RosieCreek
TMF Poster
- Joined
- May 4, 2001
- Messages
- 107
- Points
- 0
It’s me, Julia and I’m back for my revenge. A few days, on somewhat of a dare by my old friend Mike, I found myself securely bound and tickled to within an inch of my life. Within the space of that hour, I felt helpless, dread, excitement, extreme pleasure, pure torture and above all, discovered how unexpectedly and deathly ticklish I still am. Our deal was that if I survived the hour, I could name my prize, and I am here today to collect it. I believe the tickling I received during that hour was the most intense experience of my life, and ever since then, I have wanted to see what it was like to be in the drivers seat, so to speak, and see if I could dish it out as well as I could receive this torment.
So, here I am, straddling Mike, who is spread-eagled beneath me on his bed, arms and legs secured to the 4 posts of his bed, wearing nothing but briefs and a nervous smile. Our terms are the same as they were for me last week. I get one full hour, total access to every square inch of him, however, he can call it off at any time by saying |”I give up.” If he does give up before the hour, though I make the rules for his follow up punishment, and if he does go the distance, he can decide what to do with me next. I’m not really sure which outcome I want.
I’m wearing my favorite camisole and panties, deep sapphire in color. This morning I got a French manicure, and all day my fingers felt like they were made for tickling. In fact, I can hardly wait to get started, but first I’m enjoying this moment. Mike and I are old friends, but we have never been intimate, and I have never tickled him, right now, I feel like an explorer, with this vast unknown, territory beneath my fingers that needs discovery. I am in no hurry and want to savor this as much as possible. My fingers are very sensitive and they will notice the nuances of his muscle spasms, the attempts at withdrawing, and the feeling for where the ticking will be pleasure and where a torture. I reach down with the fingers of one hand and slowly graze his lower abdomen with my nails, very lightly, back and forth. He tenses up immediately and looks even more worried. Oh boy, this is going to be fun! I’m still using only one hand, but dragging my fingertips back and forth, a bit more each time, along his lower abdomen and waist. Ok, one thing I want to say to you guys is that when you are with a new woman, pay attention to the way she touches you, because more than likely, it is the way she wants you to touch her back. At least that is the truth in my case. I bring out my second hand, and together, my fingertips with a touch of nail begin gliding lightly over his belly, back and forth, tickling lightly, they work their way up his sides. He is really squirming, muscles tense and breathing hard. I know this would tickle me like crazy and I can see how hard he is struggling to hide it. I have to say something. “This really, really tickles, doesn’t it?” He says nothing. “You’re dying to laugh, aren’t you?” I keep it up with my fingertips, up and down his ribs, back and forth across his belly. Still, he says nothing, but I know it’s killing him, and it won’t take much to make him explode with laughter. A thought passes through my mind quickly, as I wonder what it would feel like to have a woman (or maybe two!) tickle me like this.. I am pretty sure it would drive me out of my mind. Well, back to Mike, I say “Tough guy, huh? I think there is a really ticklish little boy hidden in side of you. Tickle, tickle, tickle!” I start tickling faster, I really mean it this time, I’m out to tickle him crazy and my fingers are skittering up and down his sides, across his belly, fast as lightning and he can’t help it, the laughter DID explode out of him, and he is laughing hard, squirming and thrashing, begging me to stop. I give him a 10 second breather as I ask “Want to give up, little boy? Too much for you?” He knows the consequences if he does, so he manages to shout out “NO!” I reach up and tickle his palms, and then lightly tickle down his forearms, and he knows just where I am headed. “Oh no Oh no, oh no! He’s pleading, but I am relentless and I start stroking him around the armpits, to the sides of them, above and below. How well I know the terrible anticipation he has to be feeling, and then I make contact with those deliciously ticklish armpits, tickling, tickling, tickling as I hear the desperate, gasping laughter and feel him bucking beneath me, trying with every fiber of his being to dislodge me and my tickling fingers, but he fails miserably. What a ride! After several minutes of this torture, I give him another few seconds break. I realize I have been laughing pretty hard too, at the sheer fun of this. I take another look at his helpless body, and I have to say, seeing him so utterly helpless, and knowing I can do anything I want to this deathly ticklish body, the power I feel is intoxicating. I can’t believe, even though I know it first hand, the incredible ability of the merest touch of my fingers to elicit such a tremendous response, to be able to truly torture someone, if I wanted…with just a tickle.