wrestlingclown
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~My wife and I collaborated on this story. She wrote the rough draft, and I polished it.~
I founded Syntec Integrated Systems and became one of the richest businesswoman in the world by the time I was 30. I like being a powerful woman and in complete control of my life. The same is true when it comes to sex. I like to take charge and boss men around. I like to enslave my boytoys. At first I would indulge my desires by hiring gigolos. I have a peculiar fetish in that I get aroused by tickle torturing my lovers. I made many a gigolo plead for mercy while under the duress of my relentless fingernails.
When I reached the age of 30, I decided it was time for me to get married. I knew I needed to find a man who was compatible with my desires, someone who shared my fetish but in the reversed role. Over 200 computer geeks, all male, work for my company. Through supervisors, I let it be known that it was alright for them to look at internet porn while at work. Unknown to anyone but myself, I had the ability to spy on websites my employees surfed. I noticed that 1 employee in particular obsessively liked to look at videos of women tickling men. I found my man and sprung the trap.
His name was Mark, and I ordered him to work on a project with me. I had his cubicle moved across the hall from my office. It was a pathetic little space compared to my grand plush office. I took my time making him work overtime for 2 months straight without a day off and sweetly asking him to redo hours of tedious work. I knew this frustrated him. It amused me to boss him around. It also amused me to almost catch him looking at internet porn on his breaks. By spying on his computer with mine, I knew exactly when he was viewing tickling videos, and I made it a point of interupting him at what I believed was the most exciting part. I always barely gave him enough time to click away from the site.
I wore professional yet provocative clothing to show off my perfect 36-24-36 body. Some days I showed just cleavage, other days a little pantyhosed leg, and still other days I donned tight dresses that complimented my backside. I knew I drive him crazy and the though of him masturbating to fantasies of me was gratifying.
When he finished the project, I publicly praised him and privately promised a reward. I offered him a choice: a raise or a weekend at my mansion located in a remote mountain wilderness. He chose the latter.
That weekend, my personal pilot flew us via helicopter to my 109 room mansion in the middle of nowhere. We made love for the first time there, but I hesitated to reveal my fetish, not wanting to scare him away. It was too soon.
I whisked him away every weekend for 8 weeks before I took him to my special room. it was on the lower level of the mansion, past the indoor swimming pool and the sauna, through the changing room. I led him there by the hand, telling him I had a secret to share with him. I opened the soundproof door to my tickle chamber, flipped on the ligh, and apprehensively watched the look on his face as he saw the various stocks, the tickle lounge chair, the benches with metal manacles, the mirrors on all 4 walls, and a dresser topped with all sorts of tickling instruments and lotions.
His whole body literally shook.
I told him of my special needs. To feel truly satisfied, I had to see my lover helpless and laughing. I admitted that I was a tickling expert but that I was strictly a tickler. I needed a man who was willing to endure prolonged sessions of expert tickling without expecting any measure of revenge for I did not fancy getting tickled. I gave him the option of getting out of our relationship, if this wasn't his cup of tea. I told him he had til the next weekend to decide. He was speechless and could barely keep from shaking even after the initial shock.
On the helicopter ride back to civilization, I cuddled him in the backseat and for the first time gave him a little tickle on his neck just to test his reaction. He smiled and his manhood hardened. I gave him another little neck tickle and he flinched and held my hand, stopping my probe. I whispered in his ear but the noise of the helicopter drowned out my comment. I mouthed the words "next weekend, I'm warning you," while I made a tickling motion with my fingers.
*****
I walked to his cubicle on the next Friday. I wore a pink suit and heavier makeup than I usually used.
"Do you dare enter my tickle chamber this weekend?" I asked confidently.
He gulped and said, "yes."
****
On the way to the chamber, I told him about 2 special members of my staff besides the maids, the butler, and the chef. They were my personal body guards--2 female kickboxers. Their sole purpose was to prevent any man from turning the tables on me. They watched the chamber from a security camera in an adjacent room and would rush to my defense if need be. (On one occasion they subdued a gigolo who attempted to trap me in my own tickle lounge chair. They beat the tar out of him.)
I closed the sound proof door behind me and ordered Mark to disrobe and sit in the tickle chair--a specially made chaise lounge. I attached leather straps to his wrists and raised them over his head and attached the other end of the straps to metal bars built on the back of the chair. This exposed his underarms. I then closed the stocks over his ankles. His penis stood.
Mark admitted to being nervous and "so excited."
"You should be nervous. You are a novice to this and unaware of your limits. I am an expert."
I undressed in front of him, showing my beautiful nude body, an object he wouldn't be able to touch until I let him. I walked toward the dresser where I kept all of my devilish tickling instruments. I looked in the mirror and saw him staring at my jiggling ass cheeks. I grabbed the feather boa, turned around, and advanced toward him. He admired my large breasts as they bounced lightly. I walked around him, dragging the feather boa over his body.
"Does that tickle?" I asked.
"A little.'
