This is a made up story (although with inspiration from real life characters) that I posted on Fetlife. I got good response, so I thought you might like it too This is part 1-3. When I've written more I will post part 4, and possibly a part 5.
Enjoy!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 1
I’m going to tell you a story. It might seem strange, unlikely to happen and made up by a foolish young woman with way too much spare time. But I swear that all of it was true. I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
It all started on a normal Wednesday in her class. I won’t tell you her real name, because I don’t want her to get fired, so I’m just going to refer to her as S. S teached the movie class in my school, my favorite class. I had always been a good student. In fact, I was one of the best students in the school, with top grades, maximum attendance and every teacher’s favorite. Including S.
That’s why I was shocked when she asked me to stay one day after class to discuss my grades. Apparently, my last essay on the inspiration from Shakespeare in West Side Story had been horrible, and she was pretty much as shocked as I was. But, kind as she was, she wanted to give me one more chance before the midterm tests. She offered me a private study session, where she would help me correct the errors. Apparently, we couldn’t do it in school since her new teaching schedule gave her no time during the day to meet me, and the school closes at 5.30, after her last class. So, she offered me to come to her house the day after, a Thursday, at 6 pm.
I know, I know, I should have given it more thought. I should not have said yes without thinking about it. I knew basically nothing about her. I would be screwed if she wasn’t the nice girl she seemed to be. But I was just relieved that she offered me the help, since I had no interest to drag my average down by failing the midterm tests. And to be quite honest, I was curious to see where she lived, since she was my favorite teacher and seemed to be a really nice person.
Well, I swore I would be honest. I didn’t just like her as a teacher and as a person. I liked her in another way too. A way that made me blush when I rounded a corner in the school corridor and accidentally bumped into her. A way that made me jealous to death of her English class, who got to meet her every day. A way that made me wonder how her long brown hair would feel against my arms in a hug and how her long fingers would feel against my bare skin. I’d never had a teacher crush before. I’d never even had a crush on a woman before. As far as I knew, I was only into guys. But I guess life’s all about surprises. And after all, she was only twenty seven, seven years older than me.
So, I took a longer time preparing on Thursday than I normally would. I ended my classes earlier than she stopped teaching, so I got home at 4 pm. It was a hot day, in the end of the Californian summer, so I took a shower and changed into a pair of jeans shorts and a Klein blue tank top. I shaved my legs, my underarms and that spot on me that I could not explain why I shaved for a school meeting like that, but I guess I just wanted to feel as clean and good looking as possible, in a situation that scared me to death. Or, it could have been an unconscious act. A way for my unconscious mind to tell me what I was really hoping would happen that evening. I guess I’ll never know.
At 5.35, I started to walk towards her house. She had given me the address the day before, it was a twenty minute walk and I really didn’t wanted to be late. I approached her door just in time, and rang the bell. I didn’t even have to wait for 30 seconds until she opened. She greeted me with a warm hug, and let me in through the door and locked it. I was not surprised by the style of her house design. It looked a bit like her style in clothes. A bit vintage, lots of autumn colors and really cozy and fashionable. It had a small fireplace in the middle of the living room, and a couch opposite of it. That’s where we sat down.
I took out the essay, a note book and pen from my bag, and was just on my way to say something when she interrupted me.
- You can put those back in the bag.
I looked confusingly at her, but decided to do as she said. Maybe she just wanted to talk about it or something. As I bent forward towards my bag to put the books back down, I suddenly felt something that was the least thing in the world I expected to feel at that moment. I felt a finger poking me in the sides. As I squeaked and turned to find the source of it, the hand was gone. I looked up and saw a tiny grin on her face. Before I had the time to say something, she spoke again.
- You see, I didn’t invite you here tonight to correct the essay. There was nothing to correct. It’s perfect, as usual. Now, what I really wanted to correct, was a certain behavior of yours.
Stunned, I stuttered out:
- Wha…whatt dddo you m…mean?
I had never stuttered in my entire life before.
- Well, she smiled. I’ve watched and studied your behavior in school, and during my classes. You always seem to crave control. Control over your school grades, control over your personal belongings, control over your body and your mind. Your friends help you to loosen up a bit, but you don’t share your inner thoughts with them enough for them to fully help you.
I bit my lip, and lowered my eyes. I had no idea that she had been watching me. Plus, I did find her words embarrassingly accurate. I didn’t understood how she could see that, just from watching me. I felt insecure, and vulnerable. I had no idea how this evening would end.
- Fortunately, she continued, I have tools for this. I know how to make people lose control, I know the process they go through in their mind while doing so. I know, because it happened to me when I was about your age, but now I’ve realized that I prefer to use that knowledge as a way to control other people and by that, help them to lose their need of control.
- What do you mean?, I asked, although I already had a suspicion on where this would lead us.
