elsewhere_and
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- Aug 19, 2004
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Er...hullo.
So this was created after making my first friend in here, TropicThunder. Not that anyone in here isn't friendly, I've just been a total lurker forever. Plus, I'm a busy guy. Anyhow, we chatted some and turns out that gang tickling is a popular fantasy for some women.
This was my attempt to sort of see things from a woman's perspective... to try to get a sense of how such a fantasy might operate and where it might be able to take someone. The response I got was that I should post it (I'm reluctant and kinda shy), but in the pieces in which it was written. So that's what I'm doing.
Hope you like it.
Cha cha cha.
=========================================================
She
They eyed her delicately. There were five of them...two dark: dark hair, dark eyes, one with a chiseled chin and a knowing grin...two fair: one blond, one curly blond, both built like sailors. It was the blond she had met in the cafe, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. His name was Devon and he was incredibly friendly, nearly bubbly. She understood now that that was why he was first. It took almost no time for her to get comfortable with him. They were buddy buddy, intimate sharing, teasing and flirting. But her impressions of him and the rest were drowned by the last one whose stare had fixed her to the ground and robbed her of her momentum.
The last one...she thought they had called him Kelsey...he had long dark brown hair with a slim build. His mouth was gentle, but his face held in a mask of dispassionate interest. Almost careless. But his eyes looked black, and they bore into her. She felt exposed under his gaze. Naked. She thought she could feel the beams of his dark eyes penetrating her skin, caressing her every nerve. She shivered.
“Please,” she whispered, “don’t.”
When he spoke, his voice resounded. The air trembled with his voice, like a chorus of violins. “Don’t? Don’t what? What is it you think we’re going to do to you?” His eyes sparked and flashed. She thought back to the conversation she’d had with blond Devon...about how ticklish she was...about how she had had this silly fantasy when she was growing up about being tickled endlessly by a group of hot men...Devon had asked her if she was serious, hadn’t he? He’d offered her a ride home, and they passed by his home...it was huge and beautiful, well kept...another offer of a drink so he could show her around. She could tell him about her fantasy again.
But the reality of the situation was that she was in a strange house, terrified and helpless, surrounded by men, each one capable of taking her down and holding her there. And the man whose name might be Kelsey kept her pinned with his eyes. There was a nearly tangible aura of power around him. As her mind raced, images of how she got here surfaced, the car ride, the tour of the house, the large sitting room adorned with pillows and silks, the sudden appearance of his housemates...of how her initial reaction of, Wow...hawt! had turned to I’m really alone here to terror as they playfully knocked her off the couch and into the soft pillowed floor...and then, rather inexplicably, the images of her fantasy began to intermingle. He’s probing my thoughts, she thought madly, I can feel him.
The images of her fantasy, brightened and cleared, as if he was drawing them out and polishing each one. He spoke again and the air tickled with his words. “You haven’t answered me...what is it you think we’re going to do to you?”
She could feel the words, each syllable touching her.
He’s like a god, she thought, I’m about to be raped by a god.
“I could also ask...” She heard the word "ask" as a tickling shiver that began at her ears and darted down through her body to her sex. Her mouth opened involuntarily. “What it is that you’d like us to do to you?”
“Let me go. Please. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
He regarded her again, letting his eyes rove over her body as she lay sprawled where she had fallen. The playful summer dress she wore was not protection. Her skin crawled taut wherever his gaze fell. He lingered on her exposed thighs and then again on her feet, her sandals left at the door. “Tell me something, do you know the phrase,’Be careful what you wish for’? Hmm?”
All at once, the ring of men, save Kelsey, dropped to their knees beside her. The sudden rush of masculine scent, and their forceful presence made her gasp. She breathed in only them. Her fear shifted a little...terror still engulfed her, but now it had a strange rhythm to its beating. She was sure she could feel Kelsey’s eyes undressing her thoughts. Long forgotten tidbits of the gang tickle fantasy rose from her memory.
“No...” she said, her voice shaking.
“No? It’s a very common turn of phrase...”
“No, please, don’t...”
“It’s not me doing it, Love,” he said with that quivering silk again,” it’s all about you.”
She could feel him sifting her memories. “Please stop.”
“Tell me...”
“No...God, please, no...”
“Come on now...”
She realized the men surrounding her were draping themselves carelessly about the pillows surrounding her. She was finally granted use of her limbs and the clutched her arms around her tightly.
“Tell me how it begins.”
“No!”
One dark and one fair on either side of her...their arms reached out to her and gently took hold of her wrists. Her breath caught as she felt hands tracing circles on her wrists. She squirmed. Her insides quivered. The other two lay at her feet and she felt them take hold of her ankles. Free will flooded her and she immediately began to thrash about. But it was much too late. Strong hands held her down and gentle touches began to traces lines over her limbs as they were pulled tight.
“Tell me how it began,” Kelsey said again. At his words images came against her will into her mind. “What is it you want from us? How does it begin?”
Her mind was filled with the delicate brushing of feathers.
“Oh, God...please no....”
“Oh, yes, Sweetheart. That is indeed how we’ll begin.”
As the stroking of her trapped limbs continued, Kelsey strolled around the ring. The fingers touching her worked their way slowly up her arms, up her legs, teasing her feet. She tried to buck some more, but succeeded only in having her arms and legs stretched out more completely. Her hands and feet were pulled under pillows.
She felt straps around her wrists and ankles.
Her breath began coming in heaves.
Kelsey stood above her, reaching his hands down, brushing her hair away from her face, reaching down to the buttons of her dress. His fingers worked as their fingers traced. Her was exposed to her waist, save her bra.
“I believe you requested feathers.”
Long plumes and stiff quills were drawn out from places she could see. They descended to her thighs, arms, belly, chest and naked, naked feet.
