PhilipRJ_UK
2nd Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Feb 8, 2012
- Messages
- 1,422
- Points
- 36
This is the most detailed story I've written so far. I hope you enjoy reading it 
‘The Artist’s Secret’
The painting on the canvas was taking shape. Slowly, and with a delicate precision, the form and colours of the sunflowers were taking on their own presence. The sunlight pouring in through the large windows of the classroom illuminated the canvas with a brilliant yellow beam. The artist’s hand was skilled; it worked with care, and a slow, considered technique that was rooted in a passion for the subject and a desire for beauty. As the final touches were applied and the brush was withdrawn, Kelly set down her brush and studied her work. She was a passionate artist, with an eye for intricacy and colour that was far superior to her fellow students. In a class of fifteen students, she had always impressed her teacher, Miss Fox, with paintings that were of an exceptionally high standard.
Despite her prodigious talent and infinite enthusiasm for art, Kelly’s ability to maintain her concentration was not her strongest attribute; she often found it a challenge to focus, particularly if she didn’t find interest in a particular subject, something that Miss Fox was well aware of. Setting her brush down, Kelly sighed and leaned back in her chair, stretching her back and attempting to rid herself of the stiffness in her upper body that had accumulated over three hours of painting.
“Students!” said Miss Fox, standing at the front of the classroom next to a large, empty easel. “That will be all for this afternoon’s lesson. I shall be here tomorrow afternoon if any of you wish to speak to me”. Miss Fox’s tone was friendly, but also somewhat authoritarian. She was a vastly experienced and knowledgeable teacher who expected high standards of work from her pupils. At a height of 5'9 with a lean, toned figure, firm, rounded breasts, deep red hair and emerald-green eyes, Miss Fox's attractiveness was complimented by a curious, often daring mindset that had been demonstrated through her particular love for human body-art. Miss Fox commanded respect from her students. Kelly had always felt that she had reached the standards that were expected, but she had witnessed many pupils leaving the class having had their work analysed and dissected by Miss Fox’s trained eyes. In the six months she had been studying art, Kelly had avoided severe scrutiny from her teacher, but she knew that it could change without any warning, so constant was the pressure. “You may leave” continued Miss Fox.
As a cacophony of noise erupted as the students began to file out of the classroom, Kelly stood up and removed her grey button-up shirt, which was flecked with spots of yellow and orange oil paint. Leaving her painting on its easel, she placed her brushes and palette into a small drawer on the desk. As the classroom slowly emptied, From her peripheral vision, Kelly noticed that Miss Fox was walking slowly towards her. The teacher’s high-heels clicked on the wooden floor as she approached Kelly’s desk. “You focused well, Today, I’ve been impressed” began Miss Fox. Kelly closed the desk drawer and turned to face her teacher. “Thank you” she replied, slightly unsure of how to respond; compliments were a rare occurrence in her class. While waiting for Miss Fox to respond, Kelly thought she saw her teacher staring intently into her eyes with a look of eager anticipation. Though slightly unnerved, Kelly had grown accustomed to glances in her direction, admiring or otherwise. By any standard, Kelly was a beautiful girl. With a petite and curvaceous 5’6 frame, eyes and hair of the deepest brown, and a warm, friendly smile, she had been the subject of much admiration during her time at the art college. When combined with her prodigious talent, Kelly’s popularity within the college was significant.
As Miss Fox’s eyes remained focused on her, she blushed slightly, unsure of her teacher’s intentions, and picked her up her bag, “Did you enjoy the still-life concept of painting?” enquired Miss Fox. “I-I did” replied Kelly, stuttering slightly in her uncertainty. “I think it might be something I’ll explore in greater detail” she continued, placing her bag on her shoulder. “There is something interesting I’d like to show you” said Miss Fox, placing her arm around Kelly’s shoulder and gently guiding her towards the front of the classroom. “Yes?” replied Kelly. “There’s always room for improvement; as an artist in development, you never stop bettering yourself”, began her teacher. Kelly nodded in agreement. “You can utilise all types of methods to improve, such as thinking of an unusual canvas and painting on it.” Miss Fox’s green eyes flashed, and her expression was showing an uncharacteristic eagerness.
Kelly, although comfortable in her teacher’s presence, was surprised by her demeanour. Was Miss Fox beginning to demonstrate a change in character? Kelly could not be sure, but she WAS eager to hear more. “Come into my office” continued Miss Fox, signalling towards a dark green door on the classroom’s far wall. “I’ll illustrate exactly what I mean”. Kelly followed her teacher towards the door. Excitement was coarsing through her, and her pulse rate was slightly faster. Maybe, she thought, I’m going to be shown some unseen works. Miss Fox opened the door and moved aside, allowing Kelly a clear view of the room’s interior.
Kelly’s breath caught in her throat and her stomach became drum-skin tight as she gazed into the room. A thick, rich white carpet covered the floor, while spectacular landscape paintings adorned the red walls. In the middle of the room stood a large, fur-covered, wooden x-shaped frame. Cuffs were mounted at its top and bottom sections, and the sturdiness of the structure belied its welcoming, plush covering. Kelly immersed herself in the sights of the room, and only the voice of Miss Fox brought her back into focus. “The body” began Miss Fox, speaking slowly and clearly, “Is the purest form of art in existence. No canvas can convey the beauty of the human body or do justice to it. Being tied, without control of movement, is the definition of perfection in art”. Her nervousness increasing, but her excitement building, Kelly turned to face her teacher. She attempted to sound calm as she replied, but it was not an easy task. “What are you going to do?” she asked. The teacher smiled and placed a comforting arm around Kelly’s shoulders. “Let me show you how the human body can be used a canvas” she replied softly. “Lie on the frame and let yourself be absorbed”.
Swallowing hard, Kelly looked at the device. A fierce battle was raging inside her brain; she was terrified at the thought of being unable to move with her body at the mercy of her teacher, and yet she also found the prospect exciting and daring. “I-I’m ticklish” she stuttered, by way of a reply. “I don’t know if I’d be able to….” Her words trailed off as she struggled to speak. “Don’t worry” replied Miss Fox. “I’ll take care of you”. Feeling reassured by her teacher’s obvious concern, and slipping her brain into its ‘nothing to lose’ mode, Kelly nodded, and smiled weakly. “Put your bag on the floor and lie on the frame” were her teacher’s instructions. “I’ll take care of it after that”.
Kelly lay down on the frame and positioned her arms and legs in a spread-eagle fashion. Her mind was spinning and waves of adrenaline were flowing swiftly through her entire body. Though fully clothed, she was beginning to feel feel naked in her mind, and could feel Miss Fox’s eyes scanning her as she lay on the frame. Kelly was wearing a frilled pink skirt, a white, floral-patterned top that hung loosely at the shoulders. On her feet were a pair of brown sandals that showed off her curved, well-kept feet and dark blue toenails. Kelly lay silent and as still as she could, while attempting to maintain control of her breathing. “I’m going to tie you to the frame”, Kelly heard Miss Fox say.
As she gazed up at the ceiling, Kelly felt her arms being stretched as her wrists were locked onto the leather cuffs. As soon as she felt the tension on her arms, Kelly’s chest tightened and her breathing became rapid, but still controlled. “Be calm” whispered Miss Fox as she secured the cuffs. “I won’t do anything that hurts you”. The sound of the buckles being tightened excited Kelly; she felt her sense of control slip away. She was heading into a state of helplessness; unable to move, and at the mercy of another.
As Miss Fox moved to Kelly’s feet, her arms were stretched out above her head, rendering her upper body immobile. Her soft, clean-shaved armpits were fully exposed, while the nerve endings of her ribcage and smooth tummy were being brought to the point where the slightest touch would have tickled and sent Kelly into a state of hysteria.
