View Full Version : A present from mother to daughter Part 3, F/m. Very Adult.

08-01-2015, 10:42 PM
I ran through the forest, hidden by the inky black darkness of a cloudy night. Not only was there no moon or stars, I also couldn’t see any kind of light that might mark a nearby town or even a neighbor of the Weiss’s. How far out in the wilderness were we?

I had always been a city boy, having no wilderness skills to speak over. Also, I was hardly dressed for the great outdoors, wearing only a pair of pajama pants with no shirt. Mrs. Weiss and Gretchen had given me no other clothes. They had also left me barefoot. I hadn’t been too worried about the lack of warm clothing. At this time of year, the temperature at night would be uncomfortable but not dangerous. Running through the woods without shoes would have left my feet torn and bloody.

Luckily, before I left the Weiss house, I had found a pair of Gretchen’s pink flowery slippers. She must have taken them off just before her mother strapped her into the tickling rack. My feet were a bit larger than hers, but the slippers were soft and stretched enough so I could squeeze into them.

So I ran, shivering, ducking under branches and hoping I wouldn’t step on anything sharp enough to poke through the think soles of my slippers. Only my fear of Mrs. Weiss and the horrible fate that certainly awaited me if she ever found me kept me going.

Then came a noise, a sweet, sweet sound, off to my side. It called to me. My feet started moving in that direction before I was even aware of it. As I got closer, I could tell it was a song, but far more beautiful than any I’d ever heard, as if sung by an angel. I forgot about the cold and the danger and ran forward.

Yes, it was stupid. But…I…I couldn’t help myself.

I entered the clearing before I even noticed there was a break in the trees. Inside it was well lit, like noon, and as hot as a summer afternoon, though none of that had been apparent even a foot outside the glen. Not that I noticed that. The only thing I could see was the nude woman standing in the center.

She was simply gorgeous, with long, fiery red hair hanging down to the small of her back and pale, white skin with just a touch of pink. Her body, with full breasts and curvy hips was lush and inviting. But it was her eyes that drew me the most, a deep, sparkling green. I couldn’t look away from them; it was like I was drowning in twin, green seas.

I know. What was a beautiful naked woman doing singing in the forest? Sadly, my brain had stopped functioning, and not in the way when I see a bit of skin. I was mesmerized, caught in a spell. All words and social protocol vanished. Had I been on fire, I don’t think I would called out or turned away.

She beckoned me forward, and I came, taking her soft form in my arms, caressing her back, nuzzling her neck. She smelled…like spring, like the fresh rain, like honey, like add your adjective here. One of her hands caressed my manhood, bulging through the pajama bottoms. I moaned, deeply. If Gretchen hadn’t milked me so often, I think I would have thought my load there and then.

Believe it or not, I’m a shy guy. Had I actually walked in on a naked woman, I probably would have turned away, blushed bright red and begged her forgiveness. Now, I felt no embarrassment or even social awkwardness. All I knew was desire. I had to have her, needed her. Nothing else mattered. It was a hunger I’d never experienced before, way beyond mere horniness.

Somehow her nipple found its way into my mouth and I latched on and sucked. I don’t know if anything came out, but my body was filled with sweetness, delicious and pure. Had she stuck a knife between my ribs, I couldn’t have pulled away. All I wanted to do was hold her and keep kissing her breasts.

She moaned as well, arms circling around me. Her hands ran across my bare chest, up my sides, dragging her fingertips over skin starting to become slick with sweat.

It tickled like crazy.

“he ehehe e ehehehe dohohohohohohonnnttt e ehehehehehehe eeheheheh nnnrgrgrgrrg he ehehe e eheheh ppllll ehe ehehe eheh plleheeesseeeee hehehehehehehnngghghh ahahahahah dooonnnttt…”

The tickling somehow punched through the cloud over my brain. I squirmed in her arms.

“Ah, ve ‘ave a ticklish boy, da?” she spoke in a rich, Russian accent, “Vat can ve do about dat?” Her hands now started tickling on purpose, pinching my sides, and forcing my laughter louder and louder.

