TessaWanton
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It was mentioned to me that it's not just tickling but sometimes mixing it up with another kink too, i.e. spanking, which reminded me of this scene from Tickled Pink! I hope you enjoy!
Pulling a roll of packing tape out of his pocket, he waved it with a wry smile. “So you thought you were going to escape the tickle monster did you my dear? After all that teasing today? Don't think I didn't notice how you swayed your hips every time you left your desk, your sultry glances in my direction ... Well ... I think it's time you were taught a lesson as to who is in charge here." Mark ripped the end of the tape from the roll with his teeth and tightly bound my wrists. Struggling pathetically, I whimpered with fright, but my excitement was rising even as my thoughts raced, questioning what might come next. Lifting my arms above my head, he spun me around and pulled me back against his firm chest. I could feel his heart thudding strongly through my trembling body as he ducked his head to hook my arms around his neck. Standing to his full height pulled me up onto my tiptoes and stretched my torso, allowing his hands to roam freely over my now vulnerable body. Adrenaline surged through me like a river in full flood, making me shake like a leaf. Then he lifted my chin to observe our reflection in the window. I gaped at my face so obviously flushed with excitement, and Mark was looking directly into my eyes, that characteristic half smile of his in full force, causing my heart to hammer against my rib cage. He leaned and whispered in my ear, “You're mine now love, you will never be able to escape me, and ... if you want me ... I can be yours too ..." and he dropped his lips to my outstretched throat, nibbling so gently that my body shuddered with the caress. His lips and tongue worked their way over my sensitive neck, his hands brushing my hair out of the way so that when he kissed the sweet spot on the back of my neck I couldn't help but moan in pure surrender.
But I shouldn't have succumbed so quickly. He chuckled lightly and ran his hand along my left side from my waist up to my armpit. Wide-eyed, I shrieked with surprise and thrashed against him, but he held fast. He teased my ribcage on both sides, circling my abdomen and drumming patterns on my hypersensitive skin. Even through my clothes his touch had me aching with need. Throughout this ordeal he viewed me in the reflection of the window. I saw how he watched me, writhing and throwing my head back into his chest, my lips forming peals of laughter and gasping as he continued to torment me. Something I hadn't noticed last night, now as he ran his hands over me, I felt his erection pressing urgently into my spine. With each spasm of my body, I was unintentionally grinding myself against him, my forced writhing making me increasingly aware of his need for me. This knowledge excited me, and as the onslaught of his skilled hands caused yet more ripples of delight to flow through me, wetness pooled between the swollen folds of my sex. I had never wanted a man as much as I wanted Mark. My boss.
Continuing to tickle me expertly through my clothes, the added layers of material almost enhanced his spider-like touch. His strong fingers teased my breasts, gently caressing my firm mounds, my nipples hard at his touch - begging for attention through my sheer lace bra. Sensing their demand he took each nipple between a thumb and forefinger and rolled them luxuriantly making me gasp and push insistently against his hands. As he tugged and pulled, my eyes rolled at the strength of the feelings shooting through me. He leaned into me, his lips close to my ear once more, examining me through a thick forest of eyelashes. “Tickle tickle my naughty girl - I wonder how much more you can take ...” Chuckling wickedly, he circled my nipples with his fingers, dragging his nails lightly under the fullness of my breasts whilst watching my body contort in the glass.
As good as his word, Mark continued exploring each facet of my ticklishness with increasing glee. Every time I howled or laughed at his caress, his face would light up with desire, his growls coming in low rumbles thrumming through my body. I had no idea how much more I could bear when his incessant tickling eventually stopped, and his right arm snaked around my waist, holding my weight as I slumped exhausted against him. Drooping forward, gasping heavily, I tried to regain my composure. Whispering once more, Mark uttered “I wonder ... who exactly did you wear those sexy stockings for today?” Without warning, he nimbly unzipped my skirt, letting it drop unceremoniously to the floor. Then in one swift move he unhooked my arms from behind his head and sat down, pulling me face down over his lap. I squealed as he skittered his fingers over my full hips, rubbing his hands roughly across my buttocks. I heard him exhale slowly as he carefully examined my underwear, running a fingertip along the seams of my black satin French panties, picked out especially in the hope of a moment like this. And of course, those specially chosen seamed stockings.
