ArizonaTickler
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This is my first story in quite a while, let me know what you think. (Don't worry, the intro may be a little long, but there is tickling!)
Love Is Insanity - Part I
The young paralegal could not afford another mistake. Getting ahead was tough, and he was skating on thin ice already after a string of several small but consistant snafus that the lawyers he worked for were getting increasingly annoyed with. And to make matters worse, he had screwed up with this particular client a few times before. In a large packet of legal documents every client has to sign, he had missed a signature in a slightly older divorcee's packet on her way out the door. Now, he slipped out the back door of the law office, and gave her a call on his cell phone - against regulation - but so as to not be heard by anyone else in the office.
"Hello, Mrs. - err - Miss Jones."
"This is she, who is this."
"This is Rob, from the Law Offices of -"
"Oh, not you again. This is the fourth time you've given me a call, another mistake, I presume?"
"Well, perhaps I just like seeing you" tried to joke Rob, but Patricia Jones did not find it the least bit amusing. Rob wasn't completely joking, though, he did find her somewhat attractive, dispite her being about 5 years his senior.
"Well, if you expect me to go back down there, forget it. I am sick and tired of having to put up with your mistakes."
"Look, this is sort of against the rules, but since I've inconvenienced you so often before, and all I need is a signature, I can meet you anywhere just to get it."
"Anywhere... hmm," Patricia thought, partially outloud. "You can bring it by the house right now, and I will be more than happy to sign - If you are willing to jump through a few hoops for me."
"Thank you, Miss Jones, I'll be more than happy too! Thank you so much for accomodating me like this, I promise this will be the last time you see me!" Rob really hoped this was the last time, as if he had to see Patricia again, he would likely have made yet another mistake, and she wasn't likely to be quite so accomodating in the future.
He arrived at her house in about 15 minutes. In the divorce with her husband, she'd taken the house, and it was quite a big house. He pulled up the long drive, jumped out of his car and ran to her door. He rang the bell, and after a short wait, the door opened.
"Miss Jones, I am so sorry, but thank you again for being so accomodating. If you could just sign here -"
"Not just yet, Rob, I believe it is, I did ask for a few favors from you..." From behind the door, she pulled a bottle of champagne.
Rob, believing he was being seduced, started to back away. "I apologize, Miss Jones, but I think there was a misunderstanding..."
"Well, you mentioned that bringing these documents here was against your office policies. If you are so quickly to leave, I might just call your bosses about this little infraction. After the rest that you have made, I'm not sure you'll be getting a promotion anytime soon. Besides, it is just a drink with a divorcee that has grown a bit lonely in this big, empty house - even before my ex husband left."
Figuring that if it was just a drink, and not wanting to get in any more trouble at work, he begrugingly agreed. "One more thing, Robert, and this may sound a bit odd, but, do you have any armpit hair?"
"Mam?" asked Rob, completely confused by the question.
"I simply will not drink with a man with armpit hair, if you have any, you'll need to shave before we drink."
"Well, I have some, but I trim..."
"I'm afraid you'll have to shave, deary, the guest bathroom is down the hall to the left. I'll pour the drinks after you shave.
Very confused, Rob did as instructed, shaving his armpits for the first time in his life. He had always believed that shaving armpits was reserved for females, something that any self-respecting man would surely never do. But he didn't want to put his career in jeopardy for a belief that no one knew about and would also likely never know that he was betraying. He put his shirt and suit jacket back on first, not wanting to give Patricia any sort of impression that he was, in fact, trying to do anything more than have a drink. Although he wanted to do more, he was still young and idealistic, and sleeping with a client was simply not something to do, he thought.
He made his way back out to the kitchen, where Patricia Jones was still in her business suit from work earlier. Her wealth also bought her the benefit of several high dollar creams, making her face appear younger than her age. She had short hair, recently dyed blonde, probably as an attempt to attract new, younger men, now that she was back on the market. Divorcee's often tried to make their exes jealous in this way, Rob guessed. She was very small in stature, all of 5'2, and quite a slender thing. Almost delicate, despite her slightly advanced age and far more advanced experience than he.
She handed Rob the glass, as her hand brushed his. Her hand was also very soft, with long, recently manicured nails. Rob never understood why some women had such nails, imagining they always got in the way. However, that was his last thought for a little while, as after the first sip, the world began to fade and he collapsed to the ground.
------
Rob awoke in a room with grey walls. He tried to move, but he could not. He realized his hands were tied above his head. He was seated in a chair, with his legs stretched out infront of him, his feet in a wooden contraption covered in black felt, like something out of a medieval movie. Upon this realization, he received a burst on adreneline, taking him out of his groggy state and into a panic. He began tugging at his bonds. "Help, help!" he called.
"Well well well, looks like someone is awake." Patricia's familiar voice brought Rob's gaze across the room. She was now in a white, see through robe, with white lingerie underneath. She was still a very tight package, probably putting her body as a priority after her divorce, again trying to attract a new mate to make her ex jealous, Rob would have assumed, if he wasn't so distressed by the situation.
"Let me go!" yelled Rob. He now realized that he had been stripped down to his undershirt. He still wore his pants and shoes, though.
"Now now, I think you are forgetting who is in the position of power here," stated Patricia. "I promise, this may be a little uncomfortable at first, but this won't hurt a bit. And it won't leave a mark... nothing permanent anyways."
Rob, having no idea what she was about to do to him, but imagining it had something to do with a paddle or some other unsavory sort of torture, said, "Please, I'll do anything you want if you'll just untie me!"
"But if you were untied, it would make it much easier to get away. And you will try to get away. Everyone does. It's just a natural reaction, I'm afraid." said Patricia as she moved closer.
Rob, very career focused, didn't have much time to keep in shape, so he didn't exactly have a six pack. But he was still in good shape, using what little time he had to jog or lift weights. Rob wasn't exactly popular in high school, and this left a perminant chip on his shoulder, so he always tried to look good, just incase he ran into anyone from his past.
Patricia inched closer. "Please, don't hurt me, Miss Jones," said Rob, his voice becoming more timid.
"Rob, please, call me Patricia. And tell me. Do you ever wonder why some women have such long nails?" she wiggled her fingers as she approached. "Well, I don't know about all women, but let me tell you, some of us, have such long nails so we can do this."
