Saturday
Megan stared in disbelief at the reflection in the mirror. Sure, she was a pretty girl, with a delightful smattering of freckles around her nose and cheeks, she had always known that. But the girl that stared back at her from the mirror wasn’t like her at all! The girl in the mirror was a sensual, gorgeous redhead who would have easily won Miss Ireland if she decided to take part!
The fact that the girl in the mirror was naked did not detract her beauty one bit. If anything, the bondage made her even more desirable, for it displayed her ample charms most enticingly. She was seated on the carpeted floor, her legs spread apart, feet encased in a pair of stocks that rendered her feet immobile. Her arms were bound behind her back, thrusting her beautiful breasts forward. Her red locks cascaded down her left shoulder, falling to just in front of her left breast. The makeup on her face was minimal, but a hint of blue eyeliner and pink mascara added a wonderful tone to her pale skin.
Then her eyes widened as Selima entered the room. She glided over to Megan, sat beside her, and began to caress her breasts. Megan whimpered at the touch and turned her face away. Selima cupped her face in her hand and turned Megan’s head to face her. “You look so beautiful today,” Selima complimented Megan. “I’m sure the Sheik will be most pleased with you,” she informed the bound beauty with a wicked smile. Megan shuddered at the smile.
Then the Sheik entered the room. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of Megan, for even though his harem consisted of the most beautiful and ticklish women across the globe, Megan stood out amongst them. Her beautiful red locks contrasted wonderfully with her pale, near-white flesh, and the curves of her body were unbelievably sexy. Megan squirmed and blushed under the Sheik’s scrutiny.
“Pretty, isn’t she?” Selima remarked to the Sheik.
“Oh, my, yes,” the Sheik answered hoarsely, still unable to believe the vision of loveliness bound in front of him. “She’s more than pretty!” then his face twisted into an evil smile. “Is she ticklish?”
Selima’s return smile was just as wicked. “Sire, judge for yourself.”
He reached out a finger and brought it slowly towards her ribs. Megan whimpered and twisted her body away as far as her bonds would allow, but his finger grew closer and closer. Her face was a mixture of pleading and horror, an expression which brought much sadistic joy to the Sheik. His finger touched her ribcage, and let out a yelp at the ticklish touch. His finger began to wiggle ever so lightly.
Megan screwed her eyes shut, as she tried to shut out the ticklish sensations. “No please, sir! I beg you, please don’t tickle me,” Megan begged her owner. His response was to wiggle his finger harder into her defenceless ribcage, eliciting a chorus of musical giggles from Megan.
“Oooh, she’s really ticklish!” the Sheik marveled. “I like her even better now!” his other hand began to flutter over her belly, making Megan babble incoherently even as torrents of hysterical laughter emitted from her mouth.
“Yes, Sire,” Selima agreed with the Sheik. Her fingers were kneading Megan’s knees now, making the poor girl howl with ticklish agony. “She’s incredibly ticklish, one of the best we’ve had for a long time!” Then she smirked. “You should have heard what she was offering me, just to get a break from the tickling! Ooooh, just the thought of what she said makes me all hot!”
The Sheik moved his hands to Megan’s inner thighs. His fingers easily found her bikini line and he dug in with relish. Megan opened her mouth wide, but no sound came out. Tears of ticklish torment streamed down her cheeks, mixing with her mascara. “Well, well, let’s see if my lovely Saturday can offer me something nice, then maybe I’ll stop.”
Megan was half-crying, half-laughing. Her feet were still in the stocks, but her arms were now tied above her head. The Sheik was using the metal finger attachments to stroke her soles with the ball ends, every single stroke sending ticklish sensations exploding on her soles. He was enjoying himself very much.
Selima was seated behind Megan, expertly working her outstretched underarms. A light stroke here, a brief wiggle there, a constant pressure on the hollows. Whatever Selima did, Megan suffered horribly. Selima dug her fingers into Megan’s underarms, wiggling away sadistically. Megan whooped and burst out into hysterical laughter.
“I just love the way your breasts jiggle,” the Sheik informed Megan, even as his fingers inflicted unbearable tickle torture on her super sensitive soles. Megan wailed pitifully.
“PLEASE! I BEG YOU! STOP! PLEASE! ANYTHING YOU WANT! I’LL CRAWL FOR YOU, I’LL SUCK YOU, I’LL FUCK YOU ANY WAY YOU WANT! JUST STOP IT PLEASE!” Megan begged. Selima leaned forward and began to lick her underarms. Megan descended into tickle insanity.
************************************************
The Sheik had thoroughly enjoyed his Saturday. He was on the bed now, half asleep already. Sex with Megan had been absolutely fantastic, especially when tickling was involved. Megan was riding his manhood now, rhythmically rising and falling on her haunches slowly. He groaned with intense pleasure at her ministrations.
Her arms were bound behind her back, her left hand clasping her right elbow and vice versa. Her ankles were tied to her thighs, making her kneel as she impaled herself upon his manhood. She was sobbing gently now, still unable to believe the perversions she was willing to degrade herself to perform, just to escape the horrible tickle torture. But it was worth it, she told herself. She would far rather degrade and humiliate herself than suffer more of this inhuman tickling!
She felt the Sheik’s hands caress her soles, then begin to lightly tickle them. She whimpered fearfully as the ticklish sensations assaulted her nerve endings. She began to ride her Master slightly faster. He chuckled evilly, and let his hands fall away. For the moment. His hands rested on her belly, lightly tickling, keeping Megan giggling helplessly even as she rose and fell upon her Master’s manhood. His finger entered her belly button, and she jerked helplessly in tickle torment. It was going a very pleasant night for the Sheik, but a horrible night for poor Megan.
********************************************
And the Sunday finale to round it all off... if you want it!