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” I say. I pull out a long, fairly stiff feather and begin tickling his neck and ears with it. He’s squealing like a little girl! That makes me laugh, too, but I keep going, tickling in and around that sensitive neck, then down to the nipples, which have hardened tremendously. He’s laughing and squirming again, but not quite as desperately as before. I figure as long as I have this feather, I could test a few other locations, so I hop off the bed and go stand at the feet. I drag the feather up and down the soles, but he merely twitches and smiles a bit, saying “This I the best you can do?” I can’t believe, it, he wants more! Dragging that feather between the toes is another matter. Those toes are so cute, the way they curl down trying to protect the vulnerable soles, but of course, they can do nothing of the kind, as I prove by stroking them with my fingernails, up and down, first one, then the other, then both of them at once. Hey! I forgot to ask him, so I do now. “Ok, Mike…I want you to tell me, which is worse. This?” As I stroke one foot with one fingernail. “or this?” as I tickle madly, up and down, but only on one foot. “Or how about this?” Now both hands are at work, tickling both feet at once, tops and bottoms, in between toes and underneath, up and down the soles, without any real mercy at all. After a few minutes of giggling that escalates to hard laughter, struggling against his bonds and gasping for air, I give him another short break and a chance to give up. He’s panting hard, but will not give up. I start tickling again, up his legs, stroking his knees in a really evil, obviously torturous way, then the thighs, outer and inner and I’m back to where I started. I tickle back up his sides again, then squeeze them on the way down, and am shocked at how much that seems to tickle. His laughter deepens with the squeezing, and turns to giggling again with light tickling.. Oh, this poor guy, I am a little sympathetic, because I know what this exhaustion is like, too. We’re coming to the end of his rope, and I see that I only have about 10 minutes left. I reach underneath and grab his butt, and he screams with laughter, proving to be so ticklish there that he lifts himself about 3 feet off the bed, trying to escape. Just long enough for me to slip those briefs down. Total access, indeed. I have it! I reach down with both hands, running a fingernail lightly scratching each side of his groin, and then down to the cheeks, tickling them thoroughly, and then the balls. The screaming laughter is truly desperate now, and I can tell he can’t take much more. There is one more thing I have to try, though. I think when people say “Stick it where the sun don’t shine” this is where they mean…the perineum. That little line which Miriam-Webster so inelegantly describes as “the area between the anus and the posterior part of the external genitalia”. Yep, I have to try it. I take just one fingernail and gently tickle the length of this line. The effect is instantaneous and electric. For several seconds he is absolutely breathless, face scarlet and dripping sweat, he is unable to laugh, scream, or speak. I wiggle that finger in front of his face, and make a move as to return to the magic spot and this time he does scream and I know at this moment, I could get him to promise me anything, and I mean anything. Luckily for him, he has just exceeded the 60 minute mark in time. I look at him, and I don’t know he can be so completely spent, and still have such a raging hard-on. I am flooded with affection for him, and a tiny bit of guilt for putting him through such a terribly ticklish wringer. I am going to take good care of him now, but this is where I draw the curtain around us, and ask you to give us our privacy. I don’t tickle and tell.
So, here I am, straddling Mike, who is spread-eagled beneath me on his bed, arms and legs secured to the 4 posts of his bed, wearing nothing but briefs and a nervous smile. Our terms are the same as they were for me last week. I get one full hour, total access to every square inch of him, however, he can call it off at any time by saying |”I give up.” If he does give up before the hour, though I make the rules for his follow up punishment, and if he does go the distance, he can decide what to do with me next. I’m not really sure which outcome I want.
I’m wearing my favorite camisole and panties, deep sapphire in color. This morning I got a French manicure, and all day my fingers felt like they were made for tickling. In fact, I can hardly wait to get started, but first I’m enjoying this moment. Mike and I are old friends, but we have never been intimate, and I have never tickled him, right now, I feel like an explorer, with this vast unknown, territory beneath my fingers that needs discovery. I am in no hurry and want to savor this as much as possible. My fingers are very sensitive and they will notice the nuances of his muscle spasms, the attempts at withdrawing, and the feeling for where the ticking will be pleasure and where a torture. I reach down with the fingers of one hand and slowly graze his lower abdomen with my nails, very lightly, back and forth. He tenses up immediately and looks even more worried. Oh boy, this is going to be fun! I’m still using only one hand, but dragging my fingertips back and forth, a bit more each time, along his lower abdomen and waist. Ok, one thing I want to say to you guys is that when you are with a new woman, pay attention to the way she touches you, because more than likely, it is the way she wants you to touch her back. At least that is the truth in my case. I bring out my second hand, and together, my fingertips with a touch of nail begin gliding lightly over his belly, back and forth, tickling lightly, they work their way up his sides. He is really squirming, muscles tense and breathing hard. I know this would tickle me like crazy and I can see how hard he is struggling to hide it. I have to say something. “This really, really tickles, doesn’t it?” He says nothing. “You’re dying to laugh, aren’t you?” I keep it up with my fingertips, up and down his ribs, back and forth across his belly. Still, he says nothing, but I know it’s killing him, and it won’t take much to make him explode with laughter. A thought