She approached Rob from his left side, and put his hand at his wrist. Taking one finger, she lightly started down his arm. At she reached his forearm, Rob started to draw away. Then, she reached his elbow, not as much as a reaction, but as she took it into his upper arm, his reaction increased again. Rob felt a discomfort, and as she reached his armpit, he chuckled a bit, dispite his predicament. It... tickled. Then, she took all five fingers, and did the same thing. Rob, knowing what was coming this time, tried to grin and bare it, but with the extra fingers working their magic this time, a single chuckle escaped his lips.
Rob thought she was toying with him. "I don't know what you are doing, but please, just get it over with."
"But this is exactly what I am doing," she said, wiggling her fingers as she traced down his arm this time. A few more chuckled escaped Rob's mouth as the fingers reached his pit again.
"You're... going to tickle me?" asked Rob. A little hope in his voice, as he was worried about torture. Tickling, he figured, he could take, if that was infact what was going on, but he was still unsure.
Catching the hope in Rob's voice, Patricia said, "Oh, I'm not just going to - tickle - you." She attacked his pit again with every mention of the word tickle. "You've probably never been - tickled - for more than a few seconds, perhaps minutes. I am going to - tickle - you beyond what you have ever, EVER been - tickled -" using both hands in both pits this time, and maintaining this until the resolution of her statement. Rob began to chuckle harder, slowly turning into more of a hearty laugh. He began to tug at his bonds again. " before. And I am going to do this all night long. And this is just a beginning, not even a small taste of what I have in store for you tonight. By the end of the night, you will wish I was doing ANYTHING else but tickling you!" She began to cackle with Rob's cackling. A few seconds after she concluded her statement, Rob mixed in a "Stop!" with his laughter. And she complied.
"See, that's not quite as easy to take as you think. You have a long night in store, and I am going to delight in every single minute of it!"
Slightly more concerned, but still not entirely worried, Rob caught his breath. No wonder you are a divorcee, he thought. If this was your kink, tickle torturing a man all night long, he didn't imagine anyone wanted to stay with her very long. While not unbearable, he thought, it would certainly become annoying, a very time consuming activity that she seemed to get a lot out of, that would only annoy her mate. Anyways, he thought, she won't be doing this to anyone else, I'll be calling the police as soon as I get out of here.
Patricia then put a leg over rob, and took a seat on his lap. Something Rob would have liked in almost any other circumstance. She then brought her face close to his. "Oh, Rob," she said, as she brushed her hand across his face, turning to tickling as she reached his neck. Rob let out a chuckle, and Patricia let out a smile. "Ticklish there too, eh?" She then took both hands and started lightly scratching each side of his neck. Rob began giggling, more of a childish giggle than before, a "Hehehehehe" kind of giggle. He crained his neck from side to side, but was unable to escape. Like she had said earlier, everyone tried to escape, the bonds were necessary. "Rob, Rob, Rob, Rob, Rob..." Patricia continued over the giggling. "I am going to have so much fun with you tonight."
"Oh Rob, before I completely break you, which I will certainy do, and that will come later, why don't we get to know eachother a bit? Tell me Rob, you seem to be in the office a lot. Do you have time to date?"
Yeah, because I am really going to date you after all of this, thought Rob. "Yes," said Rob, "I date lots of women." This was not true, Rob spent so much time at work, he really didn't have much time to get out and date. Weekends mostly consisted of recharging for the next week, and hanging out with a small group of friends that rarely admitted new members, limiting his chances of meeting anyone new.
"Now Rob, are you lying to me?" asked Patricia. She gave him a quick tickle to his armpits, then another to his neck. "Do you really think that is a good idea?"
"How would you know?" asked Rob.
"I'm the one asking the questions," said Patricia, "And since you are being uncooperative, let's see if these ribs of yours are at all ticklish!" She put her hands up under Rob's undershirt, and started lightly dancing her nails around his ribs. This was the most ticklish spot she'd discovered yet on Rob, and she was all the more happy to exploit. Rob had a second to brace himself as she had announced her intentions slightly before, but he couldn't hold back the laughter for more than a second. It felt like little lightning bolts were shooting around his entire body. He struggled against his bonds, trying to jerk his arms down to protect his defenseless ribs. "Whatcha gonna do, Robby?" taunted Patricia. "Whatcha gonna do?" Rob continued to try to jerk free, first trying to pull his left arm down, jerking his left side, then his right arm, jerking his right side, and continuing to alternate, laughing all the while, with an occasional gasp for air mixed in. "Do you really want to use all of that energy? You've had a long day at work, and a long night ahead of you. Although I do love how you try to fight, both against your bonds and the tickling. It just turns me on to slowly break a man down. But this is clearly your first time, you will be absolutely no challenge. I had plenty of practice on my ex husband, not to mention numerous other men in my past. But my ex, he slowly built up resistances to certain tactics, so he would present certain challenges, none of which I were ever too great for me to defeat. I did enjoy those challenges. But this, this complete and utter helplessness of the first several times, this is just excellent."
"And now that my husband is out of the picture, as you build up certain resistances, I have a whole bag of tricks to go to, so it will be quite a while before you present any sort of challenge to me, if you ever do."
Rob was too busy laughing to pay much attention to Patricia's rambling. Worrying that he'd missed the point of her monologue, she stopped. "Now, Rob, did you hear what I said?" she gave him another quick rib tickle. "It's really in your best interest to pay attention. Now what did I just say?"
Rob thought back, able to comprehend the words now. He realized she had said, "several times."
"You think I'll ever come back here?!" asked Rob, a bit out of breath.
"Absolutely you will, my dear. I guarantee it. But let's get back to the matter at hand. You lied to me, and there are consequences for doing that. That was the worst bit of tickling I've given you yet, but it will be nothing compared to what lies ahead, especially if you insist upon being a liar. Now, tell me what I already know."
"No, I don't date, I don't have a girlfriend," said Rob, not realizing that was his first submission of the night.
"And why not?" she brushed back his hair with one hand, still leaving the other underneath his shirt for a quick tickle, causing a bit of a spasm.
"I work too much."
"But a handsome young man like you, there certainly must be women throwing themselves at you."
"If they were, I probably wouldn't even realize it."
"Do you think I'm throwing myself at you, darling Robby?"
"I suppose so."
"I suppose you never noticed how when I was leaving your office, I could have gone to one of the female paralegals to finish off the paper work, especially after the first few mistakes you made. But I kept coming back to you, even waiting longer when you were with another client, when the other paralegals weren't busy."
"I suppose not," answered Rob.
"Not to worry, Robby. Had you noticed, it wouldn't have been this easy to pull you into this little web you find yourself in. Especially not with your idea or morals." Upon saying the word web, she stuck her other hand back under his shirt, and danced her nails down his chest to his stomach. Rob chuckled again. "Oh my, ticklish everywhere, aren't you? What a predicament you are in."