You see, I couldn’t help but notice how she took even that tiny chance to poke my sides before, and as a matter of fact, I wasn’t as unfamiliar with the topic as she thought I was. I was, oppositely, quite extremely familiar with it.
- I will show you. Put your left foot in my knee.
I decided to play along. I wanted to see where this would lead.
- What, you want to give me a foot massage? I don’t really see how that could make me lose control?
I smiled, removed my flip flop and did as she told me to.
- Well…
She put a firm grip with her right hand on my ankle.
- It all depends...
She put her left hand fingers about an inch away from the spot right beneath my toes.
- On how ticklish you are.
I could hear the excitement in her voice.
- And even more fortunately, I happen to know how insanely ticklish you are. It’s impossible not to, watching you in school. I had to bite my lip not to laugh out loud when Brianna took away that hair from your shoulder and you screamed loud enough for the entire floor to hear you. And during the Friday lecture, when that French guy behind you was fixing his bag and accidentally touched your back and you jumped as though if he had electricity in his hands.
- I..didn’t knew y...
I couldn’t even finish the sentence. Playing along seemed to be more difficult than I thought it would. I saw once again that small evil grin on her face, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before she was going to strike.
And so she did. She hit the spot right beneath my toes, with four fingers on her left hand. All except for the pinkie. I let out a squeak, and started to giggle. She laughed triumphantly, and continued to explore my left foot. It didn’t take long before I lay down on the couch, laughing and squirming, trying to push away her hands with my right foot.
- Okaaaay okaaay, I get you. You’ve made your pohohohoint. I’m extremely ticklish, and thaaaat makes me lose controhohol. Are we done noohohow?
- Done?, she smirked. We haven’t even started yet.
She stopped tickling me.
- Want a rest already? Let me give you an option. If you go downstairs, open the first door to the left, you will find quite an interesting room. Wait there for me until I arrive, and don’t do anything or touch anything until I say so. Okay?
I know, you all probably think I was way out of my mind. But to tell you the truth? I was amazed. I was exploring from curiosity. I thought this sounded way too close to my secret daydreams not to accept. So: I did.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 2
When I entered the room, I realized this was far beyond my imagination. I must confess, that of all the tickling stories I’d already read on the web about a teacher and a student, most of them took place in the school. Some of them took place in the teacher’s home. But none of them, I repeat; none of them, took place in a home like this.
You see, there was a dungeon in that basement! A fully equipped dungeon! On the opposite side of the door, towards the wall, stood a pair of wooden stocks. They had an adjustable hole for the feet, rope securement for the toes that made me shudder just from looking, and next to them stood a bench, which I assumed was used to hold rest of the victim down when the stocks were used. To the right from the bench, there was one of these planks on the wall that made it possible to tie the victim in a vertical position.
To the left from the bench there was a four posted bed. Well yeah of course, you think. A four posted bed, how more classical can this be? At least I can say I thought the same when I got my first glance on it. When I looked again, I realized though that this was not the typical black and bad looking four posted bed you would imagine seeing if this was a made up story. It wasn’t either one of those scary “trying to look sexy” four posted beds you would see in a “motel” in Amsterdam. Basically, this was not the bed you expected to see in a dungeon like this. This was simply an all-white, cute looking bed, with white sheets and flower patterns on each and every one of the many pillows. Even the bondage set, which was of course already tied to the bed posters, was white. For some reason, this made me even more worried than if there had been a typical dungeon bed in there. One thing I had already learned that evening was that this woman, whoever she really was, seemed to drag my mind in its totally opposite direction, every time I think I had figured her, or anything at all, out.
That’s when she entered the room and walked towards me, with a plastic bag filled with something I couldn’t see in her hand. Just the way she walked in there made me shocked. S is a relatively shy teacher. She is not really this typical authority figure. She does get authority in the classroom, but not through her attitude; more through her kindness and understanding. So the secure, calm and dominant energy she sent out surprised me.
Anyway, she had changed from the yellow sweater and grey pants she wore in school, into a pair of black tight pants and a Klein blue t-shirt, not very unlikely in the color from the top I wore myself. I had no idea why she did that, but I had no time pondering it any more, since as soon as she was close enough, she dropped the plastic bag on the floor and started tickling my sides with her long fingernails.
- How do you like the dungeon?
- I…bwahaha…I…ihh..STOP IT!
- You still have a lot to learn.
She changed her focus to my armpits, so I playfully pressed my arms as tight as I could towards my sides and started backing. Problem was, as I unaware of the trouble I’d gotten myself into by doing that, reached the bed, I fell down on it. My cheeks started to turn red. And the moment I tried to plan what to do next, she grabbed my wrist, dragged me higher up on the bed and started to tie it down with the bondage set. I was in shock. Of course I suspected this would happen, but her straightforwardness scared me, although not as much as her ability to count my next move before I’d even really decided it myself.