Miss Fox slipped off Kelly’s sandals as she began to secure her feet inside the cuffs. Kelly wiggled her toes as the air hit her bare feet and she lifted her head to gaze down towards her teacher. Miss Fox was methodically securing her feet; ensuring that movement would be severely restricted, and Kelly felt her legs tighten as the cuffs were buckled together. “You’re secured; at least, you won’t be able to move with any real ease” explained Miss Fox, with a brief tickle of Kelly’s soles as she stood up. Kelly squeaked as she felt the sharp touch of the nails on her sole. Her legs were now secured to the same level of tension as her arms. “Please don’t hurt me” whimpered Kelly pitifully. She knew that Miss Fox would never do so, but Kelly was into unknown realms; she needed reassurance. “You know I would never do that” said Miss Fox. Picking up a large pair of fabric scissors from a shelf on the wall, she continued. “I have to cut your clothes off; don’t worry, they’ll be replaced”. Knowing that she couldn’t prevent it, Kelly merely nodded.
Carefully, Miss Fox began to snip through Kelly’s top. She sliced through the middle of the material and eventually, the floral garment fell open around Kelly, exposing her rising and falling chest, and her 36D breasts, which were hidden only by a lace-trimmed black bra. Miss Fox removed the vest and dropped it into the floor before beginning to snip Kelly’s skirt. As she did so, Kelly began to experience a new feeling. As wrong as she knew it SHOULD have felt, Kelly was finding erotic feelings in her current situation; in a small corner of her mind, she relished the lack of control, the inability to move. Her own art teacher was removing her clothes, and would soon be using her body as a canvas. Kelly’s open-mindedness had never led her into this kind of scenario before, but what she didn’t know excited her. As Miss Fox removed her skirt, Kelly realised that she was truly at someone else’s mercy. Miss Fox, with erotic thoughts of her own swirling inside her head. stood up and took several steps back as she admired the sight before her. Kelly’s lean, sculpted body lay prone, at the mercy of the teacher. Her skin, tanned and smooth, was perfect. Kelly’s cute black bra was complimented by a lacy black thong. She was heaven-sent, and even Miss Fox, an attractive and desirable brunette, was captivated by the beauty and poise of what lay before her.
“H-how long is this going to be happening for?” asked Kelly cautiously, as Miss Fox arranged two palettes, and a variety of brushes, large and small, on a small table next to the x-frame. “Art is only completed when total satisfaction is reached” she replied softly. Kelly knew; she wouldn’t end until her own high standards had been reached, which for Miss Fox, was an often futile exercise. The teacher moved to the foot of the frame where Kelly's feet lay still.
Silence enveloped the room for ten seconds as Miss Fox cast her eye over Kelly’s smooth feet. “Your feet are so cute” commented Miss Fox, as she dipped the wispy bristles of the first brush into a light-blue shade of watercolour paint. “I’m going to paint them!” she continued enthusiastically. Kelly shivered and wiggled her toes; whether she would be able to tolerate this, she didn’t know. As the brush settled onto her sole, the ticklish sensation, akin to an electric shock, zipped through Kelly’s body. Her leg muscles tensed and an unwilling smile formed on her face. Miss Fox began to guide the brush up and down Kelly’s left sole, its bristles took to the smooth surface perfectly, and a blue trail of followed behind. Kelly's velvet-soft soles provided no resistance to the brush; it was a battle that she knew could not be won.“Teehehehenooooo!!!” squealed Kelly as her attempts to stem the laughter failed and her ticklishness betrayed her. “Notthahahat!!! Nothahaha my feeethehehehe!!!”
At the foot of the frame, Miss Fox had found her groove; the brush followed no set path, it moved randomly, probing and teasing, swirling and gliding across every square inch of Kelly’s ticklish sole. Her toes flexed frantically, taking on a life of their own as they tried to prevent the sensations registering. Miss Fox, so skilled and cunning, counteracted the movement by applying a purple shade to the second brush and worming the bristles in between Kelly’s toes, probing underneath their delicate base and to the ticklish surface in between each toe. "You can wiggle these little toes all day, my darling" cooed Miss Fox, noticing Kelly's frantic movements. "They're not going to get away from my brush!!" Miss Fox proceeded to bend Kelly's toes back, tightening the skin on her sole and preventing any movement. She then began to flick the brush across Kelly's immobile toes expertly.
Miss Fox's teasing increased Kelly's agony; the feeling of not being able to prevent the tickling was simply the purest torture. Deep inside her mind's eye, Kelly could not escape the image of her feet being tickled. She could picture the brushes stimulating her soles and toes in tandem, and the wide, mischievous smile on Miss Fox's face as she relished the level of domination she had now reached. Kelly begged and pleaded with every ticklish touch as tears of laughter began to slide down her cheeks, but no respite was granted, and Miss Fox responded with mock-annoyance. "If you don't keep these feet still, Kelly, I'll tickle them even harder and make you laugh even louder!" she chuckled, flicking the brush quickly from Kelly's heel to the middle of her sole while softly stroking the second brush in the sensitive area underneath her second toe. Kelly knew she was caught; the tickling of her feet prevented her from holding them still, but with every toe wiggle, with every jerk of her feet, Miss Fox would tickle in a devilish fashion. Every so often, Kelly would flex her toes to try and block the sensations; this would be met by the brush's bristles flicking across her tender digits, which caused them to splay outwards wildly. "You really don't like having these toes tickled, do you?" said Miss Fox, lightly brushing up and down the stems of the toes and swirling the brush in circles on their pads. "NOOOOO!!! I HAHAHAHATTEEEE IT!!!!!" screamed Kelly emphatically. "I wish I had some stocks in the room" muttered Miss Fox. "I'd love to tie these toes back and stretch your soles fully. Imagine how well I could paint on them!". Kelly shuddered as she heard the words; this was torturous enough for her. Without warning, Miss Fox suddenly changed her tactics. While continuing to tickle Kelly's left foot with the blue brush, she switched the second brush to Kelly's right foot, and began to paint both soles at the same time with slow, alternating up-and-down strokes. Kelly bucked, thrashed, and shook with laughter as she felt the tickling sensations, now doubled, shooting through her.
With both of her feet now being stimulated, Kelly’s mouth fell open and giggles, snorts, and occasional pleading, filled the room. “What’s the matter, Kelly?” mocked Miss Fox. “I’m making your feet look pretty!!!”. Kelly clenched her teeth as spasms of ticklishness erupted inside her; why Miss Fox was torturing her to her limits, she did not know. All Kelly knew was the soft touch of the brush, cruelly zipping across her soles and in between her ticklish toes. “Ten toes; ten ticklish toes, just waiting for me!!” Miss Fox was filled with delight; her desire to control movement was being fulfilled. She was showing no mercy. In between brush strokes, Miss Fox would utilise her manicured nails for variety, raking and revving them mercilessly across Kelly's paint-streaked feet. Miss Fox's nails were hard and sharp, and she knew exactly how to exploit the ticklish spots as she drew wild patterns on Kelly’s soles. As Kelly continued to convulse with laughter, Miss Fox's often-wicked nature got the better of her once more. Dipping her fingers into the various shades of oil-paint that filled the second palette, she began to scribble them across Kelly's soles at lightning-speed. "It's time for some finger painting!!" she sang. Kelly screamed as she felt the speed of the tickling increase. "AAAAAANOOOOOHAHAHAHAHA!" she laughed while shaking her head and her feet desperately. It was as though Miss Fox was tickling Kelly's feet in a fast-forward motion; the speed of her fingers on the soles and underneath Kelly's toes was vicious, and there was simply no escape for the student. Kelly's feet were now almost completely covered with paint, and still Miss Fox showed absolutely no sign that she was prepared to relent. "I'm going to stimulate these feet and make you laugh so much, darling" stated Miss Fox as she varied her speed from slow to fast, and fast to slow.
Kelly could fight no more; the frantic wiggling of her toes had been reduced to pitiful flailing, and her paint-covered soles were now beyond sensitive. A light sheen of sweat covered Kelly’s upper body. She found herself caught cruelly between two feelings; pleasure and torment were fighting for supremacy inside her brain, and the deathly mix was more than Kelly could bear. “OOOOHHHGAAAAD!” screamed the tied student as Miss Fox removed two felt pens from her shirt pocket and began to draw large circles on her soft soles with their cruel, hard tips. "I'm drawing on your feeeeeet!!!!" mocked Miss Fox as the pens continued their ticklish work. Kelly clenched and unclenched her hands and strained against the strong cuffs. Escape was at the forefront of her mind.
