A recent correspondence (well, just my half)

You lie face up on the bed. A blindfold covers your eyes and your arms reach high above your head, your wrists tied together to the bars.
Your legs are slightly parted, feet tied to the foot of the bed. I’ve placed a firm pillow beneath the small of your back, arching you slightly, stretching your body. You’re wearing panties and a white blouse with nothing underneath.

I kneel astride your thighs. My weight pushes your lower body gently down and in doing so your back arches slightly more, pushing your chest and tummy up a little, restricting your movements further.

Slowly, starting at the bottom, I unpick each button of your blouse.
As the material parts, it’s light caress whispers across your skin.
Even this tickles ever so lightly, enough for you to begin wondering how it will feel when my fingers finally touch you.

I unpick the last button, and spread the two sides apart, exposing you completely from your underarms to your panty-line. Barely able to move, you know that I am watching you, studying your body as you lie in anticipation of what’s to come. You feel totally vulnerable.

I can reach any part of you. I can lean back to stroke your feet, or forward to caress your underarms. No matter how intense the sensations that you are about to feel get, no matter how much you writhe and struggle, you won’t be able to shift me from where I sit.
For now your body is mine to play with. Mine to tickle and tease for as long and as intensely as I wish.

I lightly blow air across your skin, delighting in the goose bumps this raises and the slight hardening of your nipples. I lean forward; you feel my breath hot against your cheek… ‘Are you ready to be tickled?’ You nod, unable to speak as your breath catches in your throat.

I sit back up, and watch your chest, rise and fall in short, quick breaths. For endless seconds, you wait. As you imagine where you will feel my first touch, your skin tingles almost unbearably.

When at last I lower the soft pads of my fingertips to your rest on your ribs, just below your breasts, your whole body jolts as if touched by an electric current.

My fingertips start to swirl and stroke down across your tummy. The tickling begins……..

Light stroking touches to start; soft feather-light tickles over your skin for an hour or so watching you writhe, giggle and squirm, before tickling deeper, hearing your laughter grow more intense, feeling you struggle helplessly beneath me. But I still wonder where on your body, you're most ticklish. While I'm sure it would be exciting to find out for myself, I also want you to tell me, reveal those secrets.... knowing how much more vulnerable that makes you. Does it turn you on to be tickled? Would you accept more sexual touching while you're tickled? For your nipples and breasts to be stroked, maybe licked and sucked too? While at the same time my fingertips lightly tickle under your arms or across your tummy? Do you want to be dominated completely? Be my plaything, to be tickled at my whim... or do you have some desires of your own you'd like fulfilled?

As you lie blindfolded, unable to move, I would whisper in your ear the things I was about to do, where I might tickle you, how I might tickle you, lightly, or deeper. Long slow languid strokes up your flanks or faster relentless scrabbling over your tummy and the soles of your feet. I'd spend a while just taunting you with what was about to happen or what I will use to enhance your ticklishness... baby oil lightly spread over your skin to help my fingers glide over your ticklish places, a make up brush drawn across your nipples, both pleasurable and ticklish. A soft hairbrush raked over the soles of your feet, almost unbearable in its intensity. And later, to tickle you elsewhere, somewhere more intimate that would have you begging not for me to stop, but never to stop until you reach the edge and the waves of pleasure crash over you. Afterwards, of course, your sensitivity is even more heightened and the tickling begins again, faster, more intensely than before until the sensations are almost too much, almost unbearable yet you arch your back, stretch further and expose yourself to experience every ticklish touch on your bare vulnerable skin.

Nice work. My only critique is in his asking her, "Are you ready to be tickled?" My own personal opinion here but I believe it'd be more powerful simply put, "Are you ready?" minus the mention of what's to come. She, you, we all, know, what's coming without needing to be told. It leaves just a little bit more to the imagination.

Is this piece a two or three parter or a stand-alone? I would've like to see what you mentioned at the end actually unfold.

Thankyou for the feedback. In answer to your question its a stand alone. It is, in fact a blending of a few emails I sent to someone recently as part of a bigger correspondence which I thought might be quite fun to share with a wider audience. As to your critique, I sort of half agree with your point. In this case, my thinking was that the word 'tickled' (and its variants) often has so much power to someone with our fetish but is also very new to the scene that it's use heightens the anticipation even further. With someone more experienced, it's omission would, as you say, leave more to the imagination.

Thanks for all the responses