NHLovenlaughter
TMF Novice
- Joined
- May 28, 2011
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HE SAYS: This story was written by the male member of this joint username, though the female member gave her permission and looks forward to reading both the story and any comments you all leave. We hope you enjoy it, and look forward to your feedback! While this story is fiction, it bears all the traits of many tickling sessions in the past and many more in our future...
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“Put the chair on The Stand.”
Marie loved and hated that Seth made her participate in her own punishment. It was his way of getting inside her head before he even put his fingers on her, and she hated how well it worked. She picked up one of the chairs from the dining room table and carried it into the living room where he had put The Stand, trembling in anticipation but trying not to show it.
The Stand was a three foot cube with four holes drilled six inches into the top, lined up perfectly with the legs of their dining-room chairs. The result was a completely immobile chair that left her feet dangling in the air and her body at an easily reachable height. As she slid the chair into place on top of the stand Marie flashed back to the last time she had been forced into it, the helpless struggling and the inescapable ticklish torment that had made her thrash and squirm until her lung ached from laughter and her resistance was reduced to shaking and trembling in her bonds.
Seth watched her emplace the chair, his eyes running across her bare feet and up her long legs to the hips that had captivated his imagination for years. In her yellow and black pleated skirt and her black satin bra, she looked like an erotic vision fit for the silver screen but instead was walking around his living room. He grinned as he heard the chair settle into place- Marie had learned long ago that looking as sexy as possible and being obedient to instruction were her only defenses to shorten her torment in favor of amazing sex instead, and she was doing everything she could to have a short torment indeed.
“Sit down,” Seth commanded sternly, that indescribable thing laced in his voice that compelled her to do as she was told.
Marie stepped up onto the stand, then pirouetted to sit down on the chair. Without waiting to be told she sat as far back in the chair as she coul,d, parting her knees to straddle the front edge of the seat. Her eyes looked with Seth’s and the look he gave her back made her squirm in her seat as she tried to control her breathing.
Seth walked closer, his box of restraints under his arm. His eyes clung to the curve of her calves as he set the box on the edge of the stand and opened it, watching the silk scarves and rope expand from within like rising bread. His fingers wrapped around a black satin rope and the rope coiled around her left ankle and calf ten times before fastening to the chair’s crossbar, effectively immobilizing her leg. Marie listened to the click of his boots as he walked around the chair behind her and came to a stop by her other leg. Her pulse was already starting to quicken. She knew that there would be ten coils around her right leg- her Master had a love for symmetry and she knew that the bondage was as much about beauty as it was about restraint in his mind. Her mind was what she had fallen in love with and when she had found his fetish in the dark corners of it, she had embraced it and learned to love and fear it as she did him.
With both legs restrained, he paused to stand in front of her. His eyes locked with hers and he said nothing, but the intensity of the gaze was enough to make a small whimpering moan escape her throat before she looked away. Seth bent down, his lips brushing the smooth pale skin of her inner thigh by the hem of her skirt- he was always loving, even when he was about to do the unthinkable to her.
The red satin rope that coiled around her waist made only three passes to fasten her to the back of the chair and prevent her from sliding forward, a compromise between complete immobility and leaving her tender sides exposed. Satisfied with his handiwork, he walked to the corner of the room and picked up the five-foot staff that leaned there before returning to his captive slave girl.
The staff was simple and evil. Two metal rings at the center hooked over the posts of the chair’s back, leaving the remainder suspended parallel to the ground at shoulder level for Marie. Each end also displayed two eye-hooks, pointed away from the chair to prevent her from touching them, but positioned to allow her arms above the elbow and her wrists to be secured straight away from her body. It was a result of a lesson Seth had learned about his beloved fiancée early in the exploration of her body- with her arms tied over her head, her underarms were extremely ticklish but with them extended out to her sides, they became completely unbearable.
Marie closed her eyes and twisted her slender waist in an effort to relieve the anticipation and fear and lust that was building inside her as Seth carefully and methodically tied her arms and wrists to the crossbar. “Please…” She whispered, though what she was asking for was not even fully formed in her mind. The words trailed off and she took another deep breath.
Seth walked around in front of her again, picking up his Nikon camera from the counter and snapping a picture of her looking towards him, then another as she looked down and away. Her legs flexed in their bonds and he captured the strain in her calves and the way her toes curled, then the arch of her back as she tested the limits of her bondage and found it unforgiving. Satisfied, he set the camera down and returned to stand facing her in the chair.
“Are you ready?”
“No,” She confessed, writhing in place and her eyes silently pleading with him to be merciful.