Oh, God
So this was created after making my first friend in here, TropicThunder. Not that anyone in here isn't friendly, I've just been a total lurker forever. Plus, I'm a busy guy. Anyhow, we chatted some and turns out that gang tickling is a popular fantasy for some women.
This was my attempt to sort of see things from a woman's perspective... to try to get a sense of how such a fantasy might operate and where it might be able to take someone. The response I got was that I should post it (I'm reluctant and kinda shy), but in the pieces in which it was written. So that's what I'm doing.
Hope you like it.
Cha cha cha.
=========================================================
She
They eyed her delicately. There were five of them...two dark: dark hair, dark eyes, one with a chiseled chin and a knowing grin...two fair: one blond, one curly blond, both built like sailors. It was the blond she had met in the cafe, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. His name was Devon and he was incredibly friendly, nearly bubbly. She understood now that that was why he was first. It took almost no time for her to get comfortable with him. They were buddy buddy, intimate sharing, teasing and flirting. But her impressions of him and the rest were drowned by the last one whose stare had fixed her to the ground and robbed her of her momentum.
The last one...she thought they had called him Kelsey...he had long dark brown hair with a slim build. His mouth was gentle, but his face held in a mask of dispassionate interest. Almost careless. But his eyes looked black, and they bore into her. She felt exposed under his gaze. Naked. She thought she could feel the beams of his dark eyes penetrating her skin, caressing her every nerve. She shivered.
“Please,” she whispered, “don’t.”
When he spoke, his voice resounded. The air trembled with his voice, like a chorus of violins. “Don’t? Don’t what? What is it you think we’re going to do to you?” His eyes sparked and flashed. She thought back to the conversation she’d had with blond Devon...about how ticklish she was...about how she had had this silly fantasy when she was growing up about being tickled endlessly by a group of hot men...Devon had asked her if she was serious, hadn’t he? He’d offered her a ride home, and they passed by his home...it was huge and beautiful, well kept...another offer of a drink so he could show her around. She could tell him about her fantasy again.
But the reality of the situation was that she was in a strange house, terrified and helpless, surrounded by men, each one capable of taking her down and holding her there. And the man whose name might be Kelsey kept her pinned with his eyes. There was a nearly tangible aura of power around him. As her mind raced, images of how she got here surfaced, the car ride, the tour of the house, the large sitting room adorned with pillows and silks, the sudden appearance of his housemates...of how her initial reaction of, Wow...hawt! had turned to I’m really alone here to terror as they playfully knocked her off the couch and into the soft pillowed floor...and then, rather inexplicably, the images of her fantasy began to intermingle. He’s probing my thoughts, she thought madly, I can feel him.
The images of her fantasy, brightened and cleared, as if he was drawing them out and polishing each one. He spoke again and the air tickled with his words. “You haven’t answered me...what is it you think we’re going to do to you?”
She could feel the words, each syllable touching her.
He’s like a god, she thought, I’m about to be raped by a god.
“I could also ask...” She heard the word "ask" as a tickling shiver that began at her ears and darted down through her body to her sex. Her mouth opened involuntarily. “What it is that you’d like us to do to you?”
“Let me go. Please. I don’t want to be here anymore.”
He regarded her again, letting his eyes rove over her body as she lay sprawled where she had fallen. The playful summer dress she wore was not protection. Her skin crawled taut wherever his gaze fell. He lingered on her exposed thighs and then again on her feet, her sandals left at the door. “Tell me something, do you know the phrase,’Be careful what you wish for’? Hmm?”
All at once, the ring of men, save Kelsey, dropped to their knees beside her. The sudden rush of masculine scent, and their forceful presence made her gasp. She breathed in only them. Her fear shifted a little...terror still engulfed her, but now it had a strange rhythm to its beating. She was sure she could feel Kelsey’s eyes undressing her thoughts. Long forgotten tidbits of the gang tickle fantasy rose from her memory.
“No...” she said, her voice shaking.
“No? It’s a very common turn of phrase...”
“No, please, don’t...”
“It’s not me doing it, Love,” he said with that quivering silk again,” it’s all about you.”
She could feel him sifting her memories. “Please stop.”
“Tell me...”
“No...God, please, no...”
“Come on now...”
She realized the men surrounding her were draping themselves carelessly about the pillows surrounding her. She was finally granted use of her limbs and the clutched her arms around her tightly.
“Tell me how it begins.”
“No!”
One dark and one fair on either side of her...their arms reached out to her and gently took hold of her wrists. Her breath caught as she felt hands tracing circles on her wrists. She squirmed. Her insides quivered. The other two lay at her feet and she felt them take hold of her ankles. Free will flooded her and she immediately began to thrash about. But it was much too late. Strong hands held her down and gentle touches began to traces lines over her limbs as they were pulled tight.
“Tell me how it began,” Kelsey said again. At his words images came against her will into her mind. “What is it you want from us? How does it begin?”
Her mind was filled with the delicate brushing of feathers.
“Oh, God...please no....”
“Oh, yes, Sweetheart. That is indeed how we’ll begin.”
As the stroking of her trapped limbs continued, Kelsey strolled around the ring. The fingers touching her worked their way slowly up her arms, up her legs, teasing her feet. She tried to buck some more, but succeeded only in having her arms and legs stretched out more completely. Her hands and feet were pulled under pillows.
She felt straps around her wrists and ankles.
Her breath began coming in heaves.
Kelsey stood above her, reaching his hands down, brushing her hair away from her face, reaching down to the buttons of her dress. His fingers worked as their fingers traced. Her was exposed to her waist, save her bra.
“I believe you requested feathers.”
Long plumes and stiff quills were drawn out from places she could see. They descended to her thighs, arms, belly, chest and naked, naked feet.
Oh, God
