AnnieHall
01-07-2006, 03:51 AM
Aloha. Well after doing some thinking I've finally come up with a second part to my first attempt at tickle-fiction. I have a feeling this is going to be a multiple part series of some sort. But anyway. It starts off exactly where I left off so if you haven't read part one yet...
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=71711
Also, I still haven't thought of a title, so if any of you have some ideas/suggestions...
--------------------------------------------------
“Mairead, we’ve been going out for quite some time, you know…” he said, picking up speed with his right index finger in my left armpit.
“And in that time you’ve been *quite* a mean girl…”
I was gasping and squirming and biting my lip, trying to keep as much composure as humanly possible. Part of me was having a blast, but part of me wanted to escape. Part of me was excited, and still another part was almost getting pissed off.
“I don’t know…” I trailed off. It wasn’t exactly easy to concentrate at this point.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But I did.
Jesus Christ, this is maddening.
“I think you do. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” he replied almost before I had gotten my sentence out.
He really is taking quite a liking to this little fetish of mine. Almost *too* much of a liking.
“You take every chance you get to be a smart-ass. Every chance to say something sarcastic…”
He still had my wrists in one of his hands, but he stopped the tickling. I felt him shift his weight in the dark and shuffle around somewhere below the bed.
He stopped? What the heck…
He went back to straddling me and I heard a noise like metal clinking against metal.
My eyes were open as wide as I thought I could make them, pupils dilated as big as saucers, but all I saw was black. A shadow here, something move. I was never sure. I could just barely make out the outline of his head and shoulders hovering over me. My breathing was quick and heavy, not really out of exhaustion but more of a nervous excitement.
He leaned forward and put both of his hands around my wrists. He was fiddling with something around the bars at the head of the bed. Something cold and hard rubbed against my hands and I felt and heard a click.
He brushed past my ear and whispered…
“You think you’re so funny.”
He’s not wrong. I do think I’m hilarious. Maybe more than others do, but I crack myself up.
It was too soon to show weakness yet, so I replied smugly, “Don’t deny it. I’m frick’n hilarious.”
He sat up while he brought both of his hands down from my wrist to the inside of my elbow and finally to as close to my underarms as he could without actually touching them.
I pulled my arms. They didn’t come down.
What the hell? Handcuffs? Are you serious…
It never occurred to me that he would have, let alone use, any form of bondage, however heavy or light, but I did kind of ask for this.
“I would say this is no laughing matter, but that won’t be true for you much longer.”
I wish he could see me rolling my eyes. What a dumb line.
“You have such a dominant personality. All your comments and jokes. You always have something to say. You’re too quick-witted for your own good if you ask me…”
He was massaging the insides of my triceps, which to my surprise tickled quite a bit. I bit my lip until I tasted blood. No way was I going to let him win just yet.
“You know, not everyone is as smart as you. Not everyone can come up with the shit you say. And I think it’s pretty funny, this little interest of yours. I mean, it makes sense. You’re just waiting and hoping one day someone will have had enough of your talk. That they’ll just snap and leave you a limp, giggling mess like I plan to do.”
He sighed, and then let out a small chuckle.
“Mairead, do you even know what you’re in for?”
Something about the way he said that made a tiny pang of fear explode in my chest. He was so confident, almost with a hint of pity in his voice. As if to say “poor girl. Poor, stupid girl.”
I was scared. Yes. Me. Downright frightened. I mean, here I was, practically immobile, every movement futile. I could just barely bend my elbows, slightly. I was lying there. Laid out perfectly. Flesh covered in goose bumps just waiting, almost preparing itself for the attack that lingered somewhere in the near future. Maybe I didn’t know what I was in for.
He stopped the cruel massage at my triceps and brushed the hair out of my face and away from my neck. I tensed up when his fingers brushed the side of it. He must have felt it too because he said, “Don’t worry, we’ll save that spot for later.”
He was doing it all wrong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This was supposed to be fun. But it was. Not frustrating. It was that too. I’m not supposed to have to listen to his make-believe scolding about what a smart ass I’ve been. He’s not supposed to enjoy it this much.
He stood up and got off the bed. He left the room and put the dogs out. Came back and locked the bedroom door.
The shadow of him looked like a giant hovering over me. He got back into his old position, straddling my hips.
He pulled my shirt up over my head. Now, I couldn’t even see his shadow, but I could just feel him smiling wickedly.
“I’ve turned off all the phones and the dogs are outside. No interruptions. Just you and me!”
At the very moment he said “me” his hands shot straight for my ribs. My arms were above and behind me, leaving every rib defined, vulnerable and open for attack. Inhaling was worse. I could feel my ribcage pushing harder against my skin, almost taunting him.
Each of his fingers instantly found a different hollow spot in between two ribs and he began rubbing the skin against the bone, slowly, then faster.
I arched my back, but his weight on top of me kept me from any real movement. I shook my head, gasping and whimpering. Laughter was dancing at the back of my throat.
ShitFuckShitFuckHolyJesusFuck
I exploded in a barrage of machine-gun-fire laughter, every “ha” seemed to ricochet off the walls. I inhaled with a squeal and exhaled in another shower of giggles.
The heels of my feet dug into the mattress as I tried to push him off of me, all to no avail.
He continued his assault on my ribs for a bit longer until I thought my cheek muscles might pop out of my face. I felt his fingers slow down and then stop altogether.
Oh my God. What is wrong with this guy? He’s crazy. Definitely, for sure. Wait, I think he’s done. Good.
“Oh, don’t get too relaxed. That was just the warm-up. I’ve got a few things in mind for you before I unlock those handcuffs.”
He got off of me again and I felt him pull each of my ankles through the bars at the end of the bed frame. He tied each one securely with some piece of cloth I couldn’t make out.
