Thanks to all those who gave such staggering feedback on part 1, hope part 2 lives up to expectations.
It’d had only been a couple of weeks since Danielle and I had first spent the night together and we were still in that ‘can’t think of anyone but them’ stage that all couples seem to go through. We’d talked a little about what had happened, and perhaps most importantly, why it’d happened that night, and it turned out that she’d had the same sort of feelings for me as I had for her, and just like me, hadn’t been able to talk to me about them. Mary had picked up on what was going on though, and had, with the aid of a bit of alcohol admittedly, had talked her into acting on her desires. We both agreed that we’d have to repay her for that bit of matchmaking, though neither of us knew quite how to do that.
We’d loaded up the cars on Friday night and spent a long five hours in the early hours of Saturday morning driving to a campsite I knew on the welsh coast about half-an-hour’s walk from the town where I grew up. It wasn’t the normal, tourist-orientated campsite, it was too far off the main roads for that and it was mainly used by locals who wanted to get away from the town for a while. We had the place to ourselves that weekend, and the reaction on the other’s faces when we arrived was worth the two hundred plus mile trip to get there.
The campsite itself was a small field on top of a hill, one rough dirt road leading up to it, barely big enough to drive along. The field was circled by a ring of trees, the tops of which were just below eye-line when you sat on the rich grass. To the north and south were rolling fields leading up to towering cliffs, behind us to the east the valley stretched into the distance and in front of us was a small sandy cove leading to the sea. It was the sort of setting you’d expect to find in a novel, but it was real and for the next two days it was all ours.
We pitched up the tents in a square, one tent on each corner with a big gazebo in the middle as a communal area. Once we were sure nothing was going to take off, we headed out onto the cliff path and walked the four miles or so to the small seaside village to the north, then on to the sand dunes beyond. I’d spent a lot of time here when I was young, and for that matter when I was going to university, but never had I felt a greater sense of peace, of freedom, as I did that day as I finally had someone to share this place with.
We arrived back at camp just as the sun started to dip towards the horizon, casting purple and orange streaks over the sky and backlighting the few wispy clouds that hung in the dusk sky. Heading over to the boot of my car, Danielle, Tim, Mary and myself opened the coolers I’d had built into the boot and grabbed what we’d need for the night, including one of those instant barbeque kits most supermarkets sell once the summer months roll round. Soon the food was sizzling over the charcoal and the alcohol was flowing freely, though none of us went overboard as we knew we had a long day ahead of us.
As the night closed in the temperature dropped to a point just the right side of cool, a slight breeze rustling the trees all around us and blowing the smell of the ocean over our campsite. As midnight approached we all started yawning, the activity of the day seeming to hit everyone at once and eventually we made our way to bed. The sleeping arrangements were simple enough, and mainly followed the same pattern as the practice night had used with Tim and his girlfriend sleeping in their tent, Tony sleeping alone in his, Mary, Helen and Sally each taking one room of their massive four bedroom tent and Danielle and me sharing mine.
One of the strange things about camping is the thought and effort that goes into even the most simple of exercises, and getting ready for bed is probably the most obvious example. Any light inside the tent will tend to backlight the people within, leading to a kind of striptease shadow show being projected onto the tent walls. The usual result is either you get undressed inside your sleeping bag, or you give your eyes a moment to adjust and use what natural light to see by. I usually go for option one, and almost without thinking I slid into the big double sleeping bag, rolled all the way over to the back of the tent and stripped down, storing my clothes between the edge of the air mattress and the wall of the tent. Realising Danielle hadn’t done the same I turned over to see what was going on.
And stared transfixed as, outlined by the dim light, Danielle put on a private show that almost blew my mind. She’d already shucked her footwear and slowly rolled her trousers down those perfect legs before stepping out of them completely and crawling on her hands and knees to where I lay transfixed. The starlight that managed to filter through the tent was only enough to make out outlines and shapes, not texture or any fine detail, so to the eye she looked little different than she had before she started to disrobe. Kneeling on the sleeping bag, pulling it tight over my chest and effectively trapping me inside she gently pulled my arm out from inside the bag and guided my fingers up her smooth thighs to her waist, then down again. It took two passes before my stunned mind registered what I was, or rather, wasn’t feeling as there was no fabric looped over her hips to interrupt my fingers and I found myself wondering just how long she’d been without underwear today.
