Morning Angel
TMF Expert
- Joined
- May 10, 2003
- Messages
- 339
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Here's the conclusion. Sorry I took so long getting this done. Hope you enjoy it!
MA
He leisurely sauntered over to my bare feet, toes gleaming with cherry-red polish. “Ready to beg?” he asked.
I was exhausted from the torture he’d inflicted upon me over the past 45 minutes. I could feel my skin tingling all over my body where he had tickled me. I barely had the strength to plead coherently through the after-shock laughter that still escaped my lips. “Please,” I gasped. “Please... no more tickling... mercy... please.” “You want mercy?” he retorted mockingly. “Silly little girl, you don’t know what you want.” What was it about his teasing that drove me absolutely wild?
Maybe it was the fact that his words were true. At that point I didn’t know what I wanted. Part of me wanted this torment to be over, but another part couldn’t help but want the tickling to go far beyond the original aims of this session. It didn’t matter, in the end, because I was powerless to act on either of these desires. I could plead all I wanted—I was completely under his control, and that realisation excited me even more.
As he ran an index finger up the sole of my right foot, his teasing continued: “I never dreamed I could make you surrender this easily, Precious.” All my anger, sexual frustration, humiliation and desire broke the surface as I shouted, “Precious, am I? Ok then, prove it! No limits!” For once he was caught off-guard, and again he spoke, but this time instead of teasing me he looked straight into my eyes and spoke simply.
“Are you sure you want this?”
Although he still wore an impish smile, his voice was sincere. I couldn’t keep eye contact, but my voice was steady as I answered, “Yes.”
With my eyes closed, I braced myself. I expected the fiercest assault my feet had ever faced. I expected non-stop tickling. I expected his goal to be to tickle me to death. But instead he began gently rubbing my feet with his strong, warm hands, sensually caressing every inch. His nimble touch, which had only a few moments ago been agonizing, was now affectionate, even loving. He massaged each individual toe, moved up around my ankles and back down over my arches. Occasionally he would tickle my feet, but it was such a soft tickling that I didn’t reflexively pull away from it. In between light giggles I moaned out loud before I could stop myself. “That’s it,” he said. “You’re so beautiful when you’re on the edge.”
It felt wonderful, and I was more aroused than ever, but it confused me even more than the tickling. Our hour was almost up. What did he hope to accomplish by taking me to the edge of bliss and then leaving me? Well, if I was to be his plaything, I might as well play along. I opened my eyes, ready to ask tauntingly if that was the best he could do. But as I looked at him, I saw how much he was enjoying massaging my feet and making me sigh with pleasure. He looked like he never wanted to stop. He looked up at me and saw my confusion, and he abruptly removed his hands from my feet. I gasped in surprise and frustration, wanting more than anything to have his hands on me again. I could tell he wanted it too. He was breathing heavily. His erection was so large that his pants looked ready to burst open, but there was more than lust in the expression on his face. He wasn’t just having casual fun.
“Time’s up, Precious,” he whispered. “Unless, of course, you beg me.” And then I understood it all. He didn’t want to make me beg for him to stop tickling me. He wanted me to beg for it to continue. I knew then that his fiendish, relentless tickling and his teasing massage had been as much for my benefit as for his own. He wanted to stay with me. As if reading my mind, he stepped out of the dominant personality he’d assumed for our session and said in a husky voice, “I can extend our time here. I can give you everything you crave, but I have to know that you want this as much as I do. You know what I need to hear from you, my darling.” Oh yes, I knew. It would mean swallowing my pride and falling fully into submission, something I had never done for anyone under any circumstances before. But I was finally ready.
“Tickle me,” I whispered.
“Louder.”
“Tickle me!”
“Not good enough. I have to hear your need.”
“Goddamn it, just tickle me! Now! Please!”
“So the whole dungeon can hear you.”
“TICKLE ME! TICKLE ME INSANE, TICKLE ME TO DEATH. PLEASE PLEASE TICKLE ME TO ORGASM. OH GOD, I NEED YOU, WANT TO BE TICKLED BY YOU SO BADLY I CAN’T STAND IT.”
I was out of breath and my voice was hoarse, but I had finally spoken the truth and I had never felt better. He learned in and kissed me full on the lips, and said, “That was magnificent, Precious. I’m going to buy us some more time.” And then he was back in character. “Don’t go anywhere, now,” he taunted.