passes through my mind quickly, as I wonder what it would feel like to have a woman (or maybe two!) tickle me like this.. I am pretty sure it would drive me out of my mind. Well, back to Mike, I say “Tough guy, huh? I think there is a really ticklish little boy hidden in side of you. Tickle, tickle, tickle!” I start tickling faster, I really mean it this time, I’m out to tickle him crazy and my fingers are skittering up and down his sides, across his belly, fast as lightning and he can’t help it, the laughter DID explode out of him, and he is laughing hard, squirming and thrashing, begging me to stop. I give him a 10 second breather as I ask “Want to give up, little boy? Too much for you?” He knows the consequences if he does, so he manages to shout out “NO!” I reach up and tickle his palms, and then lightly tickle down his forearms, and he knows just where I am headed. “Oh no Oh no, oh no! He’s pleading, but I am relentless and I start stroking him around the armpits, to the sides of them, above and below. How well I know the terrible anticipation he has to be feeling, and then I make contact with those deliciously ticklish armpits, tickling, tickling, tickling as I hear the desperate, gasping laughter and feel him bucking beneath me, trying with every fiber of his being to dislodge me and my tickling fingers, but he fails miserably. What a ride! After several minutes of this torture, I give him another few seconds break. I realize I have been laughing pretty hard too, at the sheer fun of this. I take another look at his helpless body, and I have to say, seeing him so utterly helpless, and knowing I can do anything I want to this deathly ticklish body, the power I feel is intoxicating. I can’t believe, even though I know it first hand, the incredible ability of the merest touch of my fingers to elicit such a tremendous response, to be able to truly torture someone, if I wanted…with just a tickle.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” I say. I pull out a long, fairly stiff feather and begin tickling his neck and ears with it. He’s squealing like a little girl! That makes me laugh, too, but I keep going, tickling in and around that sensitive neck, then down to the nipples, which have hardened tremendously. He’s laughing and squirming again, but not quite as desperately as before. I figure as long as I have this feather, I could test a few other locations, so I hop off the bed and go stand at the feet. I drag the feather up and down the soles, but he merely twitches and smiles a bit, saying “This I the best you can do?” I can’t believe, it, he wants more! Dragging that feather between the toes is another matter. Those toes are so cute, the way they curl down trying to protect the vulnerable soles, but of course, they can do nothing of the kind, as I prove by stroking them with my fingernails, up and down, first one, then the other, then both of them at once. Hey! I forgot to ask him, so I do now. “Ok, Mike…I want you to tell me, which is worse. This?” As I stroke one foot with one fingernail. “or this?” as I tickle madly, up and down, but only on one foot. “Or how about this?” Now both hands are at work, tickling both feet at once, tops and bottoms, in between toes and underneath, up and down the soles, without any real mercy at all. After a few minutes of giggling that escalates to hard laughter, struggling against his bonds and gasping for air, I give him another short break and a chance to give up. He’s panting hard, but will not give up. I start tickling again, up his legs, stroking his knees in a really evil, obviously torturous way, then the thighs, outer and inner and I’m back to where I started. I tickle back up his sides again, then squeeze them on the way down, and am shocked at how much that seems to tickle. His laughter deepens with the squeezing, and turns to giggling again with light tickling.. Oh, this poor guy, I am a little sympathetic, because I know what this exhaustion is like, too. We’re coming to the end of his rope, and I see that I only have about 10 minutes left. I reach underneath and grab his butt, and he screams with laughter, proving to be so ticklish there that he lifts himself about 3 feet off the bed, trying to escape. Just long enough for me to slip those briefs down. Total access, indeed. I have it! I reach down with both hands, running a fingernail lightly scratching each side of his groin, and then down to the cheeks, tickling them thoroughly, and then the balls. The screaming laughter is truly desperate now, and I can tell he can’t take much more. There is one more thing I have to try, though. I think when people say “Stick it where the sun don’t shine” this is where they mean…the perineum. That little line which Miriam-Webster so inelegantly describes as “the area between the anus and the posterior part of the external genitalia”. Yep, I have to try it. I take just one fingernail and gently tickle the length of this line. The effect is instantaneous and electric. For several seconds he is absolutely breathless, face scarlet and dripping sweat, he is unable to laugh, scream, or speak. I wiggle that finger in front of his face, and make a move as to return to the magic spot and this time he does scream and I know at this moment, I could get him to promise me anything, and I mean anything. Luckily for him, he has just exceeded the 60 minute mark in time. I look at him, and I don’t know he can be so completely spent, and still have such a raging hard-on. I am flooded with affection for him, and a tiny bit of guilt for putting him through such a terribly ticklish wringer. I am going to take good care of him now, but this is where I draw the curtain around us, and ask you to give us our privacy. I don’t tickle and tell.
