
Then poked her in the right.
Then squeezed a calf.
Then her other one.
Then tickled the backs of her knees. This caused her to buck all over again and pound her legs back and forth as much as she could.
So I flipped her over, lay on top of her just long enough for me to push her down, use my weight to hold her and give her raspberry.
Real long, fun, messy one.
“AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAARRR!” My God that was a weird noise.
Mix that in with the sound of lips on a stomach with the sound of gasping and both of us laughing.
Maybe this was music.
On her stomach again, catching her breath again. She buried her face in the couch and moaned.
Deep. Tired. Used. Worn out.
I’m sure I could use more words if I really tried but I remember being so much more caught by how beautiful she looked.
I counted her breaths as a second of rest and realized that the seconds were slowing down.
It went from onetwothreefourfivesixseveneight to one, two, three, four, five...
Six...
Seven...
Eight...
I knew her heart rate had dropped. I reached up grabbed a hold of her left foot.
“NO!! NO NOT FEET AGAIN PLEASE!!”
And I tickled her right one instead.
“NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOO-UUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHH!!”
That was all she could muster. After that she was exhausted. I’d tickle her feet a little more but the most she could physically manage were little squeaks and more giggling.
“Looks like you’re done.”
“Good. Let me out.”
“I didn’t say I was done. I said you were done. You need some food. Get your energy back up again.”
“NO!!” This was more of a whine by the way than a threat or a demand.
“Let me go look for the key.” And I got back up again.
“Wait, are you serious you don’t remember where you put them?!”
“Yes.”
“Oh my GOD you are so DEAD!”
I shrugged. Nothing I could do about it really.
I stood up, stretched for real now, yawned because I was hungry and then the doorbell rang.
How do you describe panic?
We looked at each other. The doorbell rang again. I ran over to the door, looked through the peephole.
It was one of the girls from last night. She was all fishbowled in the lens and staring at me weird.
Grinning.
She held a finger up to the glass, twirled her finger. Some set of metal something dangling from her fingertip.
Suddenly it all came back.
Oh.
“WHAT’RE YOU DOING?! YOU CAN’T OPEN THE DOOR NOW NOT WHILE I’M STILL LIKE THIS!!”
She whispered that by the way. Just real loud.
I looked back at her still on the couch, same grin as the girl outside as I unlocked the door and opened it.
“Did you save some for me?”
“She’s a little spent right now, but yeah.”
“WHAT THE HELL?!?!”
“You know what’s funny, I actually did forget where I’d left the keys.”
“Told you I’d better hang onto them. You were wasted last night.”
I take that back. What I said earlier.
Not everybody had left last night when I ran into the bedroom to get handcuffs.
Sorry. I guess I was wasted.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, sweetheart. We are so serious.”
“Not both of you.”
“Yes both of us. Did you have fun just now?”
“NO!!”
“Ooo, still a little fight left in her. I like that.”
“Don’t you dare!!”
“And look, she’s barefoot.”
“NO!!”
“We’ll have to get the rest of these clothes off after breakfast for me though.”
“UNLOCK THESE CUFFS RIGHT NOW!”
“My God she’s cute isn’t she?”
“FUCK YOU!”
“Such a mouth. Can we gag her?”
“Look around, I’m sure you’ll find something. I’m going to make breakfast.”
“NOOOOOOOO!!”
"Oh poor baby. You don't sound too happy."
"I'M NOT!!"
“Oh, you’ll be laughing pretty soon though. Pretty sure of that.”
I’d write the rest, but all this talk of food has really made me hungry all over again.