Just like every time I was ever tickled, I recoiled from the sensation. I absolutely hated the prickly, electric sensation that spread across my skin and up my spine. It was, as always, torture. Even more, however, I hated the way I was forced to laugh, sending out the false message that I was enjoying myself rather than suffering.

This time was worse. At least When Gretchen and Mrs. Weiss tickled me I could struggle, even if my efforts were futile. This time, however, I was so under the spell of the voluptuous redhead, I couldn’t even do that. My body twisted and turned, but I did not try to pull away. Even as she tormented me, I still wanted her. My arms wouldn’t…couldn’t release her, hands couldn’t stop roaming her soft, smooth skin. Her nipple slipped out of my hungry mouth, but I buried my face in her breast, breathing in her scent even deeper.

“mmmmmm ghhememmmmmmm ppeeessemmmmppp nnghrhrhrhrhrhr mmeheheheh ehe ehehe mmpphhhhh uughhnrn mmepphhh ehe e eheheheh ehehe sttmmpppp heehe ehehehehehhehe!!!”

Her mammary gland muffled my pleas as her hands kept up their torture of my body. Her fingers started kneading my ribs, poking and prodding them. They were so soft, yet still strong enough to drive me crazy. Her face was so close to mine, ruby red lips kissing my cheek, feeling like fire. Her hair fell across me, tickling my neck and ears, red feathery wisps covering my skin.

“I love a ticklish boy,” she whispered, her breath exciting and tormenting me.

She wasn’t holding or restraining me. I could have broken away from her so easily and run away from her tormenting hands. It wasn’t her strength keeping me there but my desire. Even as I howled, even as my desire to escape the torment she was putting me through grew, I couldn’t let her go. If anything, I held on more fiercely, pressed her body even more tightly against mine.

Her fingertips reached my armpits, slipping into the crevices under my arms easily, wiggling and driving my hysteria even higher. At the same time, she began grinding against me, pressing her pussy hard against my stiff member. Only the thin layer of cloth of my pajama bottoms kept me from paradise.

“Laugh for me boy, laugh!” she commanded. Her fingers vibrated like inspect wings, like twigs blown in the breeze, buried deeply in my armpits. I did as she commanded, howling at the top of my lungs, even as I pressed my face more and more into her bussom.

I was dying. I couldn’t get any air, even as her fingers drove me wilder and wilder. Yet even the thought of death couldn’t make me want to break that embrace. Her nipple was back in my mouth even as her fingers kept swirling through my underarm hair. She was nibbling on my neck now, tongue licking from collar bone to chin, exciting me and driving me even more hysterical.

I sucked. God help me, I sucked hard. Somehow, that seemed to meet my need for oxygen. Either that or my crazed brain just stopped caring. Please, please stop tickling! PLLELLEEAAASSEEEEEEE HA AHJAH AH AHAHAHAH AHAHA I I HA AHAHAHAHAHH I CAHAHAHAHANNTT AHAHAHAH GGRGRGRGRNN A AHAHA AHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAAHHA AHAHH!!!!!”

Her hands finally left my armpits, giving me a second of sanity as they slid down my sweat covered sides. They made it all the way down to my hips. There, they dug into the bone, pressing hard, like roots forcing their way through dense earth. I screamed into her boob, pouring my ticklish agony into her soft flesh.

Her fingers which had been so soft, so delicate were now hard and firm, knotted like old bark. They quickly found the weak spots in on my waist and down my hips, worming into them, pressing harder and harder, each poke forcing more and more laughter out of my mouth.

Tremors from the tickling rolled down my legs, causing them to shake. My one foot started stomping to some unseen beat. My fingers slid into her long, coppery hair, grabbing tight, pressing her mouth harder against my skin. I was helping her torment me, helping her keep me in hysterical agony.

After an eternity or several seconds of tickling my hips, she slid my pajama pants down, revealing the fact that I wore no underwear, sliding until my rock hard penis popped out. Her hands slipped around to my buttocks, tickling with a feathery touch that threatened to drive me insane.