I dragged the feather boa over his legs and crotch. I worried that he possibly wasn't ticklish. That would ruin everything.
"Are you ticklish?" I asked and dragged the feather boa over his neck and shoulders.
"I don't know."
"Don't lie to me. Everyone knows whether they are ticklish. Hasn't anyone ever tickled you?"
"Yeah, when I was a kid."
"And did you laugh?"
"Yeah, but that was a long time ago."
I dropped the feather boa and walked back to the dresser. I brought the bottle of massage oil back with me and suddenly applied it to his feet. He made a comical high pitched sound...a whine almost. He squirmed a little.
"This will make your feet more sensitive," I told him.
I put the lotion bottle on the floor and tickled both of his feet at the same time. He thrashed rather frantically. Much to my relief, I saw he was laughing silently. He was ticklish.
"Does this tickle?" I asked, knowing that it did. I just wanted him to admit it, so he would feel humiliated.
"MMHMM," he mumbled.
"Well answer me."
"Yeah!" he exclaimed between gritted teeth.
"I'm going to tickle your feet til you can't stand it," I said in a sultry teasing voice.
I kept tickling his feet til he uttered "quit."
"I could keep tickling your feet. I may come back to them," I said as I picked up the feather boa and lightly began draping it over his body again while walking around him. I wrapped it around his neck as if strangling him, tightening it slightly then loosening it, then using the feathers to tickle his neck. He shrugged in a futile effort to stop the feathers.
I stood behind him, tickling his neck with the feathers of the boa so persistently that he began to smile. I could tell he was holding in his laughter. I left the feather boa wrapped around his neck and quickly tickled his underarms. He burst out laughing loudly. I quickly tickled his sides back and forth from his ribs to his underarms. I was in complete control, making him laugh and he could do nothing to stop me--just how we both liked it.
I put my hands down his back and used my fingernails to tickle his cute butt and manly strong upper back. This caused him to arch his back forward and elicited another burst of loud laughter. I stopped to let him rest and walked in front of him.
"I'm going to gitchy, gitchy, goo," I said in a loud girly voice, unable to hide my hillbilly roots.
I sat on his lap, my hip resting on his erection, and I tickled his legs and lower belly. I wanted to keep teasing him but could no longer hold myself back. I rode him, while tickling him off and on. I heard him make comical noises, pitiful whines, embarrassed giggles, and frustrated groans. He came fast and I had to finger myself to reach orgasm.
I sat on his hip, cuddling him...tickling his neck. His penis came back to life.
"Amazon!" he exclaimed. The safe word. I freed him and we went upstairs and made love all night.
I founded Syntec Integrated Systems and became one of the richest businesswoman in the world by the time I was 30. I like being a powerful woman and in complete control of my life. The same is true when it comes to sex. I like to take charge and boss men around. I like to enslave my boytoys. At first I would indulge my desires by hiring gigolos. I have a peculiar fetish in that I get aroused by tickle torturing my lovers. I made many a gigolo plead for mercy while under the duress of my relentless fingernails.
When I reached the age of 30, I decided it was time for me to get married. I knew I needed to find a man who was compatible with my desires, someone who shared my fetish but in the reversed role. Over 200 computer geeks, all male, work for my company. Through supervisors, I let it be known that it was alright for them to look at internet porn while at work. Unknown to anyone but myself, I had the ability to spy on websites my employees surfed. I noticed that 1 employee in particular obsessively liked to look at videos of women tickling men. I found my man and sprung the trap.
His name was Mark, and I ordered him to work on a project with me. I had his cubicle moved across the hall from my office. It was a pathetic little space compared to my grand plush office. I took my time making him work overtime for 2 months straight without a day off and sweetly asking him to redo hours of tedious work. I knew this frustrated him. It amused me to boss him around. It also amused me to almost catch him looking at internet porn on his breaks. By spying on his computer with mine, I knew exactly when he was viewing tickling videos, and I made it a point of interupting him at what I believed was the most exciting part. I always barely gave him enough time to click away from the site.
I wore professional yet provocative clothing to show off my perfect 36-24-36 body. Some days I showed just cleavage, other days a little pantyhosed leg, and still other days I donned tight dresses that complimented my backside. I knew I drive him crazy and the though of him masturbating to fantasies of me was gratifying.
When he finished the project, I publicly praised him and privately promised a reward. I offered him a choice: a raise or a weekend at my mansion located in a remote mountain wilderness. He chose the latter.
That weekend, my personal pilot flew us via helicopter to my 109 room mansion in the middle of nowhere. We made love for the first time there, but I hesitated to reveal my fetish, not wanting to scare him away. It was too soon.
I whisked him away every weekend for 8 weeks before I took him to my special room. it was on the lower level of the mansion, past the indoor swimming pool and the sauna, through the changing room. I led him there by the hand, telling him I had a secret to share with him. I opened the soundproof door to my tickle chamber, flipped on the ligh, and apprehensively watched the look on his face as he saw the various stocks, the tickle lounge chair, the benches with metal manacles, the mirrors on all 4 walls, and a dresser topped with all sorts of tickling instruments and lotions.