- I…
- Want me to put a gag on you already?
Her words made me blush again.
- I just…wanted to know if this is a good…idea…I mean, after all, I’m…your student…you could get fir…
She had put a hand over my mouth. She was already done with both of my wrists, and now she looked down on me with an expression of care, on the edge of pity.
- Trust me, I know what I’m doing. Now, spread your legs.
- Wha…
Her look lowered my eyes, and made me obey. She walked down to the edge of the bed, and started tying my left foot down, then my right. Then she walked over to the right side of the bed, looking down at me with an expression of curiosity mixed with evilness.
- So, I couldn’t help but notice. Your protests were all about practical things, nothing personal. You haven’t asked me a single question about the dungeon, and you seemed to know exactly what was coming when I grabbed your wrist. I assumed you were a newbie, but apparently I was wrong?
I thought I would die from embarrassment. I wish she could only start tickling me, or just do anything at all. Not just stand there, asking questions I DID NOT wanted to answer.
Her smile turned into a teasing one.
- You see, I’ve not been watching you all these months for just a behavioral psychology reason. For that, I could have picked anyone in the school. Lots of people have issues with needs of control, you’re not alone. I’ve watched you, because doing so gives me a tingly feeling inside. Because watching you makes me want to touch you. Because seeing you laugh at intern jokes with your friends makes me wish I was the reason you laughed. Because bumping into you in the school corridor making you blush makes me wish I made you blush in an entirely different environment. And that cute little wiggle of your toes you do when you’re extremely happy makes me wish I was the one causing it. And tonight, all of these wishes will come true.
If it didn’t already, I was now completely sure my face looked like a tomato. I wish I had a blindfold to at least cover my eyes. My mind was panicking. This was WAAAY too good to be true. She must be joking. What a fool I would make of myself if I admitted something now, without being entirely sure she was not joking. I decided it was best not to say anything foolish. So I just bit my lip, and looked back into her eyes.
She laughed.
- Well, don’t worry. I will make you talk once this evening is over. We have lots of time.
Ironically, that’s when she acted against her own words, for her hands flew down on my sides again right after she finished that sentence. Of course, I was not prepared for this. I shrieked out loudly and then started to laugh and struggle against the bondage. She was a horribly good tickler with great finger movements, and her long fingernails made it four times worse. I don’t know how, but it felt as if she read my mind. I guess all those psychology classes she took before deciding to become a teacher paid off, because as soon as I was thinking “not that spot, not that spot”, her hands seemed to automatically find their way to exactly that spot I was thinking about. She moved on to my armpits, and now I couldn’t help but scream;
- Seheheheriously, this is TOOO much! What do you WAHAHAHAHAHANT?!?
- What I want?
She leaned forward, slowed down the tickling into a low speed, and whispered into my ears.
- I want to destroy you completely. I want to torture you into insanity, see the hope leave your eyes and feel your hopelessness and rejection when your body takes over your mind. I want to make you scream, laugh, shriek, giggle and moan. I want to make your nipples visible through that top of yours, and I want to make your clitoris soaked. In other words, I want exactly the same as you do.
- I…I do not want that. I didn’t…
My voice broke, as I felt how my lower parts started to get moistly. I was not prepared for this answer, and I realized that answer alone could have made me moan, if I hadn’t been so shocked by it.
- Aww, you sweet little liar, she smirked. Look at your top already.
I looked down. All the struggling I’d done had removed my bra from its original position, and left my left nipple visible under the cover of the top. And it was not just visible. It was REALLY visible, if you know what I mean.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 3
- I…I’m just cold!
Nice trial of a save, huh? Well, not really. But at least I made her laugh. I could tell she had to struggle to manage herself, and she was still giggling when she walked back to the plastic bag she had dropped on the floor before.
- You know what I do with liars? I don’t believe in punishment. That doesn’t motivate them enough. Now what I like to do is I like to make them tell the truth. That’s a lot more fun anyway.
She took out something from the bag, hid it behind her back and turned towards me again. This time, she sat down beside my feet and took a firm grip on one of my ankles, to make sure I couldn’t move a single inch.
-I couldn’t help but notice how adorably ticklish these little cuties are. For that spot right beneath your toes, I have a special tool. I know it works extra well as a tool when you want to break someone, and make them surrender. This is what I’m going to do with you.
There was no question in her voice. No doubt. It was simply an establishment she was making; she was telling me a fact. That’s what made me smile expectantly before she even touched me. But when I felt the hairbrush on my feet, I started to get really scared. I had no idea she knew about the torment that tool could make.
- Please, not the hairbrush!
- 3…
- Seriously, that’s not okay!
- 2…
- I beg you, anything else!
- 1…
- No!!! No!!! No!!! IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Please please please, stop!
- Cootchie coo…
- I…HATE…YOOOOUUUUHUHUHU!