She went back to tickling his ribs, a bit gentler than before. "Now, I did say we'd get to know eachother, so I suppose I will answer your question. I just noticed you in the office a lot, and I know your type. The young, idealistic go-getter. So eager to please, willing to work late whenever your bosses ask, you haven't learned how to say no yet. And that was part of my attraction to you, dear Robby."
Rob was only able to giggle. He tried to form a sentence, "Hehehe, I think, hehehe, I think, hahahaha, that it would be-Hehehehe, easier, to-hohohoooo get to know eachother if you untied - HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Upon the mention of the word untied, she picked up the pace. She now tickled him all over his upper body, moving her hands from his ribs, to his armpits, back to his ribs, and then to his stomach. "You'd be surprised how well I can get to know someone this way. And thinking that I'd let you down, it hasn't even been 15 minutes, there are hours of this to come. It's a good thing tonight is a Friday, so you won't have to go into the office early tomorrow. In fact, I might just keep this up all weekend long. Would you LIKE that, Robby?" She stepped it up even another notch upon the word like, working her fingers like a master musician or craftswoman. She played each rib like the string on a guitar, attacked his stomach like she was putting the finishing touches on a sculpture.
"NO-hohohohohoho!" Rob managed to get out. He had never been tickled like this before, never been tied down before. This was quickly becoming worse than he had imagined. He could see this might be more than a minor annoyance. With the tickling not allowing him to concentrate on one thing for any too long, and the laughter now allowing him to catch his breath, causing his lungs and stomach to hurt a bit. This was starting to feel like a real test of strength, something he suddenly wasn't sure he'd be able to take. Unfortunately, it didn't matter if he could take it, the tickling would continue throughout the night, if he was to believe his captor. Perhaps tickle torture really was, tickle torture.
Focusing back on his captor now, he noticed a particular look in her eye. She was in a mode right now. It was almost as if she were looking through him, focusing completely on tickling, making him laugh harder than before. She also had a smirk across her face, she was really enjoying it. She would occasionally come out of that mode, the tickling would lighten up a little bit, and she would assess the situation, taking everything in. His laughter, the increasingly desperate look on his face, his skin beneath her fingers, and her complete control of everything. It was in these moments, perhaps about 10 seconds out of every minute, that her smile would grow wider, her eyes looking him up and down, and her tongue licking her lip. It was clear that this was her favorite thing in the world. And during one of these temporary, ever so slight respites, that Rob could process that he was really in trouble.
"Ah, Robby," said Patricia. "I can see that you are starting to get a better grasp of the situation," noticing the changing expression of his face. "You think this tickles? You think this is torture? You have no idea. I could make it even more intense, try a few more places, and in less than 10 minutes, I could completely break you. But that wouldn't be as fun. I want to keep you in this state for a little while longer. How long do you think this little session has lasted," she said as she lightened up, and eventually stopped the tickling altogether.
Rob gasped for breath, unable to answer for a second. He urged on by a quick pinch of his sides, causing him to jump and bringing him back to reality. "I don't know" said Rob, "About 20 minutes."
"Try five minutes, dearest," said Patricia. "We've barely spent 20 minutes together down here in my dungeon. You see, when you are faced with tickle torture, time starts to move slowly. You think it's been an hour, it's been 15 minutes. You think it's been 2 hours, it's been half an hour. You think it's been a day, it's been 4 hours. You see, tonight will, without a doubt, be the longest night of your life. But it's okay, I'll be here to guide you through it. I won't do anything you can't handle... not right now, anyways."
Rob was confused by a few things. Having time to gather his thoughts, he realized a few things. First, he was really thirsty. Second, he could tell that Patricia knew what she was talking about, when she mentioned tickle torture. But he didn't imagine Patricia would ever allow someone to control her, despite her small stature, she clearly delighted in the control. Third, he was very thirsty. Fourth, Patricia did seem to care about him, despite inflicting this torture upon him. And lastly, that he was very thirsty.
Patricia left his lap for the moment and went to a nearby table. He couldn't see much of what was on the table, but he did make out a water bottle with a straw. It was this she grabbed for him and put to his lips. Rob went at it.
"There you go, deary" said Patricia. But then she pulled it away, "Not too much though, I don't want you to cramp, any more than necessary."
Rob noticed that the muscles in his arms and legs ached from yanking at his restraints. Apparently, these restraints had been effective for many other men, many other times, and he had no reason to think he should be able to escape. Also, if he wasn't able to escape from his ticklish trashings, he wouldn't be able to escape without that aid. He became increasingly resigned to his fate that this was going to be a very long night. She did say he was going to eventually give him more tickling than he could handle, and he believed it. But he wasn't sure quite what that meant. He hoped that it would not result in any permanent damage.
"Why?" asked Rob.
"Oh, we'll get into that later, deary." Said Patricia, again stroking his hair. "But that will be later. For now, let's just say that I like to. And I really like to. But for now, I'd like to explore you a bit more."
"Why is this your most favorite thing in the world?" asked Rob, panting. If he couldn't escape, at least he might be able to get her talking. This might prevent her from tickling, or at least cause her to tickling to be less effective, as she would have to concentrate on her words. But the problem was, if he was being tickled, he wouldn't exactly to be in a position to converse, so it would only be a temporary relief. Besides, it was clear she was a pro, so even if her tickling was less effective, it would still tickle like hell.
She moved behind his chair, which wasn't exactly a chair. Most of his back was exposed, although shirted, and she started tickling his back, concentrating on his lower back. "I'm not quite prepared to share that little tid bit with you, yet. But this should tickle a little less than before. We might be able to get to know eachother a little bit more now. How many girlfriends have you had, Rob?"
"Hehehehehe - not many-ye-hehehehe," answered Rob between giggles. This was a sore spot for Rob, he had only had one relationship, and that didn't last terribly long. He longed for a girlfriend, but rarely found himself in the position to get one.
"Being coy, are we?" asked Patricia. She moved her hands back to to his sides, attacking his ribs, then continuing on to his chest and stomach.
"Okay! Oka-hay-hay-hay-hay-hay! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha! I'm sor-ry-he-he-he-he-he! AH HA HA ha ha ha ha ha!" Answered Rob between laughs.
"I don't want you being coy with me, Robby, you can tell me anything. And you will. You will learn that there are also consequences for being coy." Her hands continued to dance across his front. Eventually, they crossed eachother, and her right hand was attacking his left set of ribs, and vice versa. This drew her closer to him, and she rested her head on his shoulder. It was almost as if she were hugging him.