She shifted sideways slightly, loosening the cover slightly and tucked my hand back inside before pulling the bag tighter than ever. She slowly peeled up her t-shirt, turning slightly to let me watch from the side as she stripped away the last of her clothing and knelt above me, glorious to behold, a vision come to life before me. My eyes were finally starting to adjust to the light and I could just make out her face twitch with a devilish grin as she lent down to kiss me, throwing her right leg over my body, straddling me on top of the sleeping bag, the cloth allowing me to feel her weight, her presence without the luxury of actually touching her flesh.
She stayed in that position for at least ten minutes as we kissed, my hands roaming under the material, caressing her as best I could, determined to give some of this frustration, this teasing back to her. Eventually she relented and slid inside the sleeping bag herself, wrapping those long legs around me again as we both fought to keep control on our lust. Gradually we became aware of a soft, almost inaudible noise, almost beyond the point of hearing, filtering through the canvas. We paused for a moment as we both tried to work out exactly what the sound could be, but we came up blank. Curious I reluctantly slid out of Danielle’s embrace and grabbed a t-shirt and jogging pants from my pack. Years of going on paintball days had gotten me in the habit of moving damn near silently on any terrain, and barefoot over close cut grass proved to be no challenge at all.
I slipped out of our tent and paused, crouched in the shadows next to it as I tried to pick up the sound again. It seemed to stop and start at irregular intervals, but after a minute or two I was sure it was coming from one of the bedrooms of the palatial tent the rest of the girls were using. It seemed to be the room closest to our tent, which was probably why we’d heard it and no one else had. Carefully, not wanting to get caught up in a guy rope I moved over to the canvas wall and dropped to my stomach, trying to see under the flysheet. The angle was awful, all I could really see was the outline of someone, I wasn’t sure who but I thought it was Mary, sitting or kneeling down with her arms stretched out in front. The noise was slightly clearer but I couldn’t quite make that out properly either. I moved cautiously round to the transparent mesh covering the air vent in the side of the tent, and knelt on the grass to get a decent look. It took a minute for the scene inside, lit as it was only by starlight, to resolve itself and then I moved away, knowing Danielle would want to see this.
Soon both of us were kneeling in front of the vent, being careful not to touch the tent itself of course. Inside Mary was straddling a bound and thrashing Helen, her hands running over her victims’ body with obvious glee as Helen squealed and laughed into a makeshift gag. Both women were wearing only their underwear, and from our vantage point it looked like both were enjoying themselves. I think we both felt more than a little guilty for watching this scene unfold before us, but there was also no way either of us could turn away now. Danielle nudged me gently and pointed to Helen’s wrists. It took me a moment or two to work out what she was trying to draw my attention to, then finally I noticed the rope holding her down was tied loosely, loosely enough that if she wanted this to stop she could easily move her hands down and out of her bondage.
This was obviously something that they both wanted to try, and as we watched that impression was reinforced as both women seemed to be struggling for breath at times, eyes drifting closed in pleasure as a touch landed at just the right place on their bodies, their passions tempting them to abandon their game and give into their desires. Mary lent forward and, after a slight pause, kissed Helen with the sort of passion I thought only really happened in the movies. The kiss lasted a long time, Mary’s hands exploring her prisoners’ body, moving up from her waist to her breasts, then on up her arms to her wrists. I must admit I presumed that she was going to free her victim from the ropes and give in to the desire raging through her body.
Instead she took hold of the end of the rope and gave a quick yank, tightening the knot and trapping Helen for real. Swiftly climbing off her the now helpless brunette, Mary rummaged in the bottom of her rucksack and brought out a small black tin about the size of a CD case but a lot deeper. Helen’s eyes were moving quickly now, wide with what looked to us like fear as Mary cracked the box open and removed what seemed to be a pepper shaker, the same sort of thing you’d expect to find on most dining tables. It was obviously something more though, as Helen immediately started screaming into her gag, her head thrashing from side to side as she clawed at the knots that held her trying desperately to get away.