- Oh no, you don’t. You’re a liar, and we’re going to make you regret that.
- SERIOOOOOUSLY, STOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!
- Tickle tickle tickle.
- IIIIIIIIIIIIIHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?!?
- Please what?
- Please STOOOOOOOOOOOOp!
- I’m afraid I can’t do that.
She changed to my next foot, took a firm grip on the ankle, and started again.
- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! IIIIIIIIHH! HIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI! Please, please, please, please!
- Just continue like that. Makes it even more fun.
I tried to bite my lip, so that I wouldn’t show my reactions, but all it did was making me look even more pathetical when I about ten seconds after screamed;
- YOU have...hihihih…NO idea HOW….hihihihihi…TORMENTING this ihihihihihis!!!!!
- Oh trust me, I know.
- THEN how do…hihihih….how do you have the HEART to…hihihihi…put me through this?!?
- Because I love it. I love to torture you like this, hearing your screams, seeing the expression on your face. It makes me turned on like nothing else.
- I’ll do anythiIIIIIIIIIIING, just stooooooop!
- Sure you’ll do anything?
- Yeeeeeeees!!!
- Okay.
She stopped the tickling, walked so she stood next to my side and looked down on me with a mischievous smile. I could not help but wonder what her next plans were, considering how tormenting her last plans had been to me.
- I want you to lie as still as possible right now, no matter what I do, okay? If you protest or if you move too much, I will continue to torture your feet. Is that understood?
I nodded, and lowered my eyes. I really was prepared to do anything to not have to stand the hairbrush torture again. To my surprise, she started to untie my wrists. I did not understood a single thing, but I had promised not to protest, and I assumed asking would equal protesting, so I just kept my mouth shut and my eyes lowered.
- Starting to learn, huh?
She removed the last bondage from my arms, and then started to drag my top up; exposing my belly, then my bra and that left nipple, my collarbones and then the top was off. She continued to remove my bra straps from my shoulders, turned my bra around my waist to untie it, ignored my questioned look, and took it off.
- Remember, you’re still not allowed to move. You’re allowed to protest as much as you want, but don’t move more than tiny jerks, or else I will go back to the feet.
I nodded, still with my eyes lowered. I could not look her in the eyes. I was too confused by the whole situation. By how much I’d hoped before that something like this would happen. By how turned on it made me. And by how she seemed so completely cool with the situation, while I was everything else than cool.
Then, she started tickling my sides again with both of her hands. I bit my lip and try to put all my focus into not moving. At first, it went well. I started to giggle, but she hadn’t refused me to make sounds, so all I had to focus on was not to move. I really didn’t wanted the hairbrush tickling again, and that was basically all that kept me still.
- You’re doing pretty well, huh? Let’s see how you can handle this…
She started digging into my ribs with all her long fingernails. It took me all my willpower not to throw my arms as a protection.
- THIS ISN’T FAIR!, I screamed, between all the squeaks and giggles. YOU’RE EVIL!
- Thank you!
- PLEASE, LET ME MOVE! PLEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!
- Nope.
- HOW COME YOU’RE ACTING SO NICE IN SCHOOHOHOHOHOL, WHEN YOU’RE THE TOHOTAL OPPOSITE NOHOHOHOHOW?
- You’re not very clever while in pain, are you?, she laughed. How do you think I could keep my job if I openly tickle tortured students?
She changed into squeezing my thighs, moving slowly up towards my hips and once again, I had to use all my willpower to remain still. After screaming hysterically for a while, I managed to utter a few words;
- Plehehease, I beg you. Please let me move.
I was already on the edge of what I believed was moving too much and I was absolutely sure she was going in for the kill, but hadn’t I learned anything? She was all about surprises. All of a sudden, she stopped the tickling, and started to tie my wrists back to the bedposts.
- What are you doing?, I whispered, while trying to catch my breath.
- What does it look like I’m doing?
- Well, I…didn’t..move…PLEASE don’t…
- You’re absolutely right.
- So why d…
- Ssssh!
Once again, she covered my words with her hand.
- You see, there are different types of tormenting. You went through the tickling aspect surprisingly well considering how ticklish you are, which makes me assume you must really enjoy it. Am I right?
I could hear in her voice how much SHE was enjoying herself. And after all this, I felt like I couldn’t deny it any more. I nodded.
- Good girl. You’re finally giving in, huh?
She sat down on top of my hips, and started to softly and slowly tickle my neck. It almost felt even worse than if she had just used the hairbrush again. This was another type of torture. A more slow, sensual one, causing silent giggles.
- In what way did you say you enjoyed this again?
I bit my lip, and couldn’t look her in the eyes. I couldn’t stop giggling either. She smiled, and slowly started to move her fingers down towards my underarms, my armpits, my belly, my sides, and then up again. When her fingers hit a specific point on my sides, a spot that tickled extra bad, I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I moaned.