This woman is completely insane, his brain occasionally formed, between the thoughts of "OH MY GOD THIS TICKLES!" and "STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP!"
As she hugged him, she used her nose to tickle his neck, continuing the assault on his ribs, occasionally sneaking her hands up to his armpits to get an additional reaction from those spots that were currently receiving less attention. He tried to jerk his head again, but careful not to headbutt Patricia. He didn't want to find out what the consequences would be for doing that. And oddly, on some level, he found he really didn't want to hurt her, to cause her physical pain. He still, of course, planned on calling the police as soon as he was released.
As he jerked his head around, Patricia repositioned herself and met his cheek with a quick kiss. She quickly went back to the ticklish nuzzling of his neck with her nose.
Rob was close to hysterics. Tickling was coming from all over, and this odd form of compassion she seemed to be showing him somehow seemed to increase his ticklishness. He was in full fledged laughter, unable to control anything but an occasional thought that flowed through his brain.
She removed her head from his shoulder, and slowly danced her fingers back towards his back, but did pay particular attention to his nipples on the way back. This seemed to elicit renewed struggling, and she knew that she had found a particularly sensitive spot she would save for later.
As her fingers moved back to his back, and Rob's laughter slowly returned to chuckles, she asked again, "So, many girlfriends, Rob?"
"No, only one," Rob managed to make out, exhausted from the prior intense tickling that was meant as punishment.
"And why didn't that work out, Robby dearest?"
"We, hehehe, we were not as alike as we thought. She-he-he was very experienced for her age, and me very lacking. I be-lie-heheheheheeeevvvve we'd have the sa-ha-ha-ha-haaaaaaame problem!" Rob was hoping Patricia might realize she hadn't done a great job of choosing her victim.
"I can see how that would be a problem for some people, dearest. But I was looking for someone like you, someone inexperienced. I needed someone like you. I NEED someone like you, Robby. And you will want to be mine. You already are mine, but by the end of the night, you will want to be mine."
"Wha-hah-what about you?" asked Rob. The tickling on his back was becoming more bareable, his sensitivity back there was decreasing.
"Well, I've had my share of men. I haven't seen anyone seriously since my ex. I thought we were meant to be. But, sadly, the things that drew us together ended up tearing us apart. Tickling included."
"He... hehehehehe... LIKED.... hahahaha, to be tickled?" asked Rob.
"That's how we met, deary. I thought it was love, but it was really just lust. We both had our faults, I realized that I was trying to use my tickling to control him, and that in respose, he was also using... other methods... to try to control me. We both became manipulative, and it drove us apart."
"Did he-he-he-he-he tickle you-hoo-hoo-hoo-HAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!"
Upon this suggestion, Patricia went back into attack mode, going after Rob's ribs and pits again, with more intensity than ever before. "How dare you ask me such a thing, I will NOT be tickled!" She flicked each rib like a guitar, attacked each pit like it was a scratch-off ticket. Occasionally, she dug in a little too hard and it hurt. She moved back to his front.
"I know for a fact, that stomach tickling is the most painful form of tickling." She raised his shirt and went after his stomach. His stomach was relatively flat, she could tell there was a six pack under there, but it was concealed by an ever-so-slight layer of fat. She didn't care at this point. He had suggested something he should not have, and he needed to pay. Her fingers traced around his stomach, working figure 8s around each side, she was back in the mode, and not coming out to enjoy the situation. She just worked his stomach.
Rob saw that she was right, and saw her change of mood, and panic again came to his mind. He had been put at ease earlier, but no longer. He would have to be careful what he said, because this was too much to take. His stomach contracted, his muscles trying to avoid her fingers, but there was no avoiding. There was nothing but laughter, sensations, and now pain.
Between the laughs, Rob tried to say he was sorry. He said, "SO-HOHOHOHOHO HAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHA AHAHAHAHA PLEHEEHEEHEEHEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHHO!' He wasn't able to get out more than a syllable, and aside from please and no, which Patricia was all too familiar with hearing men get one syllable out, she didn't register the sorry. Eventually, he managed to yell, "SORRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!"
Upon hearing this, Patricia began to let up again. He didn't know her, her past, how could he have known any better.
"No, I'm sorry," said Patricia, as she stopped tickling. "You're not like the others. I shouldn't have thought you were. I attacked you too fast, too hard, that time. I'll give you a bit of a break. Let's talk, just talk.
She slid her leg back over Rob's lap, her bare foot caressing his waist as it crossed. Rob's shirt was still a bit pulled up, so he felt her toes slide across his abdomin. Rob had not realized Patricia was barefoot before, he had more on his mind then. But he noticed, that like the rest of her, her feet were very soft, perhaps even softer than the rest of her. They were also freshly pedicured, with a deep maroon-like paint on them.
Patricia put her hands around his head. "No, I never let me ex-husband tickle me. He liked to be tickled, I liked to tickle. I do not like to be tickled. I did let him tie me down occasionally, once I grew to trust him, after over a year of tickling him. we agreed that there must never be tickling when I allowed him to tie me down. He was only the second person I allowed to tie me down. But towards the end, when things were starting to fall apart, I had give him a particularly violent, mercilous tickling session. 100 times worse than anything you will face here today. He had hurt me earlier that day, so that night, I gave to him. I didn't enjoy it, I just wanted to punish him. And I didn't even pay attention to his pleas, I just wanted to make him pay. His defenses, that were useful when I enjoyed tickling him, were nothing compared to the tickling I gave him. He was, I realize now, on the verge of slipping out of consciousness. I barely even realized what I was doing.
A few days later, he had tied me down, in the bedroom. I was blindfolded, I had no idea what was about to happen. He had slipped down stairs and gotten my tools. When he came back up, I was caught completely off guard. He just wanted revenge for what I did to him. And I'm sure I gave it to him worse than he gave it to me. But I do not like being tickled. I cannot be tickled. Yet he was tickling me. He started with my worst spot, with my worst tool, with no warning. I immediately panicked. I couldn't stand it. It could not happen. It would not happen. But it happened.
Afterwards, we tried to reconcile, but it was never the same. We had each betrayed eachother, and we couldn't fully trust eachother anymore."
Rob said, "I'm sorry to hear that," feeling true compassion for her, but at the same time thinking that she deserved a little tickling for what she was doing.
"Since then, I've tickled a few men, here and there. But nothing serious. Not until now. Rest, my deary, in a few minutes, we'll start again."