He lightly drew his fingertips up the seam of my right leg, from mid-calf all the way to the top of my thigh. With his other hand he traced little patterns on the bare flesh of my left thigh above the top of my stocking; I wriggled, my legs kicking involuntarily as I squirmed to escape. Much to my surprise a light but firm slap landed on my left buttock. Squealing loudly, the stinging sensation spread as he spanked me over and over on the same spot, until eventually he progressed to my right cheek. My sensitive skin felt like one complete nerve ending as he continued to spank me and tickle me, sometimes simultaneously. Moaning and screaming, I was once again reduced to begging.
“Noooooooooooooooooo, not there!! Please, please mercy! Mark, please!” My appeals were incomprehensible as my staccato panting matched his dancing fingers. His hands alone had me writhing in pain and pleasure, and I could tell he was satisfied with my reactions; his manhood remained pressed firmly against the soft curve of my stomach. Noting his condition only added to the aching need in the pit of my stomach, he couldn't have missed how moist my inner thighs were; my musky scent even registered in my own nostrils.
Ceasing his tickling, Mark started rubbing my glowing globes. Firmly, kneading with his strong hands, he soothed them from his previous torment. Relaxing a little from his gentle caresses, I inhaled deeply, trying to gather myself. I felt light-headed and hoped that he had tortured me enough. I couldn't wait any more, I was desperate to feel him inside me; such a strange notion considering the agony he had inflicted on me. Shaking my head in disbelief, I really couldn't fathom how or why my body was reacting in such a way to something that should have had me squealing in terror. Yes, I may have cried in horror, but there was something else, gradually turning me into a beast driven purely by lust.
Slowly, he slid my soaked panties down my thighs to rest around my knees.
Crack!
The sound was so loud, and then the pain spread, like warm liquid oozing across my naked flesh. I giggled despite the stinging, the heat spreading across my skin was almost exactly like the trickling of my molten juices coating the insides of my thighs. I couldn’t deny it, I really was enjoying what he was doing to me. And I wanted more. Mark continued to rain blows on each sphere of my ass, the fire created by his hands increasing in direct parallel with the fire increasing within my sex. My breasts ached to be touched; my nipples screamed with the need to be savored by his lips. Unlike with the tickling, my screams were now less anguished, in fact I couldn’t quite believe the sounds of my pleasure, and it was pleasure. There was no denying that the noises I was making were sounds of desire - deep, guttural and yearning. I knew he was noting my reactions; he immediately increased the speed and strength of his blows.
The pauses between the series of spankings he dealt me increased, allowing time for him to gently rub my fiery flesh. This action was almost more maddening than the pain, as I hungered for more, but I also didn’t want him to remove his hands from my body. He beat rhythmic patterns on me, my whole being resonating in response to his desire. Eventually the gaps became so great between the strikes that I thought he might be stopping, yet I knew I was close to the limits of what I could endure. It was almost like my tolerance for pleasure and pain had increased to such levels that I needed this, I needed his guidance and I needed this bliss. At least five minutes must have passed before I noticed that he was no longer smacking me. A long sigh of satisfaction and contentment drifted from my lips, peace washing over me in soothing waves, despite my throbbing behind. Not to mention my throbbing sex.
But Mark was not finished with me, his fingers sweeping lightly over my legs, my waist, my hips, my ample buttocks. Writhing and wiggling and begging, laying there helpless on his lap I had never felt such release, such all-consuming pleasure as this man gave me. He made me feel desired, truly needed, sexy and ultimately feminine. I became lost in the sensations once more, my flame red curls bouncing across my cheeks with each body spasm sending shock waves through me, the ability this man had, just tickling me bordered on sadistic. The blood rushing in my head was deafening as my breathing became shallow, my pleas weaker - my laughter rising hysterically, short bursts in response to each tickle, which eventually became caresses, once again soothing my tortured skin. The tension in my body finally released as I lay limp across him like a rag doll, my body filmed with a shimmer of sweat.