Enjoy!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 1
I’m going to tell you a story. It might seem strange, unlikely to happen and made up by a foolish young woman with way too much spare time. But I swear that all of it was true. I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
It all started on a normal Wednesday in her class. I won’t tell you her real name, because I don’t want her to get fired, so I’m just going to refer to her as S. S teached the movie class in my school, my favorite class. I had always been a good student. In fact, I was one of the best students in the school, with top grades, maximum attendance and every teacher’s favorite. Including S.
That’s why I was shocked when she asked me to stay one day after class to discuss my grades. Apparently, my last essay on the inspiration from Shakespeare in West Side Story had been horrible, and she was pretty much as shocked as I was. But, kind as she was, she wanted to give me one more chance before the midterm tests. She offered me a private study session, where she would help me correct the errors. Apparently, we couldn’t do it in school since her new teaching schedule gave her no time during the day to meet me, and the school closes at 5.30, after her last class. So, she offered me to come to her house the day after, a Thursday, at 6 pm.
I know, I know, I should have given it more thought. I should not have said yes without thinking about it. I knew basically nothing about her. I would be screwed if she wasn’t the nice girl she seemed to be. But I was just relieved that she offered me the help, since I had no interest to drag my average down by failing the midterm tests. And to be quite honest, I was curious to see where she lived, since she was my favorite teacher and seemed to be a really nice person.
Well, I swore I would be honest. I didn’t just like her as a teacher and as a person. I liked her in another way too. A way that made me blush when I rounded a corner in the school corridor and accidentally bumped into her. A way that made me jealous to death of her English class, who got to meet her every day. A way that made me wonder how her long brown hair would feel against my arms in a hug and how her long fingers would feel against my bare skin. I’d never had a teacher crush before. I’d never even had a crush on a woman before. As far as I knew, I was only into guys. But I guess life’s all about surprises. And after all, she was only twenty seven, seven years older than me.
So, I took a longer time preparing on Thursday than I normally would. I ended my classes earlier than she stopped teaching, so I got home at 4 pm. It was a hot day, in the end of the Californian summer, so I took a shower and changed into a pair of jeans shorts and a Klein blue tank top. I shaved my legs, my underarms and that spot on me that I could not explain why I shaved for a school meeting like that, but I guess I just wanted to feel as clean and good looking as possible, in a situation that scared me to death. Or, it could have been an unconscious act. A way for my unconscious mind to tell me what I was really hoping would happen that evening. I guess I’ll never know.
At 5.35, I started to walk towards her house. She had given me the address the day before, it was a twenty minute walk and I really didn’t wanted to be late. I approached her door just in time, and rang the bell. I didn’t even have to wait for 30 seconds until she opened. She greeted me with a warm hug, and let me in through the door and locked it. I was not surprised by the style of her house design. It looked a bit like her style in clothes. A bit vintage, lots of autumn colors and really cozy and fashionable. It had a small fireplace in the middle of the living room, and a couch opposite of it. That’s where we sat down.
I took out the essay, a note book and pen from my bag, and was just on my way to say something when she interrupted me.
- You can put those back in the bag.
I looked confusingly at her, but decided to do as she said. Maybe she just wanted to talk about it or something. As I bent forward towards my bag to put the books back down, I suddenly felt something that was the least thing in the world I expected to feel at that moment. I felt a finger poking me in the sides. As I squeaked and turned to find the source of it, the hand was gone. I looked up and saw a tiny grin on her face. Before I had the time to say something, she spoke again.
- You see, I didn’t invite you here tonight to correct the essay. There was nothing to correct. It’s perfect, as usual. Now, what I really wanted to correct, was a certain behavior of yours.
Stunned, I stuttered out:
- Wha…whatt dddo you m…mean?
I had never stuttered in my entire life before.
- Well, she smiled. I’ve watched and studied your behavior in school, and during my classes. You always seem to crave control. Control over your school grades, control over your personal belongings, control over your body and your mind. Your friends help you to loosen up a bit, but you don’t share your inner thoughts with them enough for them to fully help you.
I bit my lip, and lowered my eyes. I had no idea that she had been watching me. Plus, I did find her words embarrassingly accurate. I didn’t understood how she could see that, just from watching me. I felt insecure, and vulnerable. I had no idea how this evening would end.
- Fortunately, she continued, I have tools for this. I know how to make people lose control, I know the process they go through in their mind while doing so. I know, because it happened to me when I was about your age, but now I’ve realized that I prefer to use that knowledge as a way to control other people and by that, help them to lose their need of control.
- What do you mean?, I asked, although I already had a suspicion on where this would lead us.
You see, I couldn’t help but notice how she took even that tiny chance to poke my sides before, and as a matter of fact, I wasn’t as unfamiliar with the topic as she thought I was. I was, oppositely, quite extremely familiar with it.