I squealed like a sucking pig, head whipping from side to side. Even the ambrosia that was her breasts couldn’t keep me still. This was torture of the highest degree. It was unbearable.

Her fingers felt like pine needles, sharp and pointy, skittering across my backside, and sliding over my soft posterior. I howled. It was like my ass was on fire! Somehow it got even worse when those pin pricks got closer and closer to my crack.

The need to cover my butt with my own hands, to shield it from her tormenting digits was high. Butt that would have made me remove them from her soft, smooth skin, prevented them from gliding over her curved, sensual body. The very thought made me want to cry. I just couldn’t do it.

Her index fingers ran up and down my crack, sliding up and down its outer edge. They were so prickly, so pointy, easily reducing me to an unthinking, bellowing shred of a man. Oh how they wiggled and darted over that most tender of flesh. I would have done anything to make them stop, anything but end my fevered embrace of her beautiful body. It held my arms, like a magnet holds iron.

My mind may have refused to give in, but my body didn’t have the same endurance. Eventually, it gave out at some point, the tickling and laughter having drained me to the point where my muscles couldn’t support me. Despite my need to caress the lovely lady, even as her fingers drove me crazy, I felt myself start to fall, to crash back to the mossy ground.

It was then, only at the point of my absolute exhaustion, that she pushed my ass forward, forcing me to thrust into her, impaling her pussy, burying myself in deep.

The feeling cannot be explained in words. Gretchen had forced many orgasms upon me lately, but they could not. If pleasure was color, she had made me see every color in the rainbow. What I felt now was a new color, falling nowhere on the spectrum. It lasted some eternal second, and I came. There was no way I could even attempt to hold back, to resist. I came as hard as I ever had, thrusting and shooting.

When I was done, a brief bit on sanity touched my mind. I looked back at the nude woman who just made love to me. She was still as beautiful, but no longer seductive, I no longer felt the need to rush to her or embrace her. Instead, something about the expression on her face, predatory and cruel, chilled me to the bone. So would the spider look at the fly after it was bound in her webs.

Escape, run, flee! Before I could even let her go, however, the woman stared deeply into my eyes again, her swallowing me again in the green.

“Sleep, tickle boy,” she said.

“No!” I screamed as I felt a wave of exhaustion crash over me, “I’ve…got…to…” I try to stumble away, but my legs are like lead, and my eyelids too heavy to keep open. I make it a few steps, grabbing onto a sapling to steady myself.

“Sleep, tickle boy,” she says again, her voice so soft, so soothing. For a second, I do, before shaking my head.

“N…nooooooo” I whisper, trying to move again. I trip over a root I would have sworn wasn’t there a second before and fall, my head hitting a pile of leaves which has somehow appeared like a pillow.

I was unconscious immediately.

* * * * *

When I woke up, I was lying in the middle of the clearing, wrapped up in vines like a mummy. From my shoulders to my ankles, the green, springy ropes had been wound around me, covering every inch. Only my head, feet…and penis were sticking out.

“Wakey, wakey, tickle boy,” the redhead said softly, caressing my cheek. She was sitting on the ground, next to me. She had changed somehow. Bits of leaves and twigs were entwined in her long, scarlet locks, while her pale skin had obtained a slight green shade. But it was more than that, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

I struggled, desperate to break free. The vines were not tied, were not even wrapped that tightly, but every time I pressed against them, they seemed to push back. It was like they were alive, constricting me just enough to thwart my escape attempts. I had been held down, pinned, put in arm locks and leg locks, but never had I been as helpless as I was at that moment.

At least the vines protected most of my body. With my manhood sticking out, however, I still felt vulnerable and exposed. It was just hanging out there, inviting the redhead to do whatever she liked to it, and there was nothing I could do to stop her.