“You’re enjoying this!” laughed Miss Fox, idly scribbling her fingernails on the pads of Kelly’s big toes. “You’re enjoying me tickling and drawing on these cute little feet!”. Miss Fox’s voice, along with the sound of her own laughter, began to blend together into one overwhelming sound. Kelly could hear heartbeat pounding as her torment continued. Kelly would have given anything to escape the agony, but she had been tied well and the cuffs held firm. Time no longer mattered; the tickling felt as though it had no end. Fighting and squirming were hopeless tactics; Kelly’s strength had been eroded by the brushes, the pens, and Miss Fox’s tickling fingers. Kelly prayed, silently, for an ending.
“Kelly, honey” said Miss Fox quietly. Kelly’s eyelids twitched and a low moan escaped her lips. Picking up one of the brushes, Miss Fox swirled it inside Kelly’s belly button. Kelly squealed and her eyes opened wide. “Nohehehehe!” she squeaked. Miss Fox smiled and spun the paintbrush between her fingers. “You’re such a ticklish girl” she said, gazing down at Kelly, who was now a pitiful sight to behold. Her soles and toes twitched and pulsed with ticklishness, while her body ached from the desperate struggle she had put up.
Silently, Kelly observed as Miss Fox slowly walked towards the head frame. After a visit to the office's sink, in her hand she now carried two clean brushes. “Are you OK?” enquired Miss Fox as she picked up the paint tray. “N-no!” replied Kelly. “Please stop now; it tickles so much when you use the brushes”. “You’re learning, though” said Miss Fox. “You’re learning about body painting!” “But I’m too ticklish; I can’t take it!” pleaded Kelly. “Darling, it’ll be finished eventually. You’ll learn much from this, I promise” Miss Fox, now carrying two brushes and a tray of thick, rich oil paints, took up a new position, straddling Kelly's torso.
Holding the palette in her left hand, the teacher dipped the thin, wiry bristles into the small circle of red paint. Kelly watched her do this, and her muscles tensed as the brush, its bristles now a deep red, made its way towards her quivering torso. With the delicate precision of a skilled painter, Miss Fox guided the brush onto the soft, exposed region of skin under her right arm. Kelly gasped in shock as she felt the brush touching her skin, and fought to suppress a squeak of laughter by biting her lip. Miss Fox began to slowly swirl the brush in a spiral pattern across the hollow of Kelly’s underarm. Her skin, flawless and clean, was purer than any canvas, and Miss Fox began to immerse herself in the tickling once more. However ticklish Kelly's feet were, it paled into insignificance when compared to her underarms, and as the brush began to dance a ticklish path across her skin, the laughter burst from Kelly before she had a chance to prevent it.
“Let me tickle you, let me paint you” she cooed, as the brush swirled and swooped with grace across the ticklish skin. Kelly’s brain fought for control; she tried to overcome the sensations, but they were overwhelmingly powerful, and no matter how much she clenched her teeth or tensed her muscles, the laughter continued to flow. “OHHHHHHAHAHAHAHA!” she screamed as the nerve endings were stimulated. “T-TICCCCKLEEESSHAHAHAHAHA!!”. Miss Fox was captivated by Kelly’s ticklishness and beauty, and her skilled hand controlled the brush expertly as it probed and tickled. “You’re a ticklish little girl, Kelly” she teased as she exchanged red for blue before continuing. “I love ticklish armpits; soft and so sensitive to my brush”. Kelly's armpits were as soft as her feet, with no impurities. The brush flicked wickedly from left to right, and up and down with no mercy. Kelly did not know how many bristles were tickling her, but she swore that she could feel every single one. "Tickle tickle" whispered Miss Fox, her eyes flashing as she skilfully dictated the movement of the brush. "I could tickle these armpits until night falls.....maybe I will!" Kelly whimpered as she heard her teacher's words; surely the torment would end long before that time. Kelly did not dwell on the possibility however; Miss Fox had discovered a sensitive spot located in the centre of the deepest section of Kelly's underarm and was now furiously running the brush in a circular pattern across the skin.
“AAAAHAHAHAHA!!” Kelly screamed; her chest was heaving and her eyes were closed tight as the brush exposed her ticklish areas cruelly. Noticing a window of opportunity to increase Kelly’s torture, Miss Fox loaded the second brush with a deep green paint, and climbed over the x-frame, straddling Kelly’s tummy and within easy reach of both of her underarms. Kelly gasped as she saw her teacher gazing down at her. “What are you-" Kelly broke off as she noticed the two brushes. “Not that, anything but that” she whispered. “Be quiet, my girl, or I'll use my fingers to tickle your underarms instead; you'd hate to feel my nails raking the ticklish flesh” said Miss Fox as she lowered the two brushes into Kelly’s underarms and began to paint with quick, efficient strokes. Kelly exploded into a maelstrom of desperate laughter; her underarms were unbearably ticklish, and now they were being tormented in tandem. The restraints were adding to the unbearable sensations; Kelly's skin had been stretched taut, and the all friction had been eliminated.
Kelly squirmed as much as the cuffs would allow and begged for the torment to cease, but her appeals were ignored. “You’re my canvas, my ticklish canvas” said Miss Fox as she continued the assault. Kelly had her eyes shut tight; she did not want to be witness to her own ticklish torment, but every so often, she caught a glimpse of the gleeful smile of Miss Fox’s face as she relished every second of the situation. Streaks of paint covered Kelly’s underarms, her body was shaking as the sensations seeped into her brain, and her brown hair was being whipped uncontrollably as she shook her head. Tears leaked out of her eyes and rolled down her flushed cheeks. Placing the palette and brushes on Kelly’s tummy, Miss Fox began to rake her fingernails across Kelly’s underarms. "How about my fingernails on your tummy? Do you like that, Kelly?" enquired the teacher. "How about my finger inside your ticklish belly button?" A spasm of ticklishness ripped through Kelly, and her laughter became guttural and maniacal; if the soft bristles of the brush were torturous enough, Miss Fox’s fingernails were almost too much to bear. “PLEEEEEAAAASSSEHAHAHAHAHA” pleaded Kelly breathlessly. “Ssssh, my ticklish girl” replied Miss Fox quietly. “Let me tickle you”. Kelly could do nothing to prevent it as her underarms were tormented. With every touch, the soft skin of Kelly’s underarms betrayed her, and with every second that passed, her resistance began to weaken. It was a torturous dilemma; Kelly could not bear the tickling, and yet, deep inside her brain, erotic thoughts were spiralling uncontrollably. Mixed in among her hysterical laughter, the occasional slow moan would appear, signalling her unwilling secret enjoyment of what was happening to her.
Meanwhile, Miss Fox had gotten fully into her stride. She had quickly taken note of the sensitive nature of Kelly’s upper body, and ensured that they were focused on by both her fingernails and the paintbrushes. She employed a varied approach; occasionally using her fingers on one underarm and a paintbrush on the other, and she even switched to Kelly’s tummy, applying delicate brush strokes around her bully button, to keep the student on the edge. Kelly’s stomach was flat and toned; its nerve endings were many, and the light strokes of the brush drew strong reactions from her. “I think Kelly’s tummy and underarms like being painted!!” teased the teacher. “But do they like being drawn on?” Kelly’s mind was so scrambled from the tickling, that her teacher’s words barely registered; it was only when she saw Miss Fox removing the felt pen lids once more, that she quickly regained her focus. “Please, don’t use those” she gasped. “I’ll lose my mind if you tickle me again”. Kelly felt a cold surge run through her as she imagined the ruthless tips of the felt pens grazing against her flesh; it was beginning to strike undiluted fear into her.