- I will show you. Put your left foot in my knee.
I decided to play along. I wanted to see where this would lead.
- What, you want to give me a foot massage? I don’t really see how that could make me lose control?
I smiled, removed my flip flop and did as she told me to.
- Well…
She put a firm grip with her right hand on my ankle.
- It all depends...
She put her left hand fingers about an inch away from the spot right beneath my toes.
- On how ticklish you are.
I could hear the excitement in her voice.
- And even more fortunately, I happen to know how insanely ticklish you are. It’s impossible not to, watching you in school. I had to bite my lip not to laugh out loud when Brianna took away that hair from your shoulder and you screamed loud enough for the entire floor to hear you. And during the Friday lecture, when that French guy behind you was fixing his bag and accidentally touched your back and you jumped as though if he had electricity in his hands.
- I..didn’t knew y...
I couldn’t even finish the sentence. Playing along seemed to be more difficult than I thought it would. I saw once again that small evil grin on her face, and I knew it was only a matter of seconds before she was going to strike.
And so she did. She hit the spot right beneath my toes, with four fingers on her left hand. All except for the pinkie. I let out a squeak, and started to giggle. She laughed triumphantly, and continued to explore my left foot. It didn’t take long before I lay down on the couch, laughing and squirming, trying to push away her hands with my right foot.
- Okaaaay okaaay, I get you. You’ve made your pohohohoint. I’m extremely ticklish, and thaaaat makes me lose controhohol. Are we done noohohow?
- Done?, she smirked. We haven’t even started yet.
She stopped tickling me.
- Want a rest already? Let me give you an option. If you go downstairs, open the first door to the left, you will find quite an interesting room. Wait there for me until I arrive, and don’t do anything or touch anything until I say so. Okay?
I know, you all probably think I was way out of my mind. But to tell you the truth? I was amazed. I was exploring from curiosity. I thought this sounded way too close to my secret daydreams not to accept. So: I did.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 2
When I entered the room, I realized this was far beyond my imagination. I must confess, that of all the tickling stories I’d already read on the web about a teacher and a student, most of them took place in the school. Some of them took place in the teacher’s home. But none of them, I repeat; none of them, took place in a home like this.
You see, there was a dungeon in that basement! A fully equipped dungeon! On the opposite side of the door, towards the wall, stood a pair of wooden stocks. They had an adjustable hole for the feet, rope securement for the toes that made me shudder just from looking, and next to them stood a bench, which I assumed was used to hold rest of the victim down when the stocks were used. To the right from the bench, there was one of these planks on the wall that made it possible to tie the victim in a vertical position.
To the left from the bench there was a four posted bed. Well yeah of course, you think. A four posted bed, how more classical can this be? At least I can say I thought the same when I got my first glance on it. When I looked again, I realized though that this was not the typical black and bad looking four posted bed you would imagine seeing if this was a made up story. It wasn’t either one of those scary “trying to look sexy” four posted beds you would see in a “motel” in Amsterdam. Basically, this was not the bed you expected to see in a dungeon like this. This was simply an all-white, cute looking bed, with white sheets and flower patterns on each and every one of the many pillows. Even the bondage set, which was of course already tied to the bed posters, was white. For some reason, this made me even more worried than if there had been a typical dungeon bed in there. One thing I had already learned that evening was that this woman, whoever she really was, seemed to drag my mind in its totally opposite direction, every time I think I had figured her, or anything at all, out.
That’s when she entered the room and walked towards me, with a plastic bag filled with something I couldn’t see in her hand. Just the way she walked in there made me shocked. S is a relatively shy teacher. She is not really this typical authority figure. She does get authority in the classroom, but not through her attitude; more through her kindness and understanding. So the secure, calm and dominant energy she sent out surprised me.
Anyway, she had changed from the yellow sweater and grey pants she wore in school, into a pair of black tight pants and a Klein blue t-shirt, not very unlikely in the color from the top I wore myself. I had no idea why she did that, but I had no time pondering it any more, since as soon as she was close enough, she dropped the plastic bag on the floor and started tickling my sides with her long fingernails.
- How do you like the dungeon?
- I…bwahaha…I…ihh..STOP IT!
- You still have a lot to learn.
She changed her focus to my armpits, so I playfully pressed my arms as tight as I could towards my sides and started backing. Problem was, as I unaware of the trouble I’d gotten myself into by doing that, reached the bed, I fell down on it. My cheeks started to turn red. And the moment I tried to plan what to do next, she grabbed my wrist, dragged me higher up on the bed and started to tie it down with the bondage set. I was in shock. Of course I suspected this would happen, but her straightforwardness scared me, although not as much as her ability to count my next move before I’d even really decided it myself.
- I…
- Want me to put a gag on you already?
Her words made me blush again.