“Good,” Seth replied as he reached out and swirled his fingers around her right kneecap, making her gasp as her beautiful leg spasmed.
Seth loved everything about tickling Marie. He loved the smoothness of her skin, the fact that every inch of her was sensitive, and the sounds she made. He loved the way she tried to give in to the sensations at first, then was forced to struggle in pure ticklish desperation, and finally the climactic moment when she begged and pleaded for mercy. He loved the way her body twisted and wriggled, the sudden panicked pitch of laughter when he found a good spot, and the way her most ticklish spot always changed and forced him to search for it. She was the perfect ticklee.
His other hand joined in, teasing her left knee in opposite swirling patterns to what his fingers were doing to her right one. Marie’s legs clenched as she tried to close them, but the ropes held her immobile and she arched her back as giggles wracked her body. As he walked his fingers up along the exposed insides of her thighs, he was glad that he started with one of her less ticklish spots- he loved making the torment build inside her to an unbearable ticklish crescendo. Watching her legs twitch and flex as he explored her skin and her skirt hem rise ever so slightly, he looked up at the pure beauty that was her unrestrained laughter. This was going to be fun.
Marie squealed as Seth’s hands grabbed her hips suddenly, bolting upright in the chair even as the ropes on your sides and legs held her down. “No…. no no no no no…”
Seth grinned as his fingers teased her helpless sides, walking back and forth across her flat bare tummy and making her twist desperately. With her arms bound to the crossbar there was nowhere for her to twist to, and her laughter redoubled as the senssations shot through her body. Caresses turned to squeezes and prods, driving her laughter into shrieks as her head threw back, sweat breaking out across her forehead as the tickling overloaded her.
“Not my ribs!” She managed to squeal out between bursts of laughter as Seth’s fingers finally found her lowest rib on both sides, her whole torso arching from side to side as she tried to escape his expertly probing fingers. “No- nooooo!”
Whatever else she might have wanted to say dissolved into laughter as he walked his fingers slowly up the outlines of her ribcage, climbing them like a ladder with his evil fingers. His tickling was methodical, leaving no place between them unexplored and giving her all the time in the world to anticipate what was to come. Even in the depths of her personal ticklish hell, she could feel his warm hands getting closer and closer to her underarms. She tugged against the bonds that held her arms away from her, more and more frantically as his fingertips walked past the edge of her bra-strap on either side, moving closer and closer to ticklish Armageddon.
“No- please- please don’t, I… oh my God…” She cried out as his fingers grazed her underarms, tugging violently at the crossbar that kept her from protecting them. Her legs tugged up and down in her bondage and her perfect ass bounced up and down in the chair as she screamed- and that was just one finger on each side.
There were days when that would have been enough for Seth, when Marie’s hysterical begging and total desperation would have sated his sadistic needs and he would have allowed her to negotiate for release. The fact that she belonged to him and would surrender to his every desire was irrelevant- he never tired of making her promise all manner of depraved acts in exchange for mercy. Unfortunately for Marie, the session she was enduring was punishment and not just pleasure, and so her torment continued.
All ten fingers slipped into her underarms and she squealed in pure ticklish agony, her entire body shaking and writhing as much as she could in her bonds. “Oh please- oh fuck- no!”
Marie had no idea how long It lasted, but as soon as the merciless assault on her underarms ended she wished it were continuing because there was only one place left on her hyperticklish body for him to torment- the entire purpose for the Stand. “No- I can’t take anymore- please, I’ll do anything! Please Master, stop!”
Seth just smiled at his slave girl and got down on his knees in front of her, his fingertips playing with her toes as she began to kick as much as she could. “Darling, a dirty martini is made with two olives.”
“Please- I’m sorry! I’ll-“
Her begging ended abruptly in a stream of laughter unmatched by anything else he had done to her as his fingertips slipped under the soles of her helpless feet, making her thrash like a woman possessed. She opened her mouth to beg, but only laughter flowed forth from her amazing lips as she through her head back again, unable to do anything to end her ticklish torment. Up and down Seth ran his fingers, his short fingernails tracing evil patterns on her unbelievably soft and sensitive soles. Spots appeared in her vision as her laughter overcame her ability to breathe and her head fell forward, no longer able to struggle. Only her legs still twitched and her shoulders still shook- involuntary reactions to the stimulus that all ten of his fingers flooded into her nerves. She was so lost in her ticklish nightmare that he had stopped tickling her for minutes before she realized that her torment was over.
Shining with sweat all over her skin, and with her thighs soaked with the wetness her punishment had caused in her, she looked up to see Seth sitting in a chair beside her.