Chuckling, Miss Fox removed the pen tops and lowered the yellow tips into the hollows of Kelly’s underarms. Kelly flinched as she felt the points make contact; she knew that this would be twice as agonising. “Let’s see if these underarms like to be drawn on” said Miss Fox, as she began to streak yellow lines across the flawless skin. Kelly exploded with laughter and shook her whole body frantically. “NOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” was all she could manage to scream; words were now beyond her, and her breath came in short gasps. “Tickle tickle!” sang Miss Fox happily. “Poor little Kelly is ticklish on her pits!! Do you like my pens?” she mocked. “N-NOOO!” spluttered Kelly. “Aww, honey, but I’m making you so colourful and cute!!” The pens were effective in eliciting reactions from Kelly. Her underarms were deathly ticklish, and Miss Fox took great pleasure in tormenting her student’s helpless body. The x-frame and cuffs stood firm against Kelly's movement as the student strained for the slightest relief. Miss Fox, her own cheeks now slightly red, also applied the pens to Kelly’s tummy and ribcage; drawing circles around Kelly's belly button and tracing spiral patterns across her sensitive ribs.
After fifteen minutes of torment, and as Miss Fox’s ruthless tickling tools finally fell still, Kelly lay still, her brain scrambled and her body quivering, as she breathed heavily. The student was in a state of tickled shock; her paint and ink-streaked underarms and tummy were tingling and buzzing, her cheeks were crimson, and her hair covered her face. Miss Fox tenderly brushed the hair away from Kelly’s eyes and gazed down at her. “You’re learning an essential lesson, Kelly” said Miss Fox. “I’m teaching you that the human body can be used so effectively in art”. Kelly’s strength was drained, and she could only fashion a weak reply. “P-please stop now. I can’t take this” she whimpered while staring mournfully into her teacher’s eyes. “Not yet; not quite yet” replied Miss Fox. She placed the palette and brushes on the table, and picked up the fabric scissors once again. “W-what are you doing?” asked Kelly fearfully. “Your cute little breasts” replied Miss Fox simply. Before Kelly could protest, Miss Fox had sliced through her bra and slid the black garment out from under Kelly’s body.
As her pert, perfectly formed breasts were exposed, Kelly felt a wave of panic and fear surge through her. She was helpless, and her teacher had now exposed an area of her body that was sacred to her, but also deathly ticklish. She attempted to maintain her composure as Miss Fox’s eyes scanned her. Powerless to move and with seemingly no hope of Miss Fox relenting, Kelly attempted to see the logic in her teacher’s plan; the body painting was torturous, yet there was the chance of some new knowledge to be gained. Kelly repeated that thought silently as Miss Fox loaded the stiff-bristled brush with a dark green paint. “You’re so beautiful; perfect for me to paint on” said the teacher as she straddled the frame once more. Kelly knew it; her breasts were going to be painted and nothing would prevent it from happening; mercy was not on Miss Fox’s agenda.
“These breasts look so ticklish!” giggled Miss Fox, feeling slightly turned on by the situation. “Let’s see……” The teacher placed the brush onto Kelly’s left breast and slowly began to paint in a circular motion. The brush encircled the nipple; a particularly sensitive area, and Kelly quickly dissolved into laughter. “Ohhhnoooohehehehe” she moaned as the sensations filled her body once again. Her toes flexed and her body tensed. “Ticklish little breasts! Kelly has ticklish little breasts” teased Miss Fox as she allowed the brush to glide across the skin, its bristles leaving a swirling pattern of green on Kelly’s tanned skin. The sensations, though torturous, were turning Kelly on, somewhat unwillingly. She WANTED to hate the feel of the brush as it tickled her breast, but the primitive pleasure she felt was being balanced by the ticklish sensations; it was too much. “AAAAAHAHAHAHAHA” screamed Kelly as the bristles grazed against her sensitive nipple. “NOTTTHERE HEHEHEHEHE”. “Not your breasts?” mocked Miss Fox cruelly. “But darling, they’re so cute and ticklish!”
Continuing to circle the brush across Kelly’s left breast, Miss Fox again dipped her fingers into the paint, and began to use her fingernails to tickle Kelly's right breast. She began by encircling her fingers around Kelly's sensitive nipple, before expanding and raking her fingers in circles across the entire circumference of Kelly's breast. Kelly was not allowed to maintain her balance; Miss Fox altered her techniques without warning, from one finger stroking gently to five fingers raking and probing across the skin. Kelly squirmed what little she could and begged when she caught enough breath to do so, but the smile on Miss Fox’s face told its own story. The teacher was captivated by the beauty and ticklishness of her student; her dream was coming true. “Tickle tickle” cooed the teacher as she began to use one brush on each breast. "Your breasts are perfect for finger-painting!".
Kelly’s back arched and she groaned desperately as both breasts were stimulated by the bristles; the cuffs prevented any real movement, but Kelly strained against the bonds as she tried to overcome the sensations. “OOHH GOOODDDDDD!!!!” she screamed. Kelly had kept her ticklishness quiet for many years, and yet here, her teacher had exploited her sensitive areas effortlessly. Despite Miss Fox’s talents, her technique was purposely haphazard; she was not attempting to paint beautifully, only to tease and tickle Kelly’s skin. She tickled every inch of Kelly’s breasts without missing the tiniest area. Kelly’s laughter was under Miss Fox’s control, from frantic screams as the teacher raked her nails up and down her smooth skin, to soft giggles as one finger was used to encircle her nipples. Miss Fox threw Kelly regularly by ceasing the tickling and slowly rubbing Kelly's breasts with her hands, massaging the sensitive skin and allowing Kelly to assume the tickling had ended; this would last for a brief period before the tickling would begin once more. The patterns covering Kelly’s ticklish breasts were random, but the sensations were not. Occasionally, Miss Fox would paint dots onto the skin with sharp applications of the brush,. The rapid-fire sensations threw Kelly even more, and as her tears of laughter continued to slide down her aching cheeks, she prayed that her sanity would not desert her. “Such ticklish little breasts, perfect for my fingers to stimulate” said Miss Fox as she playfully buzzed her nails across Kelly’s nipples, which were now as hard as granite and painfully sensitive. Occasionally, through her blurred vision, she caught a glimpse of her teacher straddling her, her face gleeful, as she tickled the beautiful girl lying below her. Feelings of pleasure, fear, and a secret enjoyment were enveloping Kelly’s brain; she wished the torture would stop, but hoped that it would continue.
“My, my Kelly, you’re so ticklish” said Miss Fox as she slowly brought the paintbrush to a standstill. Kelly began to cough and splutter; her energy had been drained and she felt weak. Her breasts, underarms and torso were covered in paint and her nipples felt hyper-sensitive due to their stimulation. Her hair was ruffled and her cheek muscles ached. Even though her feet were not being tickled, Kelly could still feel faint ticklish sensations dancing across her soles. Kelly slowly turned her head and saw Miss Fox standing by the sink, rinsing the paint residue from the two brushes. “P-p-please stop now” moaned Kelly in barely a whisper. “I can’t take any more”. “You can. I assure, I’m not finished quite yet”. Kelly shuddered at the thought of what could lie ahead.
Miss Fox stood silently, examining the sight that lay before her. “You’re covered with paint, honey” began the teacher. “And you can’t leave if you’re not clean!” Kelly lifted her head slightly and gazed down at her torso, which indeed, was now a legacy of Miss Fox’s skilled hands. “L-let me go, I beg you” pleased Kelly, her voice slightly hoarse. “Not without getting you clean, first” replied Miss Fox. Kelly wondered what Miss Fox was now planning; how would she possibly clean her while she remained bound to the table? Walking slowly over to a large cupboard mounted on the wall, Miss Fox turned to face her student. Her eyes flashing and a smile of excitement on her lips, it was apparent that another plan was beginning to take shape in her mind. “I’ve got lots of nice things in this cupboard to clean you with” she said eagerly. “Let me see what I can use”. Shaking her red hair, Miss Fox began to remove various items from the cupboard.
Kelly whimpered and dropped her head. She had assumed that it was over, and that Miss Fox’s lesson, so torturous in nature, had ended. Her endurance was finite, and the thought of her body being cleaned in as torturous a fashion as she had been painted, frightened Kelly. The room was now silent, but Kelly knew that soon, her teacher would begin to speak. Frustratingly for Kelly, her plans, for the moment, remained secretive, unknown, and timeless.