It was all to no avail as Mary jumped back on top of her, holding Helen down with her legs as she reached down with peppershaker. She tapped it twice on each armpit, several times over the belly and then, with slow teasing motions she pulled each bra cup down slightly, exposing Helen’s large breasts one at a time, shook the thing over each one several times then replaced the bra. Once she was finished she sat back, worked her way down and to the side of Helen’s squirming body until she could comfortably trap her bound ankles between her legs and watch as whatever had been in that shaker started to take effect.
Helen’s gyrations increased quickly, to the point where I started to wonder if the tent would stand up to the assault. Her upper body and thighs were thrashing in all directions, looking for some form of escape from whatever had been done to her. I was transfixed by the image in front of me and almost jumped a mile as Danielle put her lips to my ear and whispered “Itching Powder”. Yeah, that made sense, if fact it made perfect sense considering Helen’s terrified reaction to that shaker if she’d experienced this before somewhere. Danielle nudged me again and I made my second bad assumption of the night. I had assumed she was going to say enough and get us both out of there. Instead she started signalling a much more daring plan than I’d have ever dreamed off.
Slowly, carefully, we made our way round to the communal bit of the big tent and crouched outside the door. Only the outer door was closed, the inner was tied back to try and get some airflow through the tent and I crouched to the left of the door, one hand on the zipper while Danielle knelt on the right. She nodded and in one motion I ran the zipper all the way round the edge of the door, opening the tent to the outside world. As soon as the door was open Danielle dived in, landing square on Mary’s stomach and catching her completely by surprise. I paused a second to make sure I wasn’t going to land on anyone, as I’m heavy enough to hurt if I did, and threw myself over the two battling girls in the front of the tent to land in a heap next to Helen’s head and arms. Reaching up I yanked the straps off her wrists, leaving them attached to the tent. A flash of movement caught my eye as I saw Danielle wrestle Mary round and move her hands close enough for me to catch in my own. It really wasn’t a fair fight, even without me being there. Danielle was at least four inches taller, was far stronger and had the element of surprise on her side. But hey, who said life was fair?
I quickly secured Mary’s wrists to the tent, then before she had really grasped what was happening had pulled the gag from Helen’s mouth and applied it to Mary. In the meantime Danielle had grabbed a t-shirt and had tied Mary’s ankles together, pulling her feet down to the still open door. Placing her ankles on the zipper she pulled the double zip closed so that Mary’s feet where held securely in the door, the t-shirt not only holding her ankles together but making sure that the teeth of the zipper didn’t hurt her as Danielle pulled the gap as tight as she could before looping a boot lace through the two zips and tying it off.
The whole thing had taken less than thirty seconds and the end results were everything we could have hoped for. Imagine a beautiful, young, ticklish blonde, stretched out and helpless, her wrists tied above her head, her ankles secured and her feet trapped helplessly out of her sight, her body clad only in silk underwear as every muscle and inch of skin is pulled tight and vulnerable to your wildest fantasies. That’s what we had in front of us, and we were determined to make the most of it.
Outside the door Danielle started to tickle Mary’s helpless soles and the reaction was electric. It’s one of the strangest experiences I’ve ever had, seeing this blond stunner writhing and thrashing in ticklish agony, but with no obvious source for the motion. Of course I had no idea what Danielle was doing but whatever it was there was no doubt it was incredibly effective. Mary was howling into her gag, eyes closed tight one moment, open wide and pleading the next. I sat and watched, ignoring the occasional twitches in my hands as I imagined getting my hands on this enticing woman.
Suddenly a hand touched my shoulder and I looked up startled to see Helen staring down at me, a questioning look in her eyes as she glanced hungrily towards her tormenter, now tied and helpless before her. I grinned and nodded, moving to the door of the tent and tapped gently on the fabric. There was the sound of a zip being opened and Danielle slid into the tent, securing the door back around Mary’s ankles as she did so. She sat down next to me as we moved back slightly to allow Helen some room to work.