Love Is Insanity - Part I
The young paralegal could not afford another mistake. Getting ahead was tough, and he was skating on thin ice already after a string of several small but consistant snafus that the lawyers he worked for were getting increasingly annoyed with. And to make matters worse, he had screwed up with this particular client a few times before. In a large packet of legal documents every client has to sign, he had missed a signature in a slightly older divorcee's packet on her way out the door. Now, he slipped out the back door of the law office, and gave her a call on his cell phone - against regulation - but so as to not be heard by anyone else in the office.
"Hello, Mrs. - err - Miss Jones."
"This is she, who is this."
"This is Rob, from the Law Offices of -"
"Oh, not you again. This is the fourth time you've given me a call, another mistake, I presume?"
"Well, perhaps I just like seeing you" tried to joke Rob, but Patricia Jones did not find it the least bit amusing. Rob wasn't completely joking, though, he did find her somewhat attractive, dispite her being about 5 years his senior.
"Well, if you expect me to go back down there, forget it. I am sick and tired of having to put up with your mistakes."
"Look, this is sort of against the rules, but since I've inconvenienced you so often before, and all I need is a signature, I can meet you anywhere just to get it."
"Anywhere... hmm," Patricia thought, partially outloud. "You can bring it by the house right now, and I will be more than happy to sign - If you are willing to jump through a few hoops for me."
"Thank you, Miss Jones, I'll be more than happy too! Thank you so much for accomodating me like this, I promise this will be the last time you see me!" Rob really hoped this was the last time, as if he had to see Patricia again, he would likely have made yet another mistake, and she wasn't likely to be quite so accomodating in the future.
He arrived at her house in about 15 minutes. In the divorce with her husband, she'd taken the house, and it was quite a big house. He pulled up the long drive, jumped out of his car and ran to her door. He rang the bell, and after a short wait, the door opened.
"Miss Jones, I am so sorry, but thank you again for being so accomodating. If you could just sign here -"
"Not just yet, Rob, I believe it is, I did ask for a few favors from you..." From behind the door, she pulled a bottle of champagne.
Rob, believing he was being seduced, started to back away. "I apologize, Miss Jones, but I think there was a misunderstanding..."
"Well, you mentioned that bringing these documents here was against your office policies. If you are so quickly to leave, I might just call your bosses about this little infraction. After the rest that you have made, I'm not sure you'll be getting a promotion anytime soon. Besides, it is just a drink with a divorcee that has grown a bit lonely in this big, empty house - even before my ex husband left."
Figuring that if it was just a drink, and not wanting to get in any more trouble at work, he begrugingly agreed. "One more thing, Robert, and this may sound a bit odd, but, do you have any armpit hair?"
"Mam?" asked Rob, completely confused by the question.
"I simply will not drink with a man with armpit hair, if you have any, you'll need to shave before we drink."
"Well, I have some, but I trim..."
"I'm afraid you'll have to shave, deary, the guest bathroom is down the hall to the left. I'll pour the drinks after you shave.
Very confused, Rob did as instructed, shaving his armpits for the first time in his life. He had always believed that shaving armpits was reserved for females, something that any self-respecting man would surely never do. But he didn't want to put his career in jeopardy for a belief that no one knew about and would also likely never know that he was betraying. He put his shirt and suit jacket back on first, not wanting to give Patricia any sort of impression that he was, in fact, trying to do anything more than have a drink. Although he wanted to do more, he was still young and idealistic, and sleeping with a client was simply not something to do, he thought.
He made his way back out to the kitchen, where Patricia Jones was still in her business suit from work earlier. Her wealth also bought her the benefit of several high dollar creams, making her face appear younger than her age. She had short hair, recently dyed blonde, probably as an attempt to attract new, younger men, now that she was back on the market. Divorcee's often tried to make their exes jealous in this way, Rob guessed. She was very small in stature, all of 5'2, and quite a slender thing. Almost delicate, despite her slightly advanced age and far more advanced experience than he.
She handed Rob the glass, as her hand brushed his. Her hand was also very soft, with long, recently manicured nails. Rob never understood why some women had such nails, imagining they always got in the way. However, that was his last thought for a little while, as after the first sip, the world began to fade and he collapsed to the ground.
------
Rob awoke in a room with grey walls. He tried to move, but he could not. He realized his hands were tied above his head. He was seated in a chair, with his legs stretched out infront of him, his feet in a wooden contraption covered in black felt, like something out of a medieval movie. Upon this realization, he received a burst on adreneline, taking him out of his groggy state and into a panic. He began tugging at his bonds. "Help, help!" he called.
"Well well well, looks like someone is awake." Patricia's familiar voice brought Rob's gaze across the room. She was now in a white, see through robe, with white lingerie underneath. She was still a very tight package, probably putting her body as a priority after her divorce, again trying to attract a new mate to make her ex jealous, Rob would have assumed, if he wasn't so distressed by the situation.
"Let me go!" yelled Rob. He now realized that he had been stripped down to his undershirt. He still wore his pants and shoes, though.
"Now now, I think you are forgetting who is in the position of power here," stated Patricia. "I promise, this may be a little uncomfortable at first, but this won't hurt a bit. And it won't leave a mark... nothing permanent anyways."
Rob, having no idea what she was about to do to him, but imagining it had something to do with a paddle or some other unsavory sort of torture, said, "Please, I'll do anything you want if you'll just untie me!"
"But if you were untied, it would make it much easier to get away. And you will try to get away. Everyone does. It's just a natural reaction, I'm afraid." said Patricia as she moved closer.
Rob, very career focused, didn't have much time to keep in shape, so he didn't exactly have a six pack. But he was still in good shape, using what little time he had to jog or lift weights. Rob wasn't exactly popular in high school, and this left a perminant chip on his shoulder, so he always tried to look good, just incase he ran into anyone from his past.
Patricia inched closer. "Please, don't hurt me, Miss Jones," said Rob, his voice becoming more timid.
"Rob, please, call me Patricia. And tell me. Do you ever wonder why some women have such long nails?" she wiggled her fingers as she approached. "Well, I don't know about all women, but let me tell you, some of us, have such long nails so we can do this."
She approached Rob from his left side, and put his hand at his wrist. Taking one finger, she lightly started down his arm. At she reached his forearm, Rob started to draw away. Then, she reached his elbow, not as much as a reaction, but as she took it into his upper arm, his reaction increased again. Rob felt a discomfort, and as she reached his armpit, he chuckled a bit, dispite his predicament. It... tickled. Then, she took all five fingers, and did the same thing. Rob, knowing what was coming this time, tried to grin and bare it, but with the extra fingers working their magic this time, a single chuckle escaped his lips.
Rob thought she was toying with him. "I don't know what you are doing, but please, just get it over with."
"But this is exactly what I am doing," she said, wiggling her fingers as she traced down his arm this time. A few more chuckled escaped Rob's mouth as the fingers reached his pit again.
"You're... going to tickle me?" asked Rob. A little hope in his voice, as he was worried about torture. Tickling, he figured, he could take, if that was infact what was going on, but he was still unsure.
Catching the hope in Rob's voice, Patricia said, "Oh, I'm not just going to - tickle - you." She attacked his pit again with every mention of the word tickle. "You've probably never been - tickled - for more than a few seconds, perhaps minutes. I am going to - tickle - you beyond what you have ever, EVER been - tickled -" using both hands in both pits this time, and maintaining this until the resolution of her statement. Rob began to chuckle harder, slowly turning into more of a hearty laugh. He began to tug at his bonds again. " before. And I am going to do this all night long. And this is just a beginning, not even a small taste of what I have in store for you tonight. By the end of the night, you will wish I was doing ANYTHING else but tickling you!" She began to cackle with Rob's cackling. A few seconds after she concluded her statement, Rob mixed in a "Stop!" with his laughter. And she complied.
"See, that's not quite as easy to take as you think. You have a long night in store, and I am going to delight in every single minute of it!"
Slightly more concerned, but still not entirely worried, Rob caught his breath. No wonder you are a divorcee, he thought. If this was your kink, tickle torturing a man all night long, he didn't imagine anyone wanted to stay with her very long. While not unbearable, he thought, it would certainly become annoying, a very time consuming activity that she seemed to get a lot out of, that would only annoy her mate. Anyways, he thought, she won't be doing this to anyone else, I'll be calling the police as soon as I get out of here.
Patricia then put a leg over rob, and took a seat on his lap. Something Rob would have liked in almost any other circumstance. She then brought her face close to his. "Oh, Rob," she said, as she brushed her hand across his face, turning to tickling as she reached his neck. Rob let out a chuckle, and Patricia let out a smile. "Ticklish there too, eh?" She then took both hands and started lightly scratching each side of his neck. Rob began giggling, more of a childish giggle than before, a "Hehehehehe" kind of giggle. He crained his neck from side to side, but was unable to escape. Like she had said earlier, everyone tried to escape, the bonds were necessary. "Rob, Rob, Rob, Rob, Rob..." Patricia continued over the giggling. "I am going to have so much fun with you tonight."
"Oh Rob, before I completely break you, which I will certainy do, and that will come later, why don't we get to know eachother a bit? Tell me Rob, you seem to be in the office a lot. Do you have time to date?"
Yeah, because I am really going to date you after all of this, thought Rob. "Yes," said Rob, "I date lots of women." This was not true, Rob spent so much time at work, he really didn't have much time to get out and date. Weekends mostly consisted of recharging for the next week, and hanging out with a small group of friends that rarely admitted new members, limiting his chances of meeting anyone new.
"Now Rob, are you lying to me?" asked Patricia. She gave him a quick tickle to his armpits, then another to his neck. "Do you really think that is a good idea?"
"How would you know?" asked Rob.
"I'm the one asking the questions," said Patricia, "And since you are being uncooperative, let's see if these ribs of yours are at all ticklish!" She put her hands up under Rob's undershirt, and started lightly dancing her nails around his ribs. This was the most ticklish spot she'd discovered yet on Rob, and she was all the more happy to exploit. Rob had a second to brace himself as she had announced her intentions slightly before, but he couldn't hold back the laughter for more than a second. It felt like little lightning bolts were shooting around his entire body. He struggled against his bonds, trying to jerk his arms down to protect his defenseless ribs. "Whatcha gonna do, Robby?" taunted Patricia. "Whatcha gonna do?" Rob continued to try to jerk free, first trying to pull his left arm down, jerking his left side, then his right arm, jerking his right side, and continuing to alternate, laughing all the while, with an occasional gasp for air mixed in. "Do you really want to use all of that energy? You've had a long day at work, and a long night ahead of you. Although I do love how you try to fight, both against your bonds and the tickling. It just turns me on to slowly break a man down. But this is clearly your first time, you will be absolutely no challenge. I had plenty of practice on my ex husband, not to mention numerous other men in my past. But my ex, he slowly built up resistances to certain tactics, so he would present certain challenges, none of which I were ever too great for me to defeat. I did enjoy those challenges. But this, this complete and utter helplessness of the first several times, this is just excellent."
"And now that my husband is out of the picture, as you build up certain resistances, I have a whole bag of tricks to go to, so it will be quite a while before you present any sort of challenge to me, if you ever do."
Rob was too busy laughing to pay much attention to Patricia's rambling. Worrying that he'd missed the point of her monologue, she stopped. "Now, Rob, did you hear what I said?" she gave him another quick rib tickle. "It's really in your best interest to pay attention. Now what did I just say?"
Rob thought back, able to comprehend the words now. He realized she had said, "several times."
"You think I'll ever come back here?!" asked Rob, a bit out of breath.
"Absolutely you will, my dear. I guarantee it. But let's get back to the matter at hand. You lied to me, and there are consequences for doing that. That was the worst bit of tickling I've given you yet, but it will be nothing compared to what lies ahead, especially if you insist upon being a liar. Now, tell me what I already know."
"No, I don't date, I don't have a girlfriend," said Rob, not realizing that was his first submission of the night.
"And why not?" she brushed back his hair with one hand, still leaving the other underneath his shirt for a quick tickle, causing a bit of a spasm.
"I work too much."
"But a handsome young man like you, there certainly must be women throwing themselves at you."
"If they were, I probably wouldn't even realize it."
"Do you think I'm throwing myself at you, darling Robby?"
"I suppose so."
"I suppose you never noticed how when I was leaving your office, I could have gone to one of the female paralegals to finish off the paper work, especially after the first few mistakes you made. But I kept coming back to you, even waiting longer when you were with another client, when the other paralegals weren't busy."
"I suppose not," answered Rob.
"Not to worry, Robby. Had you noticed, it wouldn't have been this easy to pull you into this little web you find yourself in. Especially not with your idea or morals." Upon saying the word web, she stuck her other hand back under his shirt, and danced her nails down his chest to his stomach. Rob chuckled again. "Oh my, ticklish everywhere, aren't you? What a predicament you are in."
She went back to tickling his ribs, a bit gentler than before. "Now, I did say we'd get to know eachother, so I suppose I will answer your question. I just noticed you in the office a lot, and I know your type. The young, idealistic go-getter. So eager to please, willing to work late whenever your bosses ask, you haven't learned how to say no yet. And that was part of my attraction to you, dear Robby."
Rob was only able to giggle. He tried to form a sentence, "Hehehe, I think, hehehe, I think, hahahaha, that it would be-Hehehehe, easier, to-hohohoooo get to know eachother if you untied - HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Upon the mention of the word untied, she picked up the pace. She now tickled him all over his upper body, moving her hands from his ribs, to his armpits, back to his ribs, and then to his stomach. "You'd be surprised how well I can get to know someone this way. And thinking that I'd let you down, it hasn't even been 15 minutes, there are hours of this to come. It's a good thing tonight is a Friday, so you won't have to go into the office early tomorrow. In fact, I might just keep this up all weekend long. Would you LIKE that, Robby?" She stepped it up even another notch upon the word like, working her fingers like a master musician or craftswoman. She played each rib like the string on a guitar, attacked his stomach like she was putting the finishing touches on a sculpture.
"NO-hohohohohoho!" Rob managed to get out. He had never been tickled like this before, never been tied down before. This was quickly becoming worse than he had imagined. He could see this might be more than a minor annoyance. With the tickling not allowing him to concentrate on one thing for any too long, and the laughter now allowing him to catch his breath, causing his lungs and stomach to hurt a bit. This was starting to feel like a real test of strength, something he suddenly wasn't sure he'd be able to take. Unfortunately, it didn't matter if he could take it, the tickling would continue throughout the night, if he was to believe his captor. Perhaps tickle torture really was, tickle torture.
Focusing back on his captor now, he noticed a particular look in her eye. She was in a mode right now. It was almost as if she were looking through him, focusing completely on tickling, making him laugh harder than before. She also had a smirk across her face, she was really enjoying it. She would occasionally come out of that mode, the tickling would lighten up a little bit, and she would assess the situation, taking everything in. His laughter, the increasingly desperate look on his face, his skin beneath her fingers, and her complete control of everything. It was in these moments, perhaps about 10 seconds out of every minute, that her smile would grow wider, her eyes looking him up and down, and her tongue licking her lip. It was clear that this was her favorite thing in the world. And during one of these temporary, ever so slight respites, that Rob could process that he was really in trouble.
"Ah, Robby," said Patricia. "I can see that you are starting to get a better grasp of the situation," noticing the changing expression of his face. "You think this tickles? You think this is torture? You have no idea. I could make it even more intense, try a few more places, and in less than 10 minutes, I could completely break you. But that wouldn't be as fun. I want to keep you in this state for a little while longer. How long do you think this little session has lasted," she said as she lightened up, and eventually stopped the tickling altogether.
Rob gasped for breath, unable to answer for a second. He urged on by a quick pinch of his sides, causing him to jump and bringing him back to reality. "I don't know" said Rob, "About 20 minutes."
"Try five minutes, dearest," said Patricia. "We've barely spent 20 minutes together down here in my dungeon. You see, when you are faced with tickle torture, time starts to move slowly. You think it's been an hour, it's been 15 minutes. You think it's been 2 hours, it's been half an hour. You think it's been a day, it's been 4 hours. You see, tonight will, without a doubt, be the longest night of your life. But it's okay, I'll be here to guide you through it. I won't do anything you can't handle... not right now, anyways."
Rob was confused by a few things. Having time to gather his thoughts, he realized a few things. First, he was really thirsty. Second, he could tell that Patricia knew what she was talking about, when she mentioned tickle torture. But he didn't imagine Patricia would ever allow someone to control her, despite her small stature, she clearly delighted in the control. Third, he was very thirsty. Fourth, Patricia did seem to care about him, despite inflicting this torture upon him. And lastly, that he was very thirsty.
Patricia left his lap for the moment and went to a nearby table. He couldn't see much of what was on the table, but he did make out a water bottle with a straw. It was this she grabbed for him and put to his lips. Rob went at it.
"There you go, deary" said Patricia. But then she pulled it away, "Not too much though, I don't want you to cramp, any more than necessary."
Rob noticed that the muscles in his arms and legs ached from yanking at his restraints. Apparently, these restraints had been effective for many other men, many other times, and he had no reason to think he should be able to escape. Also, if he wasn't able to escape from his ticklish trashings, he wouldn't be able to escape without that aid. He became increasingly resigned to his fate that this was going to be a very long night. She did say he was going to eventually give him more tickling than he could handle, and he believed it. But he wasn't sure quite what that meant. He hoped that it would not result in any permanent damage.
"Why?" asked Rob.
"Oh, we'll get into that later, deary." Said Patricia, again stroking his hair. "But that will be later. For now, let's just say that I like to. And I really like to. But for now, I'd like to explore you a bit more."
"Why is this your most favorite thing in the world?" asked Rob, panting. If he couldn't escape, at least he might be able to get her talking. This might prevent her from tickling, or at least cause her to tickling to be less effective, as she would have to concentrate on her words. But the problem was, if he was being tickled, he wouldn't exactly to be in a position to converse, so it would only be a temporary relief. Besides, it was clear she was a pro, so even if her tickling was less effective, it would still tickle like hell.
She moved behind his chair, which wasn't exactly a chair. Most of his back was exposed, although shirted, and she started tickling his back, concentrating on his lower back. "I'm not quite prepared to share that little tid bit with you, yet. But this should tickle a little less than before. We might be able to get to know eachother a little bit more now. How many girlfriends have you had, Rob?"
"Hehehehehe - not many-ye-hehehehe," answered Rob between giggles. This was a sore spot for Rob, he had only had one relationship, and that didn't last terribly long. He longed for a girlfriend, but rarely found himself in the position to get one.
"Being coy, are we?" asked Patricia. She moved her hands back to to his sides, attacking his ribs, then continuing on to his chest and stomach.
"Okay! Oka-hay-hay-hay-hay-hay! Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha! I'm sor-ry-he-he-he-he-he! AH HA HA ha ha ha ha ha!" Answered Rob between laughs.
"I don't want you being coy with me, Robby, you can tell me anything. And you will. You will learn that there are also consequences for being coy." Her hands continued to dance across his front. Eventually, they crossed eachother, and her right hand was attacking his left set of ribs, and vice versa. This drew her closer to him, and she rested her head on his shoulder. It was almost as if she were hugging him.