“Thank you, Master…” She whispered, her eyes meeting his.
She would never tell him that she had only put one olive in his “welcome home from work” drink in the hopes that this would be the result.
************
“Put the chair on The Stand.”
Marie loved and hated that Seth made her participate in her own punishment. It was his way of getting inside her head before he even put his fingers on her, and she hated how well it worked. She picked up one of the chairs from the dining room table and carried it into the living room where he had put The Stand, trembling in anticipation but trying not to show it.
The Stand was a three foot cube with four holes drilled six inches into the top, lined up perfectly with the legs of their dining-room chairs. The result was a completely immobile chair that left her feet dangling in the air and her body at an easily reachable height. As she slid the chair into place on top of the stand Marie flashed back to the last time she had been forced into it, the helpless struggling and the inescapable ticklish torment that had made her thrash and squirm until her lung ached from laughter and her resistance was reduced to shaking and trembling in her bonds.
Seth watched her emplace the chair, his eyes running across her bare feet and up her long legs to the hips that had captivated his imagination for years. In her yellow and black pleated skirt and her black satin bra, she looked like an erotic vision fit for the silver screen but instead was walking around his living room. He grinned as he heard the chair settle into place- Marie had learned long ago that looking as sexy as possible and being obedient to instruction were her only defenses to shorten her torment in favor of amazing sex instead, and she was doing everything she could to have a short torment indeed.
“Sit down,” Seth commanded sternly, that indescribable thing laced in his voice that compelled her to do as she was told.
Marie stepped up onto the stand, then pirouetted to sit down on the chair. Without waiting to be told she sat as far back in the chair as she coul,d, parting her knees to straddle the front edge of the seat. Her eyes looked with Seth’s and the look he gave her back made her squirm in her seat as she tried to control her breathing.
Seth walked closer, his box of restraints under his arm. His eyes clung to the curve of her calves as he set the box on the edge of the stand and opened it, watching the silk scarves and rope expand from within like rising bread. His fingers wrapped around a black satin rope and the rope coiled around her left ankle and calf ten times before fastening to the chair’s crossbar, effectively immobilizing her leg. Marie listened to the click of his boots as he walked around the chair behind her and came to a stop by her other leg. Her pulse was already starting to quicken. She knew that there would be ten coils around her right leg- her Master had a love for symmetry and she knew that the bondage was as much about beauty as it was about restraint in his mind. Her mind was what she had fallen in love with and when she had found his fetish in the dark corners of it, she had embraced it and learned to love and fear it as she did him.
With both legs restrained, he paused to stand in front of her. His eyes locked with hers and he said nothing, but the intensity of the gaze was enough to make a small whimpering moan escape her throat before she looked away. Seth bent down, his lips brushing the smooth pale skin of her inner thigh by the hem of her skirt- he was always loving, even when he was about to do the unthinkable to her.
The red satin rope that coiled around her waist made only three passes to fasten her to the back of the chair and prevent her from sliding forward, a compromise between complete immobility and leaving her tender sides exposed. Satisfied with his handiwork, he walked to the corner of the room and picked up the five-foot staff that leaned there before returning to his captive slave girl.
The staff was simple and evil. Two metal rings at the center hooked over the posts of the chair’s back, leaving the remainder suspended parallel to the ground at shoulder level for Marie. Each end also displayed two eye-hooks, pointed away from the chair to prevent her from touching them, but positioned to allow her arms above the elbow and her wrists to be secured straight away from her body. It was a result of a lesson Seth had learned about his beloved fiancée early in the exploration of her body- with her arms tied over her head, her underarms were extremely ticklish but with them extended out to her sides, they became completely unbearable.
Marie closed her eyes and twisted her slender waist in an effort to relieve the anticipation and fear and lust that was building inside her as Seth carefully and methodically tied her arms and wrists to the crossbar. “Please…” She whispered, though what she was asking for was not even fully formed in her mind. The words trailed off and she took another deep breath.
Seth walked around in front of her again, picking up his Nikon camera from the counter and snapping a picture of her looking towards him, then another as she looked down and away. Her legs flexed in their bonds and he captured the strain in her calves and the way her toes curled, then the arch of her back as she tested the limits of her bondage and found it unforgiving. Satisfied, he set the camera down and returned to stand facing her in the chair.
“Are you ready?”
“No,” She confessed, writhing in place and her eyes silently pleading with him to be merciful.
“Good,” Seth replied as he reached out and swirled his fingers around her right kneecap, making her gasp as her beautiful leg spasmed.