A minute later he was back. He silently stripped and put on a condom. Seeing his naked body kicked my desire up another notch. I wanted him inside of me now, and I didn’t know how long I could hold out against this final torture. Carefully he released my legs from their bonds, and as he climbed onto the bondage table he raised my legs up over his shoulders, spreading them wide. My arms were still bound and stretched tightly above my head, and he started with them, tracing tiny invisible lines down my forearms, over my biceps, slowly, slowly into my underarms. I was laughing uncontrollably and moaning again. I began to grind my hips, searching for his cock, delirious with desire. He chuckled again, and that alone was enough to make me moan and beg through my giggles, “I need you now… heeheehee… please… heeheehahaha… make love to me.” “Naughty, naughty. Aren’t we impatient,” he answered. “I think naughty little girls should be punished. I think naughty little girls should get their tummies tickled.”
And with that he started to spider-tickle all over my ribs, tummy and hips, quick tickles that left me one step behind, never knowing where I’d feel his hands next. I was hysterical, couldn’t speak. It took a moment to realise that he had slipped his cock inside of me. “I never could resist you naughty girls,” he said. He continued tickling my ribs as we moved together towards orgasm. The double stimulation was almost enough to make me pass out as I rose to a powerful crescendo and experienced a climax that was like nothing I’d ever felt before. Before I could recover, his hands travelled across my ribs, back over my tummy, and down to my thighs and knees. “No!” I cried, but he knew I wanted it. We were both giggling like little kids as he slowly lowered his wiggling fingers to my body and teased me. “I’m gonna getcha. Tickle, tickle, tickle, Precious.” Less than a minute after he began clawing at my knees I screamed and shuddered with a second orgasm. This time the stimulation, emotion and exhaustion were too much and I lost consciousness.
When I awoke I found myself unbound and lying on a couch in his arms. For a few minutes I just lay there contented, but a question still weighed on my mind. “How did you know the way I felt about you?” I asked. “I didn’t,” he said, stroking my hair. “I knew the moment I saw you that you were everything I wanted, but I had no idea that you already felt the same way. I’d only hoped to move you to new heights of pleasure and show you how truly wonderful erotic tickling can be. I know the original plan was to make this a playful tickling session, but the more we talked the more connected I felt to you. Then when you walked in the door I knew that you were my dream come true. Not just a tickler’s dream, but my dream, my personal fantasy. I knew that you were scared, but somewhere inside I could sense how much you longed to be tickled to your absolute limits. I wanted to reassure you that not only could you survive it but you would emerge happier than you’ve ever been in your life.” I didn’t have to say anything. All I had to do was look at him and he could read me. I met the gaze of this amazing man, knowing my life would never be the same again.
The End
MA
He leisurely sauntered over to my bare feet, toes gleaming with cherry-red polish. “Ready to beg?” he asked.
I was exhausted from the torture he’d inflicted upon me over the past 45 minutes. I could feel my skin tingling all over my body where he had tickled me. I barely had the strength to plead coherently through the after-shock laughter that still escaped my lips. “Please,” I gasped. “Please... no more tickling... mercy... please.” “You want mercy?” he retorted mockingly. “Silly little girl, you don’t know what you want.” What was it about his teasing that drove me absolutely wild?
Maybe it was the fact that his words were true. At that point I didn’t know what I wanted. Part of me wanted this torment to be over, but another part couldn’t help but want the tickling to go far beyond the original aims of this session. It didn’t matter, in the end, because I was powerless to act on either of these desires. I could plead all I wanted—I was completely under his control, and that realisation excited me even more.
As he ran an index finger up the sole of my right foot, his teasing continued: “I never dreamed I could make you surrender this easily, Precious.” All my anger, sexual frustration, humiliation and desire broke the surface as I shouted, “Precious, am I? Ok then, prove it! No limits!” For once he was caught off-guard, and again he spoke, but this time instead of teasing me he looked straight into my eyes and spoke simply.
“Are you sure you want this?”
Although he still wore an impish smile, his voice was sincere. I couldn’t keep eye contact, but my voice was steady as I answered, “Yes.”
With my eyes closed, I braced myself. I expected the fiercest assault my feet had ever faced. I expected non-stop tickling. I expected his goal to be to tickle me to death. But instead he began gently rubbing my feet with his strong, warm hands, sensually caressing every inch. His nimble touch, which had only a few moments ago been agonizing, was now affectionate, even loving. He massaged each individual toe, moved up around my ankles and back down over my arches. Occasionally he would tickle my feet, but it was such a soft tickling that I didn’t reflexively pull away from it. In between light giggles I moaned out loud before I could stop myself. “That’s it,” he said. “You’re so beautiful when you’re on the edge.”