Sequel to be posted soon........
‘The Artist’s Secret’
The painting on the canvas was taking shape. Slowly, and with a delicate precision, the form and colours of the sunflowers were taking on their own presence. The sunlight pouring in through the large windows of the classroom illuminated the canvas with a brilliant yellow beam. The artist’s hand was skilled; it worked with care, and a slow, considered technique that was rooted in a passion for the subject and a desire for beauty. As the final touches were applied and the brush was withdrawn, Kelly set down her brush and studied her work. She was a passionate artist, with an eye for intricacy and colour that was far superior to her fellow students. In a class of fifteen students, she had always impressed her teacher, Miss Fox, with paintings that were of an exceptionally high standard.
Despite her prodigious talent and infinite enthusiasm for art, Kelly’s ability to maintain her concentration was not her strongest attribute; she often found it a challenge to focus, particularly if she didn’t find interest in a particular subject, something that Miss Fox was well aware of. Setting her brush down, Kelly sighed and leaned back in her chair, stretching her back and attempting to rid herself of the stiffness in her upper body that had accumulated over three hours of painting.
“Students!” said Miss Fox, standing at the front of the classroom next to a large, empty easel. “That will be all for this afternoon’s lesson. I shall be here tomorrow afternoon if any of you wish to speak to me”. Miss Fox’s tone was friendly, but also somewhat authoritarian. She was a vastly experienced and knowledgeable teacher who expected high standards of work from her pupils. At a height of 5'9 with a lean, toned figure, firm, rounded breasts, deep red hair and emerald-green eyes, Miss Fox's attractiveness was complimented by a curious, often daring mindset that had been demonstrated through her particular love for human body-art. Miss Fox commanded respect from her students. Kelly had always felt that she had reached the standards that were expected, but she had witnessed many pupils leaving the class having had their work analysed and dissected by Miss Fox’s trained eyes. In the six months she had been studying art, Kelly had avoided severe scrutiny from her teacher, but she knew that it could change without any warning, so constant was the pressure. “You may leave” continued Miss Fox.
As a cacophony of noise erupted as the students began to file out of the classroom, Kelly stood up and removed her grey button-up shirt, which was flecked with spots of yellow and orange oil paint. Leaving her painting on its easel, she placed her brushes and palette into a small drawer on the desk. As the classroom slowly emptied, From her peripheral vision, Kelly noticed that Miss Fox was walking slowly towards her. The teacher’s high-heels clicked on the wooden floor as she approached Kelly’s desk. “You focused well, Today, I’ve been impressed” began Miss Fox. Kelly closed the desk drawer and turned to face her teacher. “Thank you” she replied, slightly unsure of how to respond; compliments were a rare occurrence in her class. While waiting for Miss Fox to respond, Kelly thought she saw her teacher staring intently into her eyes with a look of eager anticipation. Though slightly unnerved, Kelly had grown accustomed to glances in her direction, admiring or otherwise. By any standard, Kelly was a beautiful girl. With a petite and curvaceous 5’6 frame, eyes and hair of the deepest brown, and a warm, friendly smile, she had been the subject of much admiration during her time at the art college. When combined with her prodigious talent, Kelly’s popularity within the college was significant.
As Miss Fox’s eyes remained focused on her, she blushed slightly, unsure of her teacher’s intentions, and picked her up her bag, “Did you enjoy the still-life concept of painting?” enquired Miss Fox. “I-I did” replied Kelly, stuttering slightly in her uncertainty. “I think it might be something I’ll explore in greater detail” she continued, placing her bag on her shoulder. “There is something interesting I’d like to show you” said Miss Fox, placing her arm around Kelly’s shoulder and gently guiding her towards the front of the classroom. “Yes?” replied Kelly. “There’s always room for improvement; as an artist in development, you never stop bettering yourself”, began her teacher. Kelly nodded in agreement. “You can utilise all types of methods to improve, such as thinking of an unusual canvas and painting on it.” Miss Fox’s green eyes flashed, and her expression was showing an uncharacteristic eagerness.
Kelly, although comfortable in her teacher’s presence, was surprised by her demeanour. Was Miss Fox beginning to demonstrate a change in character? Kelly could not be sure, but she WAS eager to hear more. “Come into my office” continued Miss Fox, signalling towards a dark green door on the classroom’s far wall. “I’ll illustrate exactly what I mean”. Kelly followed her teacher towards the door. Excitement was coarsing through her, and her pulse rate was slightly faster. Maybe, she thought, I’m going to be shown some unseen works. Miss Fox opened the door and moved aside, allowing Kelly a clear view of the room’s interior.
Kelly’s breath caught in her throat and her stomach became drum-skin tight as she gazed into the room. A thick, rich white carpet covered the floor, while spectacular landscape paintings adorned the red walls. In the middle of the room stood a large, fur-covered, wooden x-shaped frame. Cuffs were mounted at its top and bottom sections, and the sturdiness of the structure belied its welcoming, plush covering. Kelly immersed herself in the sights of the room, and only the voice of Miss Fox brought her back into focus. “The body” began Miss Fox, speaking slowly and clearly, “Is the purest form of art in existence. No canvas can convey the beauty of the human body or do justice to it. Being tied, without control of movement, is the definition of perfection in art”. Her nervousness increasing, but her excitement building, Kelly turned to face her teacher. She attempted to sound calm as she replied, but it was not an easy task. “What are you going to do?” she asked. The teacher smiled and placed a comforting arm around Kelly’s shoulders. “Let me show you how the human body can be used a canvas” she replied softly. “Lie on the frame and let yourself be absorbed”.
Swallowing hard, Kelly looked at the device. A fierce battle was raging inside her brain; she was terrified at the thought of being unable to move with her body at the mercy of her teacher, and yet she also found the prospect exciting and daring. “I-I’m ticklish” she stuttered, by way of a reply. “I don’t know if I’d be able to….” Her words trailed off as she struggled to speak. “Don’t worry” replied Miss Fox. “I’ll take care of you”. Feeling reassured by her teacher’s obvious concern, and slipping her brain into its ‘nothing to lose’ mode, Kelly nodded, and smiled weakly. “Put your bag on the floor and lie on the frame” were her teacher’s instructions. “I’ll take care of it after that”.
Kelly lay down on the frame and positioned her arms and legs in a spread-eagle fashion. Her mind was spinning and waves of adrenaline were flowing swiftly through her entire body. Though fully clothed, she was beginning to feel feel naked in her mind, and could feel Miss Fox’s eyes scanning her as she lay on the frame. Kelly was wearing a frilled pink skirt, a white, floral-patterned top that hung loosely at the shoulders. On her feet were a pair of brown sandals that showed off her curved, well-kept feet and dark blue toenails. Kelly lay silent and as still as she could, while attempting to maintain control of her breathing. “I’m going to tie you to the frame”, Kelly heard Miss Fox say.
As she gazed up at the ceiling, Kelly felt her arms being stretched as her wrists were locked onto the leather cuffs. As soon as she felt the tension on her arms, Kelly’s chest tightened and her breathing became rapid, but still controlled. “Be calm” whispered Miss Fox as she secured the cuffs. “I won’t do anything that hurts you”. The sound of the buckles being tightened excited Kelly; she felt her sense of control slip away. She was heading into a state of helplessness; unable to move, and at the mercy of another.
As Miss Fox moved to Kelly’s feet, her arms were stretched out above her head, rendering her upper body immobile. Her soft, clean-shaved armpits were fully exposed, while the nerve endings of her ribcage and smooth tummy were being brought to the point where the slightest touch would have tickled and sent Kelly into a state of hysteria.