Pulling a roll of packing tape out of his pocket, he waved it with a wry smile. “So you thought you were going to escape the tickle monster did you my dear? After all that teasing today? Don't think I didn't notice how you swayed your hips every time you left your desk, your sultry glances in my direction ... Well ... I think it's time you were taught a lesson as to who is in charge here." Mark ripped the end of the tape from the roll with his teeth and tightly bound my wrists. Struggling pathetically, I whimpered with fright, but my excitement was rising even as my thoughts raced, questioning what might come next. Lifting my arms above my head, he spun me around and pulled me back against his firm chest. I could feel his heart thudding strongly through my trembling body as he ducked his head to hook my arms around his neck. Standing to his full height pulled me up onto my tiptoes and stretched my torso, allowing his hands to roam freely over my now vulnerable body. Adrenaline surged through me like a river in full flood, making me shake like a leaf. Then he lifted my chin to observe our reflection in the window. I gaped at my face so obviously flushed with excitement, and Mark was looking directly into my eyes, that characteristic half smile of his in full force, causing my heart to hammer against my rib cage. He leaned and whispered in my ear, “You're mine now love, you will never be able to escape me, and ... if you want me ... I can be yours too ..." and he dropped his lips to my outstretched throat, nibbling so gently that my body shuddered with the caress. His lips and tongue worked their way over my sensitive neck, his hands brushing my hair out of the way so that when he kissed the sweet spot on the back of my neck I couldn't help but moan in pure surrender.
But I shouldn't have succumbed so quickly. He chuckled lightly and ran his hand along my left side from my waist up to my armpit. Wide-eyed, I shrieked with surprise and thrashed against him, but he held fast. He teased my ribcage on both sides, circling my abdomen and drumming patterns on my hypersensitive skin. Even through my clothes his touch had me aching with need. Throughout this ordeal he viewed me in the reflection of the window. I saw how he watched me, writhing and throwing my head back into his chest, my lips forming peals of laughter and gasping as he continued to torment me. Something I hadn't noticed last night, now as he ran his hands over me, I felt his erection pressing urgently into my spine. With each spasm of my body, I was unintentionally grinding myself against him, my forced writhing making me increasingly aware of his need for me. This knowledge excited me, and as the onslaught of his skilled hands caused yet more ripples of delight to flow through me, wetness pooled between the swollen folds of my sex. I had never wanted a man as much as I wanted Mark. My boss.
Continuing to tickle me expertly through my clothes, the added layers of material almost enhanced his spider-like touch. His strong fingers teased my breasts, gently caressing my firm mounds, my nipples hard at his touch - begging for attention through my sheer lace bra. Sensing their demand he took each nipple between a thumb and forefinger and rolled them luxuriantly making me gasp and push insistently against his hands. As he tugged and pulled, my eyes rolled at the strength of the feelings shooting through me. He leaned into me, his lips close to my ear once more, examining me through a thick forest of eyelashes. “Tickle tickle my naughty girl - I wonder how much more you can take ...” Chuckling wickedly, he circled my nipples with his fingers, dragging his nails lightly under the fullness of my breasts whilst watching my body contort in the glass.
As good as his word, Mark continued exploring each facet of my ticklishness with increasing glee. Every time I howled or laughed at his caress, his face would light up with desire, his growls coming in low rumbles thrumming through my body. I had no idea how much more I could bear when his incessant tickling eventually stopped, and his right arm snaked around my waist, holding my weight as I slumped exhausted against him. Drooping forward, gasping heavily, I tried to regain my composure. Whispering once more, Mark uttered “I wonder ... who exactly did you wear those sexy stockings for today?” Without warning, he nimbly unzipped my skirt, letting it drop unceremoniously to the floor. Then in one swift move he unhooked my arms from behind his head and sat down, pulling me face down over his lap. I squealed as he skittered his fingers over my full hips, rubbing his hands roughly across my buttocks. I heard him exhale slowly as he carefully examined my underwear, running a fingertip along the seams of my black satin French panties, picked out especially in the hope of a moment like this. And of course, those specially chosen seamed stockings.