What is this guy? A professional boy scout? Jeez.
“Hope you’re…” he trailed a single finger down the length of each foot, “ready…”
http://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?t=71711
Also, I still haven't thought of a title, so if any of you have some ideas/suggestions...
--------------------------------------------------
“Mairead, we’ve been going out for quite some time, you know…” he said, picking up speed with his right index finger in my left armpit.
“And in that time you’ve been *quite* a mean girl…”
I was gasping and squirming and biting my lip, trying to keep as much composure as humanly possible. Part of me was having a blast, but part of me wanted to escape. Part of me was excited, and still another part was almost getting pissed off.
“I don’t know…” I trailed off. It wasn’t exactly easy to concentrate at this point.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But I did.
Jesus Christ, this is maddening.
“I think you do. I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” he replied almost before I had gotten my sentence out.
He really is taking quite a liking to this little fetish of mine. Almost *too* much of a liking.
“You take every chance you get to be a smart-ass. Every chance to say something sarcastic…”
He still had my wrists in one of his hands, but he stopped the tickling. I felt him shift his weight in the dark and shuffle around somewhere below the bed.
He stopped? What the heck…
He went back to straddling me and I heard a noise like metal clinking against metal.
My eyes were open as wide as I thought I could make them, pupils dilated as big as saucers, but all I saw was black. A shadow here, something move. I was never sure. I could just barely make out the outline of his head and shoulders hovering over me. My breathing was quick and heavy, not really out of exhaustion but more of a nervous excitement.
He leaned forward and put both of his hands around my wrists. He was fiddling with something around the bars at the head of the bed. Something cold and hard rubbed against my hands and I felt and heard a click.
He brushed past my ear and whispered…
“You think you’re so funny.”
He’s not wrong. I do think I’m hilarious. Maybe more than others do, but I crack myself up.
It was too soon to show weakness yet, so I replied smugly, “Don’t deny it. I’m frick’n hilarious.”
He sat up while he brought both of his hands down from my wrist to the inside of my elbow and finally to as close to my underarms as he could without actually touching them.
I pulled my arms. They didn’t come down.
What the hell? Handcuffs? Are you serious…
It never occurred to me that he would have, let alone use, any form of bondage, however heavy or light, but I did kind of ask for this.
“I would say this is no laughing matter, but that won’t be true for you much longer.”
I wish he could see me rolling my eyes. What a dumb line.
“You have such a dominant personality. All your comments and jokes. You always have something to say. You’re too quick-witted for your own good if you ask me…”
He was massaging the insides of my triceps, which to my surprise tickled quite a bit. I bit my lip until I tasted blood. No way was I going to let him win just yet.
“You know, not everyone is as smart as you. Not everyone can come up with the shit you say. And I think it’s pretty funny, this little interest of yours. I mean, it makes sense. You’re just waiting and hoping one day someone will have had enough of your talk. That they’ll just snap and leave you a limp, giggling mess like I plan to do.”
He sighed, and then let out a small chuckle.
“Mairead, do you even know what you’re in for?”
Something about the way he said that made a tiny pang of fear explode in my chest. He was so confident, almost with a hint of pity in his voice. As if to say “poor girl. Poor, stupid girl.”
I was scared. Yes. Me. Downright frightened. I mean, here I was, practically immobile, every movement futile. I could just barely bend my elbows, slightly. I was lying there. Laid out perfectly. Flesh covered in goose bumps just waiting, almost preparing itself for the attack that lingered somewhere in the near future. Maybe I didn’t know what I was in for.
He stopped the cruel massage at my triceps and brushed the hair out of my face and away from my neck. I tensed up when his fingers brushed the side of it. He must have felt it too because he said, “Don’t worry, we’ll save that spot for later.”
He was doing it all wrong. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This was supposed to be fun. But it was. Not frustrating. It was that too. I’m not supposed to have to listen to his make-believe scolding about what a smart ass I’ve been. He’s not supposed to enjoy it this much.
He stood up and got off the bed. He left the room and put the dogs out. Came back and locked the bedroom door.
The shadow of him looked like a giant hovering over me. He got back into his old position, straddling my hips.
He pulled my shirt up over my head. Now, I couldn’t even see his shadow, but I could just feel him smiling wickedly.
“I’ve turned off all the phones and the dogs are outside. No interruptions. Just you and me!”
At the very moment he said “me” his hands shot straight for my ribs. My arms were above and behind me, leaving every rib defined, vulnerable and open for attack. Inhaling was worse. I could feel my ribcage pushing harder against my skin, almost taunting him.
Each of his fingers instantly found a different hollow spot in between two ribs and he began rubbing the skin against the bone, slowly, then faster.
I arched my back, but his weight on top of me kept me from any real movement. I shook my head, gasping and whimpering. Laughter was dancing at the back of my throat.
ShitFuckShitFuckHolyJesusFuck
I exploded in a barrage of machine-gun-fire laughter, every “ha” seemed to ricochet off the walls. I inhaled with a squeal and exhaled in another shower of giggles.
The heels of my feet dug into the mattress as I tried to push him off of me, all to no avail.
He continued his assault on my ribs for a bit longer until I thought my cheek muscles might pop out of my face. I felt his fingers slow down and then stop altogether.
Oh my God. What is wrong with this guy? He’s crazy. Definitely, for sure. Wait, I think he’s done. Good.
“Oh, don’t get too relaxed. That was just the warm-up. I’ve got a few things in mind for you before I unlock those handcuffs.”
He got off of me again and I felt him pull each of my ankles through the bars at the end of the bed frame. He tied each one securely with some piece of cloth I couldn’t make out.
What is this guy? A professional boy scout? Jeez.
“Hope you’re…” he trailed a single finger down the length of each foot, “ready…”