- I just…wanted to know if this is a good…idea…I mean, after all, I’m…your student…you could get fir…
She had put a hand over my mouth. She was already done with both of my wrists, and now she looked down on me with an expression of care, on the edge of pity.
- Trust me, I know what I’m doing. Now, spread your legs.
- Wha…
Her look lowered my eyes, and made me obey. She walked down to the edge of the bed, and started tying my left foot down, then my right. Then she walked over to the right side of the bed, looking down at me with an expression of curiosity mixed with evilness.
- So, I couldn’t help but notice. Your protests were all about practical things, nothing personal. You haven’t asked me a single question about the dungeon, and you seemed to know exactly what was coming when I grabbed your wrist. I assumed you were a newbie, but apparently I was wrong?
I thought I would die from embarrassment. I wish she could only start tickling me, or just do anything at all. Not just stand there, asking questions I DID NOT wanted to answer.
Her smile turned into a teasing one.
- You see, I’ve not been watching you all these months for just a behavioral psychology reason. For that, I could have picked anyone in the school. Lots of people have issues with needs of control, you’re not alone. I’ve watched you, because doing so gives me a tingly feeling inside. Because watching you makes me want to touch you. Because seeing you laugh at intern jokes with your friends makes me wish I was the reason you laughed. Because bumping into you in the school corridor making you blush makes me wish I made you blush in an entirely different environment. And that cute little wiggle of your toes you do when you’re extremely happy makes me wish I was the one causing it. And tonight, all of these wishes will come true.
If it didn’t already, I was now completely sure my face looked like a tomato. I wish I had a blindfold to at least cover my eyes. My mind was panicking. This was WAAAY too good to be true. She must be joking. What a fool I would make of myself if I admitted something now, without being entirely sure she was not joking. I decided it was best not to say anything foolish. So I just bit my lip, and looked back into her eyes.
She laughed.
- Well, don’t worry. I will make you talk once this evening is over. We have lots of time.
Ironically, that’s when she acted against her own words, for her hands flew down on my sides again right after she finished that sentence. Of course, I was not prepared for this. I shrieked out loudly and then started to laugh and struggle against the bondage. She was a horribly good tickler with great finger movements, and her long fingernails made it four times worse. I don’t know how, but it felt as if she read my mind. I guess all those psychology classes she took before deciding to become a teacher paid off, because as soon as I was thinking “not that spot, not that spot”, her hands seemed to automatically find their way to exactly that spot I was thinking about. She moved on to my armpits, and now I couldn’t help but scream;
- Seheheheriously, this is TOOO much! What do you WAHAHAHAHAHANT?!?
- What I want?
She leaned forward, slowed down the tickling into a low speed, and whispered into my ears.
- I want to destroy you completely. I want to torture you into insanity, see the hope leave your eyes and feel your hopelessness and rejection when your body takes over your mind. I want to make you scream, laugh, shriek, giggle and moan. I want to make your nipples visible through that top of yours, and I want to make your clitoris soaked. In other words, I want exactly the same as you do.
- I…I do not want that. I didn’t…
My voice broke, as I felt how my lower parts started to get moistly. I was not prepared for this answer, and I realized that answer alone could have made me moan, if I hadn’t been so shocked by it.
- Aww, you sweet little liar, she smirked. Look at your top already.
I looked down. All the struggling I’d done had removed my bra from its original position, and left my left nipple visible under the cover of the top. And it was not just visible. It was REALLY visible, if you know what I mean.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Part 3
- I…I’m just cold!
Nice trial of a save, huh? Well, not really. But at least I made her laugh. I could tell she had to struggle to manage herself, and she was still giggling when she walked back to the plastic bag she had dropped on the floor before.
- You know what I do with liars? I don’t believe in punishment. That doesn’t motivate them enough. Now what I like to do is I like to make them tell the truth. That’s a lot more fun anyway.
She took out something from the bag, hid it behind her back and turned towards me again. This time, she sat down beside my feet and took a firm grip on one of my ankles, to make sure I couldn’t move a single inch.
-I couldn’t help but notice how adorably ticklish these little cuties are. For that spot right beneath your toes, I have a special tool. I know it works extra well as a tool when you want to break someone, and make them surrender. This is what I’m going to do with you.
There was no question in her voice. No doubt. It was simply an establishment she was making; she was telling me a fact. That’s what made me smile expectantly before she even touched me. But when I felt the hairbrush on my feet, I started to get really scared. I had no idea she knew about the torment that tool could make.
- Please, not the hairbrush!
- 3…
- Seriously, that’s not okay!
- 2…
- I beg you, anything else!
- 1…
- No!!! No!!! No!!! IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Please please please, stop!
- Cootchie coo…
- I…HATE…YOOOOUUUUHUHUHU!
- Oh no, you don’t. You’re a liar, and we’re going to make you regret that.