Helen swung her leg over Mary and sat down just above her knees, hands held behind her back. Mary’s head came up and she gave Helen a look that was half longing and half fear, knowing that she was going to have to pay for her earlier actions. With a truly evil smile Helen brought the peppershaker out from behind her back. She started to tease the captive beauty under her by moving the shaker over her ribs, underarms, belly, breasts neck and thighs, tipping it over to the point that the powder inside was resting on the edge of the holes but not quite falling onto that vulnerable, taut, ticklish skin, then moving on to a new area and repeating the process. Mary was going out of her mind, begging with her tormenter not to do it, although her efforts may have been more successful if the gag didn’t turn even the most elegant plea into a muffled yelp. Almost subconsciously I slid an arm around Danielle as we once again settled back to watch the show and I felt her slide her legs over mine in response.
Meanwhile Helen was building up to a truly show stopping number. Reaching down she pulled Mary’s panties away from her body, pulling the waistband down so the front formed a cloth cup. Slowly she poured a more than generous helping of the itching powder into this cup and then placed the shaker down beside her. Mary was thrashing her head from side to side, her eyes open wide as she watched Helen gradually move her panties back towards her body, pushing them tight against the curve of her flesh before finally flipping the ‘cup’ back round the right way, coating Mary’s pussy with the powder while, at virtually the same instant Helen darted her fingers up to Mary’s armpits and dug in for all she was worth.
I’d never seen such a reaction before as I saw when that powder touched Mary’s skin. Every muscle seemed to tense at once, lifting her body clear off the ground as she arched backwards, her mouth opening wide, her eyes screwed shut, fingers grasping out behind her. She actually managed to pick up Helen as well, and for a moment they stayed frozen like that, Helen seemingly too stunned at what was happening to do much about it. Then it all seemed to come crashing back for Mary and she collapsed writhing and howling to the ground again, a motion that got faster and more desperate the instant Helen started her assault on the armpits.
(continued)
It’d had only been a couple of weeks since Danielle and I had first spent the night together and we were still in that ‘can’t think of anyone but them’ stage that all couples seem to go through. We’d talked a little about what had happened, and perhaps most importantly, why it’d happened that night, and it turned out that she’d had the same sort of feelings for me as I had for her, and just like me, hadn’t been able to talk to me about them. Mary had picked up on what was going on though, and had, with the aid of a bit of alcohol admittedly, had talked her into acting on her desires. We both agreed that we’d have to repay her for that bit of matchmaking, though neither of us knew quite how to do that.
We’d loaded up the cars on Friday night and spent a long five hours in the early hours of Saturday morning driving to a campsite I knew on the welsh coast about half-an-hour’s walk from the town where I grew up. It wasn’t the normal, tourist-orientated campsite, it was too far off the main roads for that and it was mainly used by locals who wanted to get away from the town for a while. We had the place to ourselves that weekend, and the reaction on the other’s faces when we arrived was worth the two hundred plus mile trip to get there.
The campsite itself was a small field on top of a hill, one rough dirt road leading up to it, barely big enough to drive along. The field was circled by a ring of trees, the tops of which were just below eye-line when you sat on the rich grass. To the north and south were rolling fields leading up to towering cliffs, behind us to the east the valley stretched into the distance and in front of us was a small sandy cove leading to the sea. It was the sort of setting you’d expect to find in a novel, but it was real and for the next two days it was all ours.
We pitched up the tents in a square, one tent on each corner with a big gazebo in the middle as a communal area. Once we were sure nothing was going to take off, we headed out onto the cliff path and walked the four miles or so to the small seaside village to the north, then on to the sand dunes beyond. I’d spent a lot of time here when I was young, and for that matter when I was going to university, but never had I felt a greater sense of peace, of freedom, as I did that day as I finally had someone to share this place with.