“Shh shhh, pretty boy,” she said, stroking my dick and sending jolts of pleasure shooting through me, “You should consider yourself fortunate. Normally my mates do not live through the copulation. But as I did not conceive and you were so much fun to play with, I’m keeping you around for one more try.”

One more try. Then she’d kill me. Now I remembered the horror, the terror. Whatever this thing was in front of me, however gorgeous she appeared, I somehow knew she wasn’t human. The expression on her face, the way she held herself, were somehow more arachnid them mammalian.

Her hand felt so good, soft as silk. My manhood didn’t rise, however, which I could tell was displeasing her. Fear and the fact it had been so overused lately kept it soft.

“Such fear,” she said disapprovingly, still stroking me, “Luckily, I know how to cheer you up. And I know which body part shall feel my wrath.” She grinned evilly.

Her hand, which had been running up and down my still flaccid penis went down to my testicles. She started clicking one nail underneath them, back and forth.

I lost it. The sensation was more intense than any I had yet felt. Her nail was like a thorn, tracing the line that ran through the center of my scrotum. I screamed, laughing with every inch of my energy and strength.


I was simply awful. That finger roamed my scrotum with ease, tracing over my left ball, then my right, up near my cock, then down to the sweaty underside.

I howled, I cackled, I made sounds that weren’t even human. The redhead listened in glee, her face blossoming into a full grin. She seemed to be loving every one of my tormented cries, as her fingernail drew out more and more of my suffering.

Her other hand joined in, moving to my shaft, which had at last become hard under the tickling onslaught. It too lightly traced over the sensitive skin, following the veiny flesh so light even a feather would have felt heavy by comparison.


Tears flowed from my eyes as the muscles in my chest and legs writhed in their cocoon of vines. Sharp under my balls, light and delicate on my member. I was in a hell I had never imagined before, bellowing and screaming, bursts of white light exploding behind my eyes.

“Gitchie gitchie goo, kootch, kootch, kootch,” she whispered, index finger still scratching beneath my balls a bit faster, a bit harder, the fingers sliding down my shaft vibrating ever so slightly.

“Oh yes, yes,” she moaned, her body quivering almost as much as mine, my suffering pleasuring her even more than my penis had earlier.

My laughter went silent, the air gone from my lungs. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. But I knew, knew as if our brains were connected, that this was how the redhead was going to kill me. She would literally tickle me to death, enjoying my last spasms and hysterical gasps more than a virgin on her wedding night.

“Rest assured,” she said, her voice husky with desire, “I shall be able to harvest your seed after you are gone. You shall sire another just like me, so that both me and my daughter can bring this ticklish agony to more ticklish boys.”

I could see it, see this one and a being who humanity would call my daughter, seducing, tormenting and tickling to death a legion of young men. If her twitching fingers didn’t have me so deeply submerged in a sea of hilarity, I would have cried.

“I don’t think so.”

The four words were spoken quietly, yet they seemed like an explosion, shaking the very air in the glen where the redhead was tormenting me. She stopped in a panic looking for its source.

There, at the edge of the trees stood Mrs. Weiss.

“That boy is my property, Svetlana” the blond said simply, walking forward, “His seed is mine, as his his laughter. You should not have touched him. None shall punish him without my permission.”

The redhead looked down at me, then back at Mrs. Weiss. Fear was plastered on her face.

“I think it’s time for me to teach you a lesson.”

08-02-2015, 07:31 AM
Wonderful continuation!
Looking forward to more of this fine story. :D

08-02-2015, 11:29 AM
Another great part

08-03-2015, 01:34 AM
you have set this up really nicely…good work

08-03-2015, 06:29 PM
Amazing. The next part sounds like it's gonna be rad too!

08-08-2015, 04:23 PM
Thank you everyone. Part 4 will come soon.

09-12-2015, 04:47 AM
Still holding out hope for part 4, would love to know whats going on

09-12-2015, 10:24 AM
HOT! These women feast on the ticklishness of young men!

12-17-2015, 03:21 AM
really think its time for part 4. Love to find out just what sort of lesson mrs weiss is gonna teach svetlana