Seth loved everything about tickling Marie. He loved the smoothness of her skin, the fact that every inch of her was sensitive, and the sounds she made. He loved the way she tried to give in to the sensations at first, then was forced to struggle in pure ticklish desperation, and finally the climactic moment when she begged and pleaded for mercy. He loved the way her body twisted and wriggled, the sudden panicked pitch of laughter when he found a good spot, and the way her most ticklish spot always changed and forced him to search for it. She was the perfect ticklee.
His other hand joined in, teasing her left knee in opposite swirling patterns to what his fingers were doing to her right one. Marie’s legs clenched as she tried to close them, but the ropes held her immobile and she arched her back as giggles wracked her body. As he walked his fingers up along the exposed insides of her thighs, he was glad that he started with one of her less ticklish spots- he loved making the torment build inside her to an unbearable ticklish crescendo. Watching her legs twitch and flex as he explored her skin and her skirt hem rise ever so slightly, he looked up at the pure beauty that was her unrestrained laughter. This was going to be fun.
Marie squealed as Seth’s hands grabbed her hips suddenly, bolting upright in the chair even as the ropes on your sides and legs held her down. “No…. no no no no no…”
Seth grinned as his fingers teased her helpless sides, walking back and forth across her flat bare tummy and making her twist desperately. With her arms bound to the crossbar there was nowhere for her to twist to, and her laughter redoubled as the senssations shot through her body. Caresses turned to squeezes and prods, driving her laughter into shrieks as her head threw back, sweat breaking out across her forehead as the tickling overloaded her.
“Not my ribs!” She managed to squeal out between bursts of laughter as Seth’s fingers finally found her lowest rib on both sides, her whole torso arching from side to side as she tried to escape his expertly probing fingers. “No- nooooo!”
Whatever else she might have wanted to say dissolved into laughter as he walked his fingers slowly up the outlines of her ribcage, climbing them like a ladder with his evil fingers. His tickling was methodical, leaving no place between them unexplored and giving her all the time in the world to anticipate what was to come. Even in the depths of her personal ticklish hell, she could feel his warm hands getting closer and closer to her underarms. She tugged against the bonds that held her arms away from her, more and more frantically as his fingertips walked past the edge of her bra-strap on either side, moving closer and closer to ticklish Armageddon.
“No- please- please don’t, I… oh my God…” She cried out as his fingers grazed her underarms, tugging violently at the crossbar that kept her from protecting them. Her legs tugged up and down in her bondage and her perfect ass bounced up and down in the chair as she screamed- and that was just one finger on each side.
There were days when that would have been enough for Seth, when Marie’s hysterical begging and total desperation would have sated his sadistic needs and he would have allowed her to negotiate for release. The fact that she belonged to him and would surrender to his every desire was irrelevant- he never tired of making her promise all manner of depraved acts in exchange for mercy. Unfortunately for Marie, the session she was enduring was punishment and not just pleasure, and so her torment continued.
All ten fingers slipped into her underarms and she squealed in pure ticklish agony, her entire body shaking and writhing as much as she could in her bonds. “Oh please- oh fuck- no!”
Marie had no idea how long It lasted, but as soon as the merciless assault on her underarms ended she wished it were continuing because there was only one place left on her hyperticklish body for him to torment- the entire purpose for the Stand. “No- I can’t take anymore- please, I’ll do anything! Please Master, stop!”
Seth just smiled at his slave girl and got down on his knees in front of her, his fingertips playing with her toes as she began to kick as much as she could. “Darling, a dirty martini is made with two olives.”
“Please- I’m sorry! I’ll-“
Her begging ended abruptly in a stream of laughter unmatched by anything else he had done to her as his fingertips slipped under the soles of her helpless feet, making her thrash like a woman possessed. She opened her mouth to beg, but only laughter flowed forth from her amazing lips as she through her head back again, unable to do anything to end her ticklish torment. Up and down Seth ran his fingers, his short fingernails tracing evil patterns on her unbelievably soft and sensitive soles. Spots appeared in her vision as her laughter overcame her ability to breathe and her head fell forward, no longer able to struggle. Only her legs still twitched and her shoulders still shook- involuntary reactions to the stimulus that all ten of his fingers flooded into her nerves. She was so lost in her ticklish nightmare that he had stopped tickling her for minutes before she realized that her torment was over.
Shining with sweat all over her skin, and with her thighs soaked with the wetness her punishment had caused in her, she looked up to see Seth sitting in a chair beside her.
“Thank you, Master…” She whispered, her eyes meeting his.
She would never tell him that she had only put one olive in his “welcome home from work” drink in the hopes that this would be the result.