He lightly drew his fingertips up the seam of my right leg, from mid-calf all the way to the top of my thigh. With his other hand he traced little patterns on the bare flesh of my left thigh above the top of my stocking; I wriggled, my legs kicking involuntarily as I squirmed to escape. Much to my surprise a light but firm slap landed on my left buttock. Squealing loudly, the stinging sensation spread as he spanked me over and over on the same spot, until eventually he progressed to my right cheek. My sensitive skin felt like one complete nerve ending as he continued to spank me and tickle me, sometimes simultaneously. Moaning and screaming, I was once again reduced to begging.
“Noooooooooooooooooo, not there!! Please, please mercy! Mark, please!” My appeals were incomprehensible as my staccato panting matched his dancing fingers. His hands alone had me writhing in pain and pleasure, and I could tell he was satisfied with my reactions; his manhood remained pressed firmly against the soft curve of my stomach. Noting his condition only added to the aching need in the pit of my stomach, he couldn't have missed how moist my inner thighs were; my musky scent even registered in my own nostrils.
Ceasing his tickling, Mark started rubbing my glowing globes. Firmly, kneading with his strong hands, he soothed them from his previous torment. Relaxing a little from his gentle caresses, I inhaled deeply, trying to gather myself. I felt light-headed and hoped that he had tortured me enough. I couldn't wait any more, I was desperate to feel him inside me; such a strange notion considering the agony he had inflicted on me. Shaking my head in disbelief, I really couldn't fathom how or why my body was reacting in such a way to something that should have had me squealing in terror. Yes, I may have cried in horror, but there was something else, gradually turning me into a beast driven purely by lust.
Slowly, he slid my soaked panties down my thighs to rest around my knees.
Crack!
The sound was so loud, and then the pain spread, like warm liquid oozing across my naked flesh. I giggled despite the stinging, the heat spreading across my skin was almost exactly like the trickling of my molten juices coating the insides of my thighs. I couldn’t deny it, I really was enjoying what he was doing to me. And I wanted more. Mark continued to rain blows on each sphere of my ass, the fire created by his hands increasing in direct parallel with the fire increasing within my sex. My breasts ached to be touched; my nipples screamed with the need to be savored by his lips. Unlike with the tickling, my screams were now less anguished, in fact I couldn’t quite believe the sounds of my pleasure, and it was pleasure. There was no denying that the noises I was making were sounds of desire - deep, guttural and yearning. I knew he was noting my reactions; he immediately increased the speed and strength of his blows.
The pauses between the series of spankings he dealt me increased, allowing time for him to gently rub my fiery flesh. This action was almost more maddening than the pain, as I hungered for more, but I also didn’t want him to remove his hands from my body. He beat rhythmic patterns on me, my whole being resonating in response to his desire. Eventually the gaps became so great between the strikes that I thought he might be stopping, yet I knew I was close to the limits of what I could endure. It was almost like my tolerance for pleasure and pain had increased to such levels that I needed this, I needed his guidance and I needed this bliss. At least five minutes must have passed before I noticed that he was no longer smacking me. A long sigh of satisfaction and contentment drifted from my lips, peace washing over me in soothing waves, despite my throbbing behind. Not to mention my throbbing sex.
But Mark was not finished with me, his fingers sweeping lightly over my legs, my waist, my hips, my ample buttocks. Writhing and wiggling and begging, laying there helpless on his lap I had never felt such release, such all-consuming pleasure as this man gave me. He made me feel desired, truly needed, sexy and ultimately feminine. I became lost in the sensations once more, my flame red curls bouncing across my cheeks with each body spasm sending shock waves through me, the ability this man had, just tickling me bordered on sadistic. The blood rushing in my head was deafening as my breathing became shallow, my pleas weaker - my laughter rising hysterically, short bursts in response to each tickle, which eventually became caresses, once again soothing my tortured skin. The tension in my body finally released as I lay limp across him like a rag doll, my body filmed with a shimmer of sweat.