Miss Fox slipped off Kelly’s sandals as she began to secure her feet inside the cuffs. Kelly wiggled her toes as the air hit her bare feet and she lifted her head to gaze down towards her teacher. Miss Fox was methodically securing her feet; ensuring that movement would be severely restricted, and Kelly felt her legs tighten as the cuffs were buckled together. “You’re secured; at least, you won’t be able to move with any real ease” explained Miss Fox, with a brief tickle of Kelly’s soles as she stood up. Kelly squeaked as she felt the sharp touch of the nails on her sole. Her legs were now secured to the same level of tension as her arms. “Please don’t hurt me” whimpered Kelly pitifully. She knew that Miss Fox would never do so, but Kelly was into unknown realms; she needed reassurance. “You know I would never do that” said Miss Fox. Picking up a large pair of fabric scissors from a shelf on the wall, she continued. “I have to cut your clothes off; don’t worry, they’ll be replaced”. Knowing that she couldn’t prevent it, Kelly merely nodded.
Carefully, Miss Fox began to snip through Kelly’s top. She sliced through the middle of the material and eventually, the floral garment fell open around Kelly, exposing her rising and falling chest, and her 36D breasts, which were hidden only by a lace-trimmed black bra. Miss Fox removed the vest and dropped it into the floor before beginning to snip Kelly’s skirt. As she did so, Kelly began to experience a new feeling. As wrong as she knew it SHOULD have felt, Kelly was finding erotic feelings in her current situation; in a small corner of her mind, she relished the lack of control, the inability to move. Her own art teacher was removing her clothes, and would soon be using her body as a canvas. Kelly’s open-mindedness had never led her into this kind of scenario before, but what she didn’t know excited her. As Miss Fox removed her skirt, Kelly realised that she was truly at someone else’s mercy. Miss Fox, with erotic thoughts of her own swirling inside her head. stood up and took several steps back as she admired the sight before her. Kelly’s lean, sculpted body lay prone, at the mercy of the teacher. Her skin, tanned and smooth, was perfect. Kelly’s cute black bra was complimented by a lacy black thong. She was heaven-sent, and even Miss Fox, an attractive and desirable brunette, was captivated by the beauty and poise of what lay before her.
“H-how long is this going to be happening for?” asked Kelly cautiously, as Miss Fox arranged two palettes, and a variety of brushes, large and small, on a small table next to the x-frame. “Art is only completed when total satisfaction is reached” she replied softly. Kelly knew; she wouldn’t end until her own high standards had been reached, which for Miss Fox, was an often futile exercise. The teacher moved to the foot of the frame where Kelly's feet lay still.
Silence enveloped the room for ten seconds as Miss Fox cast her eye over Kelly’s smooth feet. “Your feet are so cute” commented Miss Fox, as she dipped the wispy bristles of the first brush into a light-blue shade of watercolour paint. “I’m going to paint them!” she continued enthusiastically. Kelly shivered and wiggled her toes; whether she would be able to tolerate this, she didn’t know. As the brush settled onto her sole, the ticklish sensation, akin to an electric shock, zipped through Kelly’s body. Her leg muscles tensed and an unwilling smile formed on her face. Miss Fox began to guide the brush up and down Kelly’s left sole, its bristles took to the smooth surface perfectly, and a blue trail of followed behind. Kelly's velvet-soft soles provided no resistance to the brush; it was a battle that she knew could not be won.“Teehehehenooooo!!!” squealed Kelly as her attempts to stem the laughter failed and her ticklishness betrayed her. “Notthahahat!!! Nothahaha my feeethehehehe!!!”
At the foot of the frame, Miss Fox had found her groove; the brush followed no set path, it moved randomly, probing and teasing, swirling and gliding across every square inch of Kelly’s ticklish sole. Her toes flexed frantically, taking on a life of their own as they tried to prevent the sensations registering. Miss Fox, so skilled and cunning, counteracted the movement by applying a purple shade to the second brush and worming the bristles in between Kelly’s toes, probing underneath their delicate base and to the ticklish surface in between each toe. "You can wiggle these little toes all day, my darling" cooed Miss Fox, noticing Kelly's frantic movements. "They're not going to get away from my brush!!" Miss Fox proceeded to bend Kelly's toes back, tightening the skin on her sole and preventing any movement. She then began to flick the brush across Kelly's immobile toes expertly.
Miss Fox's teasing increased Kelly's agony; the feeling of not being able to prevent the tickling was simply the purest torture. Deep inside her mind's eye, Kelly could not escape the image of her feet being tickled. She could picture the brushes stimulating her soles and toes in tandem, and the wide, mischievous smile on Miss Fox's face as she relished the level of domination she had now reached. Kelly begged and pleaded with every ticklish touch as tears of laughter began to slide down her cheeks, but no respite was granted, and Miss Fox responded with mock-annoyance. "If you don't keep these feet still, Kelly, I'll tickle them even harder and make you laugh even louder!" she chuckled, flicking the brush quickly from Kelly's heel to the middle of her sole while softly stroking the second brush in the sensitive area underneath her second toe. Kelly knew she was caught; the tickling of her feet prevented her from holding them still, but with every toe wiggle, with every jerk of her feet, Miss Fox would tickle in a devilish fashion. Every so often, Kelly would flex her toes to try and block the sensations; this would be met by the brush's bristles flicking across her tender digits, which caused them to splay outwards wildly. "You really don't like having these toes tickled, do you?" said Miss Fox, lightly brushing up and down the stems of the toes and swirling the brush in circles on their pads. "NOOOOO!!! I HAHAHAHATTEEEE IT!!!!!" screamed Kelly emphatically. "I wish I had some stocks in the room" muttered Miss Fox. "I'd love to tie these toes back and stretch your soles fully. Imagine how well I could paint on them!". Kelly shuddered as she heard the words; this was torturous enough for her. Without warning, Miss Fox suddenly changed her tactics. While continuing to tickle Kelly's left foot with the blue brush, she switched the second brush to Kelly's right foot, and began to paint both soles at the same time with slow, alternating up-and-down strokes. Kelly bucked, thrashed, and shook with laughter as she felt the tickling sensations, now doubled, shooting through her.
With both of her feet now being stimulated, Kelly’s mouth fell open and giggles, snorts, and occasional pleading, filled the room. “What’s the matter, Kelly?” mocked Miss Fox. “I’m making your feet look pretty!!!”. Kelly clenched her teeth as spasms of ticklishness erupted inside her; why Miss Fox was torturing her to her limits, she did not know. All Kelly knew was the soft touch of the brush, cruelly zipping across her soles and in between her ticklish toes. “Ten toes; ten ticklish toes, just waiting for me!!” Miss Fox was filled with delight; her desire to control movement was being fulfilled. She was showing no mercy. In between brush strokes, Miss Fox would utilise her manicured nails for variety, raking and revving them mercilessly across Kelly's paint-streaked feet. Miss Fox's nails were hard and sharp, and she knew exactly how to exploit the ticklish spots as she drew wild patterns on Kelly’s soles. As Kelly continued to convulse with laughter, Miss Fox's often-wicked nature got the better of her once more. Dipping her fingers into the various shades of oil-paint that filled the second palette, she began to scribble them across Kelly's soles at lightning-speed. "It's time for some finger painting!!" she sang. Kelly screamed as she felt the speed of the tickling increase. "AAAAAANOOOOOHAHAHAHAHA!" she laughed while shaking her head and her feet desperately. It was as though Miss Fox was tickling Kelly's feet in a fast-forward motion; the speed of her fingers on the soles and underneath Kelly's toes was vicious, and there was simply no escape for the student. Kelly's feet were now almost completely covered with paint, and still Miss Fox showed absolutely no sign that she was prepared to relent. "I'm going to stimulate these feet and make you laugh so much, darling" stated Miss Fox as she varied her speed from slow to fast, and fast to slow.
Kelly could fight no more; the frantic wiggling of her toes had been reduced to pitiful flailing, and her paint-covered soles were now beyond sensitive. A light sheen of sweat covered Kelly’s upper body. She found herself caught cruelly between two feelings; pleasure and torment were fighting for supremacy inside her brain, and the deathly mix was more than Kelly could bear. “OOOOHHHGAAAAD!” screamed the tied student as Miss Fox removed two felt pens from her shirt pocket and began to draw large circles on her soft soles with their cruel, hard tips. "I'm drawing on your feeeeeet!!!!" mocked Miss Fox as the pens continued their ticklish work. Kelly clenched and unclenched her hands and strained against the strong cuffs. Escape was at the forefront of her mind.