His whole body literally shook.
I told him of my special needs. To feel truly satisfied, I had to see my lover helpless and laughing. I admitted that I was a tickling expert but that I was strictly a tickler. I needed a man who was willing to endure prolonged sessions of expert tickling without expecting any measure of revenge for I did not fancy getting tickled. I gave him the option of getting out of our relationship, if this wasn't his cup of tea. I told him he had til the next weekend to decide. He was speechless and could barely keep from shaking even after the initial shock.
On the helicopter ride back to civilization, I cuddled him in the backseat and for the first time gave him a little tickle on his neck just to test his reaction. He smiled and his manhood hardened. I gave him another little neck tickle and he flinched and held my hand, stopping my probe. I whispered in his ear but the noise of the helicopter drowned out my comment. I mouthed the words "next weekend, I'm warning you," while I made a tickling motion with my fingers.
*****
I walked to his cubicle on the next Friday. I wore a pink suit and heavier makeup than I usually used.
"Do you dare enter my tickle chamber this weekend?" I asked confidently.
He gulped and said, "yes."
****
On the way to the chamber, I told him about 2 special members of my staff besides the maids, the butler, and the chef. They were my personal body guards--2 female kickboxers. Their sole purpose was to prevent any man from turning the tables on me. They watched the chamber from a security camera in an adjacent room and would rush to my defense if need be. (On one occasion they subdued a gigolo who attempted to trap me in my own tickle lounge chair. They beat the tar out of him.)
I closed the sound proof door behind me and ordered Mark to disrobe and sit in the tickle chair--a specially made chaise lounge. I attached leather straps to his wrists and raised them over his head and attached the other end of the straps to metal bars built on the back of the chair. This exposed his underarms. I then closed the stocks over his ankles. His penis stood.
Mark admitted to being nervous and "so excited."
"You should be nervous. You are a novice to this and unaware of your limits. I am an expert."
I undressed in front of him, showing my beautiful nude body, an object he wouldn't be able to touch until I let him. I walked toward the dresser where I kept all of my devilish tickling instruments. I looked in the mirror and saw him staring at my jiggling ass cheeks. I grabbed the feather boa, turned around, and advanced toward him. He admired my large breasts as they bounced lightly. I walked around him, dragging the feather boa over his body.
"Does that tickle?" I asked.
"A little.'
I dragged the feather boa over his legs and crotch. I worried that he possibly wasn't ticklish. That would ruin everything.
"Are you ticklish?" I asked and dragged the feather boa over his neck and shoulders.
"I don't know."
"Don't lie to me. Everyone knows whether they are ticklish. Hasn't anyone ever tickled you?"
"Yeah, when I was a kid."
"And did you laugh?"
"Yeah, but that was a long time ago."
I dropped the feather boa and walked back to the dresser. I brought the bottle of massage oil back with me and suddenly applied it to his feet. He made a comical high pitched sound...a whine almost. He squirmed a little.
"This will make your feet more sensitive," I told him.
I put the lotion bottle on the floor and tickled both of his feet at the same time. He thrashed rather frantically. Much to my relief, I saw he was laughing silently. He was ticklish.
"Does this tickle?" I asked, knowing that it did. I just wanted him to admit it, so he would feel humiliated.
"MMHMM," he mumbled.
"Well answer me."
"Yeah!" he exclaimed between gritted teeth.
"I'm going to tickle your feet til you can't stand it," I said in a sultry teasing voice.
I kept tickling his feet til he uttered "quit."
"I could keep tickling your feet. I may come back to them," I said as I picked up the feather boa and lightly began draping it over his body again while walking around him. I wrapped it around his neck as if strangling him, tightening it slightly then loosening it, then using the feathers to tickle his neck. He shrugged in a futile effort to stop the feathers.
I stood behind him, tickling his neck with the feathers of the boa so persistently that he began to smile. I could tell he was holding in his laughter. I left the feather boa wrapped around his neck and quickly tickled his underarms. He burst out laughing loudly. I quickly tickled his sides back and forth from his ribs to his underarms. I was in complete control, making him laugh and he could do nothing to stop me--just how we both liked it.
I put my hands down his back and used my fingernails to tickle his cute butt and manly strong upper back. This caused him to arch his back forward and elicited another burst of loud laughter. I stopped to let him rest and walked in front of him.
"I'm going to gitchy, gitchy, goo," I said in a loud girly voice, unable to hide my hillbilly roots.
I sat on his lap, my hip resting on his erection, and I tickled his legs and lower belly. I wanted to keep teasing him but could no longer hold myself back. I rode him, while tickling him off and on. I heard him make comical noises, pitiful whines, embarrassed giggles, and frustrated groans. He came fast and I had to finger myself to reach orgasm.
I sat on his hip, cuddling him...tickling his neck. His penis came back to life.
"Amazon!" he exclaimed. The safe word. I freed him and we went upstairs and made love all night.