We arrived back at camp just as the sun started to dip towards the horizon, casting purple and orange streaks over the sky and backlighting the few wispy clouds that hung in the dusk sky. Heading over to the boot of my car, Danielle, Tim, Mary and myself opened the coolers I’d had built into the boot and grabbed what we’d need for the night, including one of those instant barbeque kits most supermarkets sell once the summer months roll round. Soon the food was sizzling over the charcoal and the alcohol was flowing freely, though none of us went overboard as we knew we had a long day ahead of us.
As the night closed in the temperature dropped to a point just the right side of cool, a slight breeze rustling the trees all around us and blowing the smell of the ocean over our campsite. As midnight approached we all started yawning, the activity of the day seeming to hit everyone at once and eventually we made our way to bed. The sleeping arrangements were simple enough, and mainly followed the same pattern as the practice night had used with Tim and his girlfriend sleeping in their tent, Tony sleeping alone in his, Mary, Helen and Sally each taking one room of their massive four bedroom tent and Danielle and me sharing mine.
One of the strange things about camping is the thought and effort that goes into even the most simple of exercises, and getting ready for bed is probably the most obvious example. Any light inside the tent will tend to backlight the people within, leading to a kind of striptease shadow show being projected onto the tent walls. The usual result is either you get undressed inside your sleeping bag, or you give your eyes a moment to adjust and use what natural light to see by. I usually go for option one, and almost without thinking I slid into the big double sleeping bag, rolled all the way over to the back of the tent and stripped down, storing my clothes between the edge of the air mattress and the wall of the tent. Realising Danielle hadn’t done the same I turned over to see what was going on.
And stared transfixed as, outlined by the dim light, Danielle put on a private show that almost blew my mind. She’d already shucked her footwear and slowly rolled her trousers down those perfect legs before stepping out of them completely and crawling on her hands and knees to where I lay transfixed. The starlight that managed to filter through the tent was only enough to make out outlines and shapes, not texture or any fine detail, so to the eye she looked little different than she had before she started to disrobe. Kneeling on the sleeping bag, pulling it tight over my chest and effectively trapping me inside she gently pulled my arm out from inside the bag and guided my fingers up her smooth thighs to her waist, then down again. It took two passes before my stunned mind registered what I was, or rather, wasn’t feeling as there was no fabric looped over her hips to interrupt my fingers and I found myself wondering just how long she’d been without underwear today.
She shifted sideways slightly, loosening the cover slightly and tucked my hand back inside before pulling the bag tighter than ever. She slowly peeled up her t-shirt, turning slightly to let me watch from the side as she stripped away the last of her clothing and knelt above me, glorious to behold, a vision come to life before me. My eyes were finally starting to adjust to the light and I could just make out her face twitch with a devilish grin as she lent down to kiss me, throwing her right leg over my body, straddling me on top of the sleeping bag, the cloth allowing me to feel her weight, her presence without the luxury of actually touching her flesh.
She stayed in that position for at least ten minutes as we kissed, my hands roaming under the material, caressing her as best I could, determined to give some of this frustration, this teasing back to her. Eventually she relented and slid inside the sleeping bag herself, wrapping those long legs around me again as we both fought to keep control on our lust. Gradually we became aware of a soft, almost inaudible noise, almost beyond the point of hearing, filtering through the canvas. We paused for a moment as we both tried to work out exactly what the sound could be, but we came up blank. Curious I reluctantly slid out of Danielle’s embrace and grabbed a t-shirt and jogging pants from my pack. Years of going on paintball days had gotten me in the habit of moving damn near silently on any terrain, and barefoot over close cut grass proved to be no challenge at all.
I slipped out of our tent and paused, crouched in the shadows next to it as I tried to pick up the sound again. It seemed to stop and start at irregular intervals, but after a minute or two I was sure it was coming from one of the bedrooms of the palatial tent the rest of the girls were using. It seemed to be the room closest to our tent, which was probably why we’d heard it and no one else had. Carefully, not wanting to get caught up in a guy rope I moved over to the canvas wall and dropped to my stomach, trying to see under the flysheet. The angle was awful, all I could really see was the outline of someone, I wasn’t sure who but I thought it was Mary, sitting or kneeling down with her arms stretched out in front. The noise was slightly clearer but I couldn’t quite make that out properly either. I moved cautiously round to the transparent mesh covering the air vent in the side of the tent, and knelt on the grass to get a decent look. It took a minute for the scene inside, lit as it was only by starlight, to resolve itself and then I moved away, knowing Danielle would want to see this.