“You’re enjoying this!” laughed Miss Fox, idly scribbling her fingernails on the pads of Kelly’s big toes. “You’re enjoying me tickling and drawing on these cute little feet!”. Miss Fox’s voice, along with the sound of her own laughter, began to blend together into one overwhelming sound. Kelly could hear heartbeat pounding as her torment continued. Kelly would have given anything to escape the agony, but she had been tied well and the cuffs held firm. Time no longer mattered; the tickling felt as though it had no end. Fighting and squirming were hopeless tactics; Kelly’s strength had been eroded by the brushes, the pens, and Miss Fox’s tickling fingers. Kelly prayed, silently, for an ending.
“Kelly, honey” said Miss Fox quietly. Kelly’s eyelids twitched and a low moan escaped her lips. Picking up one of the brushes, Miss Fox swirled it inside Kelly’s belly button. Kelly squealed and her eyes opened wide. “Nohehehehe!” she squeaked. Miss Fox smiled and spun the paintbrush between her fingers. “You’re such a ticklish girl” she said, gazing down at Kelly, who was now a pitiful sight to behold. Her soles and toes twitched and pulsed with ticklishness, while her body ached from the desperate struggle she had put up.
Silently, Kelly observed as Miss Fox slowly walked towards the head frame. After a visit to the office's sink, in her hand she now carried two clean brushes. “Are you OK?” enquired Miss Fox as she picked up the paint tray. “N-no!” replied Kelly. “Please stop now; it tickles so much when you use the brushes”. “You’re learning, though” said Miss Fox. “You’re learning about body painting!” “But I’m too ticklish; I can’t take it!” pleaded Kelly. “Darling, it’ll be finished eventually. You’ll learn much from this, I promise” Miss Fox, now carrying two brushes and a tray of thick, rich oil paints, took up a new position, straddling Kelly's torso.
Holding the palette in her left hand, the teacher dipped the thin, wiry bristles into the small circle of red paint. Kelly watched her do this, and her muscles tensed as the brush, its bristles now a deep red, made its way towards her quivering torso. With the delicate precision of a skilled painter, Miss Fox guided the brush onto the soft, exposed region of skin under her right arm. Kelly gasped in shock as she felt the brush touching her skin, and fought to suppress a squeak of laughter by biting her lip. Miss Fox began to slowly swirl the brush in a spiral pattern across the hollow of Kelly’s underarm. Her skin, flawless and clean, was purer than any canvas, and Miss Fox began to immerse herself in the tickling once more. However ticklish Kelly's feet were, it paled into insignificance when compared to her underarms, and as the brush began to dance a ticklish path across her skin, the laughter burst from Kelly before she had a chance to prevent it.
“Let me tickle you, let me paint you” she cooed, as the brush swirled and swooped with grace across the ticklish skin. Kelly’s brain fought for control; she tried to overcome the sensations, but they were overwhelmingly powerful, and no matter how much she clenched her teeth or tensed her muscles, the laughter continued to flow. “OHHHHHHAHAHAHAHA!” she screamed as the nerve endings were stimulated. “T-TICCCCKLEEESSHAHAHAHAHA!!”. Miss Fox was captivated by Kelly’s ticklishness and beauty, and her skilled hand controlled the brush expertly as it probed and tickled. “You’re a ticklish little girl, Kelly” she teased as she exchanged red for blue before continuing. “I love ticklish armpits; soft and so sensitive to my brush”. Kelly's armpits were as soft as her feet, with no impurities. The brush flicked wickedly from left to right, and up and down with no mercy. Kelly did not know how many bristles were tickling her, but she swore that she could feel every single one. "Tickle tickle" whispered Miss Fox, her eyes flashing as she skilfully dictated the movement of the brush. "I could tickle these armpits until night falls.....maybe I will!" Kelly whimpered as she heard her teacher's words; surely the torment would end long before that time. Kelly did not dwell on the possibility however; Miss Fox had discovered a sensitive spot located in the centre of the deepest section of Kelly's underarm and was now furiously running the brush in a circular pattern across the skin.
“AAAAHAHAHAHA!!” Kelly screamed; her chest was heaving and her eyes were closed tight as the brush exposed her ticklish areas cruelly. Noticing a window of opportunity to increase Kelly’s torture, Miss Fox loaded the second brush with a deep green paint, and climbed over the x-frame, straddling Kelly’s tummy and within easy reach of both of her underarms. Kelly gasped as she saw her teacher gazing down at her. “What are you-" Kelly broke off as she noticed the two brushes. “Not that, anything but that” she whispered. “Be quiet, my girl, or I'll use my fingers to tickle your underarms instead; you'd hate to feel my nails raking the ticklish flesh” said Miss Fox as she lowered the two brushes into Kelly’s underarms and began to paint with quick, efficient strokes. Kelly exploded into a maelstrom of desperate laughter; her underarms were unbearably ticklish, and now they were being tormented in tandem. The restraints were adding to the unbearable sensations; Kelly's skin had been stretched taut, and the all friction had been eliminated.
Kelly squirmed as much as the cuffs would allow and begged for the torment to cease, but her appeals were ignored. “You’re my canvas, my ticklish canvas” said Miss Fox as she continued the assault. Kelly had her eyes shut tight; she did not want to be witness to her own ticklish torment, but every so often, she caught a glimpse of the gleeful smile of Miss Fox’s face as she relished every second of the situation. Streaks of paint covered Kelly’s underarms, her body was shaking as the sensations seeped into her brain, and her brown hair was being whipped uncontrollably as she shook her head. Tears leaked out of her eyes and rolled down her flushed cheeks. Placing the palette and brushes on Kelly’s tummy, Miss Fox began to rake her fingernails across Kelly’s underarms. "How about my fingernails on your tummy? Do you like that, Kelly?" enquired the teacher. "How about my finger inside your ticklish belly button?" A spasm of ticklishness ripped through Kelly, and her laughter became guttural and maniacal; if the soft bristles of the brush were torturous enough, Miss Fox’s fingernails were almost too much to bear. “PLEEEEEAAAASSSEHAHAHAHAHA” pleaded Kelly breathlessly. “Ssssh, my ticklish girl” replied Miss Fox quietly. “Let me tickle you”. Kelly could do nothing to prevent it as her underarms were tormented. With every touch, the soft skin of Kelly’s underarms betrayed her, and with every second that passed, her resistance began to weaken. It was a torturous dilemma; Kelly could not bear the tickling, and yet, deep inside her brain, erotic thoughts were spiralling uncontrollably. Mixed in among her hysterical laughter, the occasional slow moan would appear, signalling her unwilling secret enjoyment of what was happening to her.
Meanwhile, Miss Fox had gotten fully into her stride. She had quickly taken note of the sensitive nature of Kelly’s upper body, and ensured that they were focused on by both her fingernails and the paintbrushes. She employed a varied approach; occasionally using her fingers on one underarm and a paintbrush on the other, and she even switched to Kelly’s tummy, applying delicate brush strokes around her bully button, to keep the student on the edge. Kelly’s stomach was flat and toned; its nerve endings were many, and the light strokes of the brush drew strong reactions from her. “I think Kelly’s tummy and underarms like being painted!!” teased the teacher. “But do they like being drawn on?” Kelly’s mind was so scrambled from the tickling, that her teacher’s words barely registered; it was only when she saw Miss Fox removing the felt pen lids once more, that she quickly regained her focus. “Please, don’t use those” she gasped. “I’ll lose my mind if you tickle me again”. Kelly felt a cold surge run through her as she imagined the ruthless tips of the felt pens grazing against her flesh; it was beginning to strike undiluted fear into her.