This woman is completely insane, his brain occasionally formed, between the thoughts of "OH MY GOD THIS TICKLES!" and "STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP!"
As she hugged him, she used her nose to tickle his neck, continuing the assault on his ribs, occasionally sneaking her hands up to his armpits to get an additional reaction from those spots that were currently receiving less attention. He tried to jerk his head again, but careful not to headbutt Patricia. He didn't want to find out what the consequences would be for doing that. And oddly, on some level, he found he really didn't want to hurt her, to cause her physical pain. He still, of course, planned on calling the police as soon as he was released.
As he jerked his head around, Patricia repositioned herself and met his cheek with a quick kiss. She quickly went back to the ticklish nuzzling of his neck with her nose.
Rob was close to hysterics. Tickling was coming from all over, and this odd form of compassion she seemed to be showing him somehow seemed to increase his ticklishness. He was in full fledged laughter, unable to control anything but an occasional thought that flowed through his brain.
She removed her head from his shoulder, and slowly danced her fingers back towards his back, but did pay particular attention to his nipples on the way back. This seemed to elicit renewed struggling, and she knew that she had found a particularly sensitive spot she would save for later.
As her fingers moved back to his back, and Rob's laughter slowly returned to chuckles, she asked again, "So, many girlfriends, Rob?"
"No, only one," Rob managed to make out, exhausted from the prior intense tickling that was meant as punishment.
"And why didn't that work out, Robby dearest?"
"We, hehehe, we were not as alike as we thought. She-he-he was very experienced for her age, and me very lacking. I be-lie-heheheheheeeevvvve we'd have the sa-ha-ha-ha-haaaaaaame problem!" Rob was hoping Patricia might realize she hadn't done a great job of choosing her victim.
"I can see how that would be a problem for some people, dearest. But I was looking for someone like you, someone inexperienced. I needed someone like you. I NEED someone like you, Robby. And you will want to be mine. You already are mine, but by the end of the night, you will want to be mine."
"Wha-hah-what about you?" asked Rob. The tickling on his back was becoming more bareable, his sensitivity back there was decreasing.
"Well, I've had my share of men. I haven't seen anyone seriously since my ex. I thought we were meant to be. But, sadly, the things that drew us together ended up tearing us apart. Tickling included."
"He... hehehehehe... LIKED.... hahahaha, to be tickled?" asked Rob.
"That's how we met, deary. I thought it was love, but it was really just lust. We both had our faults, I realized that I was trying to use my tickling to control him, and that in respose, he was also using... other methods... to try to control me. We both became manipulative, and it drove us apart."
"Did he-he-he-he-he tickle you-hoo-hoo-hoo-HAAAAAA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAA!"
Upon this suggestion, Patricia went back into attack mode, going after Rob's ribs and pits again, with more intensity than ever before. "How dare you ask me such a thing, I will NOT be tickled!" She flicked each rib like a guitar, attacked each pit like it was a scratch-off ticket. Occasionally, she dug in a little too hard and it hurt. She moved back to his front.
"I know for a fact, that stomach tickling is the most painful form of tickling." She raised his shirt and went after his stomach. His stomach was relatively flat, she could tell there was a six pack under there, but it was concealed by an ever-so-slight layer of fat. She didn't care at this point. He had suggested something he should not have, and he needed to pay. Her fingers traced around his stomach, working figure 8s around each side, she was back in the mode, and not coming out to enjoy the situation. She just worked his stomach.
Rob saw that she was right, and saw her change of mood, and panic again came to his mind. He had been put at ease earlier, but no longer. He would have to be careful what he said, because this was too much to take. His stomach contracted, his muscles trying to avoid her fingers, but there was no avoiding. There was nothing but laughter, sensations, and now pain.
Between the laughs, Rob tried to say he was sorry. He said, "SO-HOHOHOHOHO HAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHA AHAHAHAHA PLEHEEHEEHEEHEE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHHO!' He wasn't able to get out more than a syllable, and aside from please and no, which Patricia was all too familiar with hearing men get one syllable out, she didn't register the sorry. Eventually, he managed to yell, "SORRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!"
Upon hearing this, Patricia began to let up again. He didn't know her, her past, how could he have known any better.
"No, I'm sorry," said Patricia, as she stopped tickling. "You're not like the others. I shouldn't have thought you were. I attacked you too fast, too hard, that time. I'll give you a bit of a break. Let's talk, just talk.
She slid her leg back over Rob's lap, her bare foot caressing his waist as it crossed. Rob's shirt was still a bit pulled up, so he felt her toes slide across his abdomin. Rob had not realized Patricia was barefoot before, he had more on his mind then. But he noticed, that like the rest of her, her feet were very soft, perhaps even softer than the rest of her. They were also freshly pedicured, with a deep maroon-like paint on them.
Patricia put her hands around his head. "No, I never let me ex-husband tickle me. He liked to be tickled, I liked to tickle. I do not like to be tickled. I did let him tie me down occasionally, once I grew to trust him, after over a year of tickling him. we agreed that there must never be tickling when I allowed him to tie me down. He was only the second person I allowed to tie me down. But towards the end, when things were starting to fall apart, I had give him a particularly violent, mercilous tickling session. 100 times worse than anything you will face here today. He had hurt me earlier that day, so that night, I gave to him. I didn't enjoy it, I just wanted to punish him. And I didn't even pay attention to his pleas, I just wanted to make him pay. His defenses, that were useful when I enjoyed tickling him, were nothing compared to the tickling I gave him. He was, I realize now, on the verge of slipping out of consciousness. I barely even realized what I was doing.
A few days later, he had tied me down, in the bedroom. I was blindfolded, I had no idea what was about to happen. He had slipped down stairs and gotten my tools. When he came back up, I was caught completely off guard. He just wanted revenge for what I did to him. And I'm sure I gave it to him worse than he gave it to me. But I do not like being tickled. I cannot be tickled. Yet he was tickling me. He started with my worst spot, with my worst tool, with no warning. I immediately panicked. I couldn't stand it. It could not happen. It would not happen. But it happened.
Afterwards, we tried to reconcile, but it was never the same. We had each betrayed eachother, and we couldn't fully trust eachother anymore."
Rob said, "I'm sorry to hear that," feeling true compassion for her, but at the same time thinking that she deserved a little tickling for what she was doing.
"Since then, I've tickled a few men, here and there. But nothing serious. Not until now. Rest, my deary, in a few minutes, we'll start again."
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