Megan stared in disbelief at the reflection in the mirror. Sure, she was a pretty girl, with a delightful smattering of freckles around her nose and cheeks, she had always known that. But the girl that stared back at her from the mirror wasn’t like her at all! The girl in the mirror was a sensual, gorgeous redhead who would have easily won Miss Ireland if she decided to take part!
The fact that the girl in the mirror was naked did not detract her beauty one bit. If anything, the bondage made her even more desirable, for it displayed her ample charms most enticingly. She was seated on the carpeted floor, her legs spread apart, feet encased in a pair of stocks that rendered her feet immobile. Her arms were bound behind her back, thrusting her beautiful breasts forward. Her red locks cascaded down her left shoulder, falling to just in front of her left breast. The makeup on her face was minimal, but a hint of blue eyeliner and pink mascara added a wonderful tone to her pale skin.
Then her eyes widened as Selima entered the room. She glided over to Megan, sat beside her, and began to caress her breasts. Megan whimpered at the touch and turned her face away. Selima cupped her face in her hand and turned Megan’s head to face her. “You look so beautiful today,” Selima complimented Megan. “I’m sure the Sheik will be most pleased with you,” she informed the bound beauty with a wicked smile. Megan shuddered at the smile.
Then the Sheik entered the room. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of Megan, for even though his harem consisted of the most beautiful and ticklish women across the globe, Megan stood out amongst them. Her beautiful red locks contrasted wonderfully with her pale, near-white flesh, and the curves of her body were unbelievably sexy. Megan squirmed and blushed under the Sheik’s scrutiny.
“Pretty, isn’t she?” Selima remarked to the Sheik.
“Oh, my, yes,” the Sheik answered hoarsely, still unable to believe the vision of loveliness bound in front of him. “She’s more than pretty!” then his face twisted into an evil smile. “Is she ticklish?”
Selima’s return smile was just as wicked. “Sire, judge for yourself.”
He reached out a finger and brought it slowly towards her ribs. Megan whimpered and twisted her body away as far as her bonds would allow, but his finger grew closer and closer. Her face was a mixture of pleading and horror, an expression which brought much sadistic joy to the Sheik. His finger touched her ribcage, and let out a yelp at the ticklish touch. His finger began to wiggle ever so lightly.
Megan screwed her eyes shut, as she tried to shut out the ticklish sensations. “No please, sir! I beg you, please don’t tickle me,” Megan begged her owner. His response was to wiggle his finger harder into her defenceless ribcage, eliciting a chorus of musical giggles from Megan.
“Oooh, she’s really ticklish!” the Sheik marveled. “I like her even better now!” his other hand began to flutter over her belly, making Megan babble incoherently even as torrents of hysterical laughter emitted from her mouth.
“Yes, Sire,” Selima agreed with the Sheik. Her fingers were kneading Megan’s knees now, making the poor girl howl with ticklish agony. “She’s incredibly ticklish, one of the best we’ve had for a long time!” Then she smirked. “You should have heard what she was offering me, just to get a break from the tickling! Ooooh, just the thought of what she said makes me all hot!”
The Sheik moved his hands to Megan’s inner thighs. His fingers easily found her bikini line and he dug in with relish. Megan opened her mouth wide, but no sound came out. Tears of ticklish torment streamed down her cheeks, mixing with her mascara. “Well, well, let’s see if my lovely Saturday can offer me something nice, then maybe I’ll stop.”
Megan was half-crying, half-laughing. Her feet were still in the stocks, but her arms were now tied above her head. The Sheik was using the metal finger attachments to stroke her soles with the ball ends, every single stroke sending ticklish sensations exploding on her soles. He was enjoying himself very much.
Selima was seated behind Megan, expertly working her outstretched underarms. A light stroke here, a brief wiggle there, a constant pressure on the hollows. Whatever Selima did, Megan suffered horribly. Selima dug her fingers into Megan’s underarms, wiggling away sadistically. Megan whooped and burst out into hysterical laughter.
“I just love the way your breasts jiggle,” the Sheik informed Megan, even as his fingers inflicted unbearable tickle torture on her super sensitive soles. Megan wailed pitifully.
“PLEASE! I BEG YOU! STOP! PLEASE! ANYTHING YOU WANT! I’LL CRAWL FOR YOU, I’LL SUCK YOU, I’LL FUCK YOU ANY WAY YOU WANT! JUST STOP IT PLEASE!” Megan begged. Selima leaned forward and began to lick her underarms. Megan descended into tickle insanity.
************************************************
The Sheik had thoroughly enjoyed his Saturday. He was on the bed now, half asleep already. Sex with Megan had been absolutely fantastic, especially when tickling was involved. Megan was riding his manhood now, rhythmically rising and falling on her haunches slowly. He groaned with intense pleasure at her ministrations.
Her arms were bound behind her back, her left hand clasping her right elbow and vice versa. Her ankles were tied to her thighs, making her kneel as she impaled herself upon his manhood. She was sobbing gently now, still unable to believe the perversions she was willing to degrade herself to perform, just to escape the horrible tickle torture. But it was worth it, she told herself. She would far rather degrade and humiliate herself than suffer more of this inhuman tickling!
She felt the Sheik’s hands caress her soles, then begin to lightly tickle them. She whimpered fearfully as the ticklish sensations assaulted her nerve endings. She began to ride her Master slightly faster. He chuckled evilly, and let his hands fall away. For the moment. His hands rested on her belly, lightly tickling, keeping Megan giggling helplessly even as she rose and fell upon her Master’s manhood. His finger entered her belly button, and she jerked helplessly in tickle torment. It was going a very pleasant night for the Sheik, but a horrible night for poor Megan.
********************************************
And the Sunday finale to round it all off... if you want it!