Soon both of us were kneeling in front of the vent, being careful not to touch the tent itself of course. Inside Mary was straddling a bound and thrashing Helen, her hands running over her victims’ body with obvious glee as Helen squealed and laughed into a makeshift gag. Both women were wearing only their underwear, and from our vantage point it looked like both were enjoying themselves. I think we both felt more than a little guilty for watching this scene unfold before us, but there was also no way either of us could turn away now. Danielle nudged me gently and pointed to Helen’s wrists. It took me a moment or two to work out what she was trying to draw my attention to, then finally I noticed the rope holding her down was tied loosely, loosely enough that if she wanted this to stop she could easily move her hands down and out of her bondage.
This was obviously something that they both wanted to try, and as we watched that impression was reinforced as both women seemed to be struggling for breath at times, eyes drifting closed in pleasure as a touch landed at just the right place on their bodies, their passions tempting them to abandon their game and give into their desires. Mary lent forward and, after a slight pause, kissed Helen with the sort of passion I thought only really happened in the movies. The kiss lasted a long time, Mary’s hands exploring her prisoners’ body, moving up from her waist to her breasts, then on up her arms to her wrists. I must admit I presumed that she was going to free her victim from the ropes and give in to the desire raging through her body.
Instead she took hold of the end of the rope and gave a quick yank, tightening the knot and trapping Helen for real. Swiftly climbing off her the now helpless brunette, Mary rummaged in the bottom of her rucksack and brought out a small black tin about the size of a CD case but a lot deeper. Helen’s eyes were moving quickly now, wide with what looked to us like fear as Mary cracked the box open and removed what seemed to be a pepper shaker, the same sort of thing you’d expect to find on most dining tables. It was obviously something more though, as Helen immediately started screaming into her gag, her head thrashing from side to side as she clawed at the knots that held her trying desperately to get away.
It was all to no avail as Mary jumped back on top of her, holding Helen down with her legs as she reached down with peppershaker. She tapped it twice on each armpit, several times over the belly and then, with slow teasing motions she pulled each bra cup down slightly, exposing Helen’s large breasts one at a time, shook the thing over each one several times then replaced the bra. Once she was finished she sat back, worked her way down and to the side of Helen’s squirming body until she could comfortably trap her bound ankles between her legs and watch as whatever had been in that shaker started to take effect.
Helen’s gyrations increased quickly, to the point where I started to wonder if the tent would stand up to the assault. Her upper body and thighs were thrashing in all directions, looking for some form of escape from whatever had been done to her. I was transfixed by the image in front of me and almost jumped a mile as Danielle put her lips to my ear and whispered “Itching Powder”. Yeah, that made sense, if fact it made perfect sense considering Helen’s terrified reaction to that shaker if she’d experienced this before somewhere. Danielle nudged me again and I made my second bad assumption of the night. I had assumed she was going to say enough and get us both out of there. Instead she started signalling a much more daring plan than I’d have ever dreamed off.
Slowly, carefully, we made our way round to the communal bit of the big tent and crouched outside the door. Only the outer door was closed, the inner was tied back to try and get some airflow through the tent and I crouched to the left of the door, one hand on the zipper while Danielle knelt on the right. She nodded and in one motion I ran the zipper all the way round the edge of the door, opening the tent to the outside world. As soon as the door was open Danielle dived in, landing square on Mary’s stomach and catching her completely by surprise. I paused a second to make sure I wasn’t going to land on anyone, as I’m heavy enough to hurt if I did, and threw myself over the two battling girls in the front of the tent to land in a heap next to Helen’s head and arms. Reaching up I yanked the straps off her wrists, leaving them attached to the tent. A flash of movement caught my eye as I saw Danielle wrestle Mary round and move her hands close enough for me to catch in my own. It really wasn’t a fair fight, even without me being there. Danielle was at least four inches taller, was far stronger and had the element of surprise on her side. But hey, who said life was fair?