- SERIOOOOOUSLY, STOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!
- Tickle tickle tickle.
- IIIIIIIIIIIIIHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?!?
- Please what?
- Please STOOOOOOOOOOOOp!
- I’m afraid I can’t do that.
She changed to my next foot, took a firm grip on the ankle, and started again.
- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! IIIIIIIIHH! HIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHIHI! Please, please, please, please!
- Just continue like that. Makes it even more fun.
I tried to bite my lip, so that I wouldn’t show my reactions, but all it did was making me look even more pathetical when I about ten seconds after screamed;
- YOU have...hihihih…NO idea HOW….hihihihihi…TORMENTING this ihihihihihis!!!!!
- Oh trust me, I know.
- THEN how do…hihihih….how do you have the HEART to…hihihihi…put me through this?!?
- Because I love it. I love to torture you like this, hearing your screams, seeing the expression on your face. It makes me turned on like nothing else.
- I’ll do anythiIIIIIIIIIIING, just stooooooop!
- Sure you’ll do anything?
- Yeeeeeeees!!!
- Okay.
She stopped the tickling, walked so she stood next to my side and looked down on me with a mischievous smile. I could not help but wonder what her next plans were, considering how tormenting her last plans had been to me.
- I want you to lie as still as possible right now, no matter what I do, okay? If you protest or if you move too much, I will continue to torture your feet. Is that understood?
I nodded, and lowered my eyes. I really was prepared to do anything to not have to stand the hairbrush torture again. To my surprise, she started to untie my wrists. I did not understood a single thing, but I had promised not to protest, and I assumed asking would equal protesting, so I just kept my mouth shut and my eyes lowered.
- Starting to learn, huh?
She removed the last bondage from my arms, and then started to drag my top up; exposing my belly, then my bra and that left nipple, my collarbones and then the top was off. She continued to remove my bra straps from my shoulders, turned my bra around my waist to untie it, ignored my questioned look, and took it off.
- Remember, you’re still not allowed to move. You’re allowed to protest as much as you want, but don’t move more than tiny jerks, or else I will go back to the feet.
I nodded, still with my eyes lowered. I could not look her in the eyes. I was too confused by the whole situation. By how much I’d hoped before that something like this would happen. By how turned on it made me. And by how she seemed so completely cool with the situation, while I was everything else than cool.
Then, she started tickling my sides again with both of her hands. I bit my lip and try to put all my focus into not moving. At first, it went well. I started to giggle, but she hadn’t refused me to make sounds, so all I had to focus on was not to move. I really didn’t wanted the hairbrush tickling again, and that was basically all that kept me still.
- You’re doing pretty well, huh? Let’s see how you can handle this…
She started digging into my ribs with all her long fingernails. It took me all my willpower not to throw my arms as a protection.
- THIS ISN’T FAIR!, I screamed, between all the squeaks and giggles. YOU’RE EVIL!
- Thank you!
- PLEASE, LET ME MOVE! PLEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!
- Nope.
- HOW COME YOU’RE ACTING SO NICE IN SCHOOHOHOHOHOL, WHEN YOU’RE THE TOHOTAL OPPOSITE NOHOHOHOHOW?
- You’re not very clever while in pain, are you?, she laughed. How do you think I could keep my job if I openly tickle tortured students?
She changed into squeezing my thighs, moving slowly up towards my hips and once again, I had to use all my willpower to remain still. After screaming hysterically for a while, I managed to utter a few words;
- Plehehease, I beg you. Please let me move.
I was already on the edge of what I believed was moving too much and I was absolutely sure she was going in for the kill, but hadn’t I learned anything? She was all about surprises. All of a sudden, she stopped the tickling, and started to tie my wrists back to the bedposts.
- What are you doing?, I whispered, while trying to catch my breath.
- What does it look like I’m doing?
- Well, I…didn’t..move…PLEASE don’t…
- You’re absolutely right.
- So why d…
- Ssssh!
Once again, she covered my words with her hand.
- You see, there are different types of tormenting. You went through the tickling aspect surprisingly well considering how ticklish you are, which makes me assume you must really enjoy it. Am I right?
I could hear in her voice how much SHE was enjoying herself. And after all this, I felt like I couldn’t deny it any more. I nodded.
- Good girl. You’re finally giving in, huh?
She sat down on top of my hips, and started to softly and slowly tickle my neck. It almost felt even worse than if she had just used the hairbrush again. This was another type of torture. A more slow, sensual one, causing silent giggles.
- In what way did you say you enjoyed this again?
I bit my lip, and couldn’t look her in the eyes. I couldn’t stop giggling either. She smiled, and slowly started to move her fingers down towards my underarms, my armpits, my belly, my sides, and then up again. When her fingers hit a specific point on my sides, a spot that tickled extra bad, I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I moaned.