Chuckling, Miss Fox removed the pen tops and lowered the yellow tips into the hollows of Kelly’s underarms. Kelly flinched as she felt the points make contact; she knew that this would be twice as agonising. “Let’s see if these underarms like to be drawn on” said Miss Fox, as she began to streak yellow lines across the flawless skin. Kelly exploded with laughter and shook her whole body frantically. “NOOOOOHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” was all she could manage to scream; words were now beyond her, and her breath came in short gasps. “Tickle tickle!” sang Miss Fox happily. “Poor little Kelly is ticklish on her pits!! Do you like my pens?” she mocked. “N-NOOO!” spluttered Kelly. “Aww, honey, but I’m making you so colourful and cute!!” The pens were effective in eliciting reactions from Kelly. Her underarms were deathly ticklish, and Miss Fox took great pleasure in tormenting her student’s helpless body. The x-frame and cuffs stood firm against Kelly's movement as the student strained for the slightest relief. Miss Fox, her own cheeks now slightly red, also applied the pens to Kelly’s tummy and ribcage; drawing circles around Kelly's belly button and tracing spiral patterns across her sensitive ribs.
After fifteen minutes of torment, and as Miss Fox’s ruthless tickling tools finally fell still, Kelly lay still, her brain scrambled and her body quivering, as she breathed heavily. The student was in a state of tickled shock; her paint and ink-streaked underarms and tummy were tingling and buzzing, her cheeks were crimson, and her hair covered her face. Miss Fox tenderly brushed the hair away from Kelly’s eyes and gazed down at her. “You’re learning an essential lesson, Kelly” said Miss Fox. “I’m teaching you that the human body can be used so effectively in art”. Kelly’s strength was drained, and she could only fashion a weak reply. “P-please stop now. I can’t take this” she whimpered while staring mournfully into her teacher’s eyes. “Not yet; not quite yet” replied Miss Fox. She placed the palette and brushes on the table, and picked up the fabric scissors once again. “W-what are you doing?” asked Kelly fearfully. “Your cute little breasts” replied Miss Fox simply. Before Kelly could protest, Miss Fox had sliced through her bra and slid the black garment out from under Kelly’s body.
As her pert, perfectly formed breasts were exposed, Kelly felt a wave of panic and fear surge through her. She was helpless, and her teacher had now exposed an area of her body that was sacred to her, but also deathly ticklish. She attempted to maintain her composure as Miss Fox’s eyes scanned her. Powerless to move and with seemingly no hope of Miss Fox relenting, Kelly attempted to see the logic in her teacher’s plan; the body painting was torturous, yet there was the chance of some new knowledge to be gained. Kelly repeated that thought silently as Miss Fox loaded the stiff-bristled brush with a dark green paint. “You’re so beautiful; perfect for me to paint on” said the teacher as she straddled the frame once more. Kelly knew it; her breasts were going to be painted and nothing would prevent it from happening; mercy was not on Miss Fox’s agenda.
“These breasts look so ticklish!” giggled Miss Fox, feeling slightly turned on by the situation. “Let’s see……” The teacher placed the brush onto Kelly’s left breast and slowly began to paint in a circular motion. The brush encircled the nipple; a particularly sensitive area, and Kelly quickly dissolved into laughter. “Ohhhnoooohehehehe” she moaned as the sensations filled her body once again. Her toes flexed and her body tensed. “Ticklish little breasts! Kelly has ticklish little breasts” teased Miss Fox as she allowed the brush to glide across the skin, its bristles leaving a swirling pattern of green on Kelly’s tanned skin. The sensations, though torturous, were turning Kelly on, somewhat unwillingly. She WANTED to hate the feel of the brush as it tickled her breast, but the primitive pleasure she felt was being balanced by the ticklish sensations; it was too much. “AAAAAHAHAHAHAHA” screamed Kelly as the bristles grazed against her sensitive nipple. “NOTTTHERE HEHEHEHEHE”. “Not your breasts?” mocked Miss Fox cruelly. “But darling, they’re so cute and ticklish!”
Continuing to circle the brush across Kelly’s left breast, Miss Fox again dipped her fingers into the paint, and began to use her fingernails to tickle Kelly's right breast. She began by encircling her fingers around Kelly's sensitive nipple, before expanding and raking her fingers in circles across the entire circumference of Kelly's breast. Kelly was not allowed to maintain her balance; Miss Fox altered her techniques without warning, from one finger stroking gently to five fingers raking and probing across the skin. Kelly squirmed what little she could and begged when she caught enough breath to do so, but the smile on Miss Fox’s face told its own story. The teacher was captivated by the beauty and ticklishness of her student; her dream was coming true. “Tickle tickle” cooed the teacher as she began to use one brush on each breast. "Your breasts are perfect for finger-painting!".
Kelly’s back arched and she groaned desperately as both breasts were stimulated by the bristles; the cuffs prevented any real movement, but Kelly strained against the bonds as she tried to overcome the sensations. “OOHH GOOODDDDDD!!!!” she screamed. Kelly had kept her ticklishness quiet for many years, and yet here, her teacher had exploited her sensitive areas effortlessly. Despite Miss Fox’s talents, her technique was purposely haphazard; she was not attempting to paint beautifully, only to tease and tickle Kelly’s skin. She tickled every inch of Kelly’s breasts without missing the tiniest area. Kelly’s laughter was under Miss Fox’s control, from frantic screams as the teacher raked her nails up and down her smooth skin, to soft giggles as one finger was used to encircle her nipples. Miss Fox threw Kelly regularly by ceasing the tickling and slowly rubbing Kelly's breasts with her hands, massaging the sensitive skin and allowing Kelly to assume the tickling had ended; this would last for a brief period before the tickling would begin once more. The patterns covering Kelly’s ticklish breasts were random, but the sensations were not. Occasionally, Miss Fox would paint dots onto the skin with sharp applications of the brush,. The rapid-fire sensations threw Kelly even more, and as her tears of laughter continued to slide down her aching cheeks, she prayed that her sanity would not desert her. “Such ticklish little breasts, perfect for my fingers to stimulate” said Miss Fox as she playfully buzzed her nails across Kelly’s nipples, which were now as hard as granite and painfully sensitive. Occasionally, through her blurred vision, she caught a glimpse of her teacher straddling her, her face gleeful, as she tickled the beautiful girl lying below her. Feelings of pleasure, fear, and a secret enjoyment were enveloping Kelly’s brain; she wished the torture would stop, but hoped that it would continue.
“My, my Kelly, you’re so ticklish” said Miss Fox as she slowly brought the paintbrush to a standstill. Kelly began to cough and splutter; her energy had been drained and she felt weak. Her breasts, underarms and torso were covered in paint and her nipples felt hyper-sensitive due to their stimulation. Her hair was ruffled and her cheek muscles ached. Even though her feet were not being tickled, Kelly could still feel faint ticklish sensations dancing across her soles. Kelly slowly turned her head and saw Miss Fox standing by the sink, rinsing the paint residue from the two brushes. “P-p-please stop now” moaned Kelly in barely a whisper. “I can’t take any more”. “You can. I assure, I’m not finished quite yet”. Kelly shuddered at the thought of what could lie ahead.
Miss Fox stood silently, examining the sight that lay before her. “You’re covered with paint, honey” began the teacher. “And you can’t leave if you’re not clean!” Kelly lifted her head slightly and gazed down at her torso, which indeed, was now a legacy of Miss Fox’s skilled hands. “L-let me go, I beg you” pleased Kelly, her voice slightly hoarse. “Not without getting you clean, first” replied Miss Fox. Kelly wondered what Miss Fox was now planning; how would she possibly clean her while she remained bound to the table? Walking slowly over to a large cupboard mounted on the wall, Miss Fox turned to face her student. Her eyes flashing and a smile of excitement on her lips, it was apparent that another plan was beginning to take shape in her mind. “I’ve got lots of nice things in this cupboard to clean you with” she said eagerly. “Let me see what I can use”. Shaking her red hair, Miss Fox began to remove various items from the cupboard.
Kelly whimpered and dropped her head. She had assumed that it was over, and that Miss Fox’s lesson, so torturous in nature, had ended. Her endurance was finite, and the thought of her body being cleaned in as torturous a fashion as she had been painted, frightened Kelly. The room was now silent, but Kelly knew that soon, her teacher would begin to speak. Frustratingly for Kelly, her plans, for the moment, remained secretive, unknown, and timeless.
Sequel to be posted soon........
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