I quickly secured Mary’s wrists to the tent, then before she had really grasped what was happening had pulled the gag from Helen’s mouth and applied it to Mary. In the meantime Danielle had grabbed a t-shirt and had tied Mary’s ankles together, pulling her feet down to the still open door. Placing her ankles on the zipper she pulled the double zip closed so that Mary’s feet where held securely in the door, the t-shirt not only holding her ankles together but making sure that the teeth of the zipper didn’t hurt her as Danielle pulled the gap as tight as she could before looping a boot lace through the two zips and tying it off.
The whole thing had taken less than thirty seconds and the end results were everything we could have hoped for. Imagine a beautiful, young, ticklish blonde, stretched out and helpless, her wrists tied above her head, her ankles secured and her feet trapped helplessly out of her sight, her body clad only in silk underwear as every muscle and inch of skin is pulled tight and vulnerable to your wildest fantasies. That’s what we had in front of us, and we were determined to make the most of it.
Outside the door Danielle started to tickle Mary’s helpless soles and the reaction was electric. It’s one of the strangest experiences I’ve ever had, seeing this blond stunner writhing and thrashing in ticklish agony, but with no obvious source for the motion. Of course I had no idea what Danielle was doing but whatever it was there was no doubt it was incredibly effective. Mary was howling into her gag, eyes closed tight one moment, open wide and pleading the next. I sat and watched, ignoring the occasional twitches in my hands as I imagined getting my hands on this enticing woman.
Suddenly a hand touched my shoulder and I looked up startled to see Helen staring down at me, a questioning look in her eyes as she glanced hungrily towards her tormenter, now tied and helpless before her. I grinned and nodded, moving to the door of the tent and tapped gently on the fabric. There was the sound of a zip being opened and Danielle slid into the tent, securing the door back around Mary’s ankles as she did so. She sat down next to me as we moved back slightly to allow Helen some room to work.
Helen swung her leg over Mary and sat down just above her knees, hands held behind her back. Mary’s head came up and she gave Helen a look that was half longing and half fear, knowing that she was going to have to pay for her earlier actions. With a truly evil smile Helen brought the peppershaker out from behind her back. She started to tease the captive beauty under her by moving the shaker over her ribs, underarms, belly, breasts neck and thighs, tipping it over to the point that the powder inside was resting on the edge of the holes but not quite falling onto that vulnerable, taut, ticklish skin, then moving on to a new area and repeating the process. Mary was going out of her mind, begging with her tormenter not to do it, although her efforts may have been more successful if the gag didn’t turn even the most elegant plea into a muffled yelp. Almost subconsciously I slid an arm around Danielle as we once again settled back to watch the show and I felt her slide her legs over mine in response.
Meanwhile Helen was building up to a truly show stopping number. Reaching down she pulled Mary’s panties away from her body, pulling the waistband down so the front formed a cloth cup. Slowly she poured a more than generous helping of the itching powder into this cup and then placed the shaker down beside her. Mary was thrashing her head from side to side, her eyes open wide as she watched Helen gradually move her panties back towards her body, pushing them tight against the curve of her flesh before finally flipping the ‘cup’ back round the right way, coating Mary’s pussy with the powder while, at virtually the same instant Helen darted her fingers up to Mary’s armpits and dug in for all she was worth.
I’d never seen such a reaction before as I saw when that powder touched Mary’s skin. Every muscle seemed to tense at once, lifting her body clear off the ground as she arched backwards, her mouth opening wide, her eyes screwed shut, fingers grasping out behind her. She actually managed to pick up Helen as well, and for a moment they stayed frozen like that, Helen seemingly too stunned at what was happening to do much about it. Then it all seemed to come crashing back for Mary and she collapsed writhing and howling to the ground again, a motion that got faster and more desperate the instant Helen started her assault on the armpits.
(continued)