It felt wonderful, and I was more aroused than ever, but it confused me even more than the tickling. Our hour was almost up. What did he hope to accomplish by taking me to the edge of bliss and then leaving me? Well, if I was to be his plaything, I might as well play along. I opened my eyes, ready to ask tauntingly if that was the best he could do. But as I looked at him, I saw how much he was enjoying massaging my feet and making me sigh with pleasure. He looked like he never wanted to stop. He looked up at me and saw my confusion, and he abruptly removed his hands from my feet. I gasped in surprise and frustration, wanting more than anything to have his hands on me again. I could tell he wanted it too. He was breathing heavily. His erection was so large that his pants looked ready to burst open, but there was more than lust in the expression on his face. He wasn’t just having casual fun.
“Time’s up, Precious,” he whispered. “Unless, of course, you beg me.” And then I understood it all. He didn’t want to make me beg for him to stop tickling me. He wanted me to beg for it to continue. I knew then that his fiendish, relentless tickling and his teasing massage had been as much for my benefit as for his own. He wanted to stay with me. As if reading my mind, he stepped out of the dominant personality he’d assumed for our session and said in a husky voice, “I can extend our time here. I can give you everything you crave, but I have to know that you want this as much as I do. You know what I need to hear from you, my darling.” Oh yes, I knew. It would mean swallowing my pride and falling fully into submission, something I had never done for anyone under any circumstances before. But I was finally ready.
“Tickle me,” I whispered.
“Louder.”
“Tickle me!”
“Not good enough. I have to hear your need.”
“Goddamn it, just tickle me! Now! Please!”
“So the whole dungeon can hear you.”
“TICKLE ME! TICKLE ME INSANE, TICKLE ME TO DEATH. PLEASE PLEASE TICKLE ME TO ORGASM. OH GOD, I NEED YOU, WANT TO BE TICKLED BY YOU SO BADLY I CAN’T STAND IT.”
I was out of breath and my voice was hoarse, but I had finally spoken the truth and I had never felt better. He learned in and kissed me full on the lips, and said, “That was magnificent, Precious. I’m going to buy us some more time.” And then he was back in character. “Don’t go anywhere, now,” he taunted.
A minute later he was back. He silently stripped and put on a condom. Seeing his naked body kicked my desire up another notch. I wanted him inside of me now, and I didn’t know how long I could hold out against this final torture. Carefully he released my legs from their bonds, and as he climbed onto the bondage table he raised my legs up over his shoulders, spreading them wide. My arms were still bound and stretched tightly above my head, and he started with them, tracing tiny invisible lines down my forearms, over my biceps, slowly, slowly into my underarms. I was laughing uncontrollably and moaning again. I began to grind my hips, searching for his cock, delirious with desire. He chuckled again, and that alone was enough to make me moan and beg through my giggles, “I need you now… heeheehee… please… heeheehahaha… make love to me.” “Naughty, naughty. Aren’t we impatient,” he answered. “I think naughty little girls should be punished. I think naughty little girls should get their tummies tickled.”
And with that he started to spider-tickle all over my ribs, tummy and hips, quick tickles that left me one step behind, never knowing where I’d feel his hands next. I was hysterical, couldn’t speak. It took a moment to realise that he had slipped his cock inside of me. “I never could resist you naughty girls,” he said. He continued tickling my ribs as we moved together towards orgasm. The double stimulation was almost enough to make me pass out as I rose to a powerful crescendo and experienced a climax that was like nothing I’d ever felt before. Before I could recover, his hands travelled across my ribs, back over my tummy, and down to my thighs and knees. “No!” I cried, but he knew I wanted it. We were both giggling like little kids as he slowly lowered his wiggling fingers to my body and teased me. “I’m gonna getcha. Tickle, tickle, tickle, Precious.” Less than a minute after he began clawing at my knees I screamed and shuddered with a second orgasm. This time the stimulation, emotion and exhaustion were too much and I lost consciousness.
When I awoke I found myself unbound and lying on a couch in his arms. For a few minutes I just lay there contented, but a question still weighed on my mind. “How did you know the way I felt about you?” I asked. “I didn’t,” he said, stroking my hair. “I knew the moment I saw you that you were everything I wanted, but I had no idea that you already felt the same way. I’d only hoped to move you to new heights of pleasure and show you how truly wonderful erotic tickling can be. I know the original plan was to make this a playful tickling session, but the more we talked the more connected I felt to you. Then when you walked in the door I knew that you were my dream come true. Not just a tickler’s dream, but my dream, my personal fantasy. I knew that you were scared, but somewhere inside I could sense how much you longed to be tickled to your absolute limits. I wanted to reassure you that not only could you survive it but you would emerge happier than you’ve ever been in your life.” I didn’t have to say anything. All I had to do was look at him and he could read me. I met the gaze of this amazing man, knowing my life would never be the same again.
The End
). Aside from that, I take great pleasure in inflicting the curse of the TMF upon you with the magic phrase:
