Hello All,
I asked my girlfriend to write about some of our recent experiences. She has happily accepted my offer and wrote about a recent session in wonderful detail. All feedback is welcome. If the reception is largely positive she may write more. The story is below.
We were snuggled up in bed together, my back against his chest, when he started pressing his groin into me. I laughed, knowing and loving where this was going. He moved his hand to my side and slowly started to wriggle his fingers. I tried to move away knowing the tickling would only ramp up in a few seconds but he had me trapped. He started tickling more aggressively and I could tell from his face that he was enjoying how much I was struggling and that this would not be a quick tickle fight.
The more he tickled me the harder I laughed and the more he teased me. He started with my sides but worked his way to under my arms-- my weak spot recently. He started by lightly grazing his fingers on my skin, letting me squirm as I waited for him to start the real tickle attack. He was taunting me and enjoying how it distressed me. There was no reason for him to rush and he knew it.
He continued to graze his fingers under my arms, counting down to when he would start tickling again. He got to "one" and wriggled his fingers under my arms aggressively again. His eyes got big when he saw how much harder I was laughing while he tickled and wiggled his fingers under there. Immediately it felt like the laughs were being poured out of me. I could do nothing to make them stop. The slightest touch and the most aggressive at this point did about the same thing. All I could do was take it and gasp for breath every chance I got.
He swung his leg over me so that I was pinned, straddled, and at his mercy. He started running his fingertips up and down my pinned arms that were now being held with one of his hands over my head. I laughed nervously, scared of a new set of tickles but grateful for a chance to rest and catch my breath all the same. He asked me if I liked being tickled like this. I laughed in disbelief. He knows I hate being tickled and that asking was just another way to torture me.
"Oh is that a yes?"
He started tickling under my arms again, no longer presenting me with the pretense of teasing and toying. He continued to tickle me and I could do nothing but laugh and gasp for breath. The giggles I was letting out felt like bubbles being let out and popped from me. Even though he was tickling my underarms, I could feel the bubbles coming from my toes up my legs, shooting up my sides, up to my arms, and out of me in desperate giggles. I don't know how long he continued to tickle me like that. It could have been a few seconds longer it could have been days-- that's how bad it was. Regardless without warning it stopped and I could finally breathe, close my now dry mouth, and open my eyes.
He had gotten off of me and was standing up near me at the edge of the bed. He told me to take off my clothes and I did as he said immediately for fear of punishment by tickles again. I was undressed and back on the bed where he had left me in no time. He asked me to move over to the edge closest to him and to close my eyes. I obeyed and felt the blindfold we use being put over my head and eyes. I heard some more rummaging away from me but could feel him back at my side soon after. He held my arm closest to him down to the bed and I felt it being handcuffed down. He came over above me and strapped down my other arm.
Being blindfolded made me hyperaware of my surroundings. It's on the one hand comforting knowing that my other senses were coming to my aid at this moment but on the other, all the more harrowing feeling the slightest sensation and sound as a threat. I was doing my best to control my breathing and relax, after all there was not much I could do in my position but found it difficult as I considered all the worst case scenarios I could be facing.
I felt him get on to the bed now, at the foot of the bed, and more importantly, near my feet. I felt my body tense as I prepared for what I knew was coming. Sure enough I heard the sound of bristles brush his sweatpants as he removed his trusty brush tool of torture from his pocket. Without thinking, I started to beg him not to use it.
"Please, no, please, no I've been such a good girl. Please no, no brush. Please."
My pleas were fruitless and within seconds he had one of my feet in his firm grip and was using the brush he held in his other hand scratching at the bottoms of my feet. I wriggled and squirmed doing my best to free my foot from his grip but he just held onto me tighter. I laughed and laughed and felt my watering eyes press against the blindfold. Again, there was nothing I could do and he knew it, counted on it, to torture me. He continued using the brush to tickle the bottoms of my feet and slowly started inching his way towards my toes, where the brush feels the worst.
He started moving the brush from side to side, letting the bristles get in between my toes as I continued to struggle against him and laugh and laugh and laugh. This was going to be a long night.
I asked my girlfriend to write about some of our recent experiences. She has happily accepted my offer and wrote about a recent session in wonderful detail. All feedback is welcome. If the reception is largely positive she may write more. The story is below.
We were snuggled up in bed together, my back against his chest, when he started pressing his groin into me. I laughed, knowing and loving where this was going. He moved his hand to my side and slowly started to wriggle his fingers. I tried to move away knowing the tickling would only ramp up in a few seconds but he had me trapped. He started tickling more aggressively and I could tell from his face that he was enjoying how much I was struggling and that this would not be a quick tickle fight.
The more he tickled me the harder I laughed and the more he teased me. He started with my sides but worked his way to under my arms-- my weak spot recently. He started by lightly grazing his fingers on my skin, letting me squirm as I waited for him to start the real tickle attack. He was taunting me and enjoying how it distressed me. There was no reason for him to rush and he knew it.
He continued to graze his fingers under my arms, counting down to when he would start tickling again. He got to "one" and wriggled his fingers under my arms aggressively again. His eyes got big when he saw how much harder I was laughing while he tickled and wiggled his fingers under there. Immediately it felt like the laughs were being poured out of me. I could do nothing to make them stop. The slightest touch and the most aggressive at this point did about the same thing. All I could do was take it and gasp for breath every chance I got.
He swung his leg over me so that I was pinned, straddled, and at his mercy. He started running his fingertips up and down my pinned arms that were now being held with one of his hands over my head. I laughed nervously, scared of a new set of tickles but grateful for a chance to rest and catch my breath all the same. He asked me if I liked being tickled like this. I laughed in disbelief. He knows I hate being tickled and that asking was just another way to torture me.
"Oh is that a yes?"
He started tickling under my arms again, no longer presenting me with the pretense of teasing and toying. He continued to tickle me and I could do nothing but laugh and gasp for breath. The giggles I was letting out felt like bubbles being let out and popped from me. Even though he was tickling my underarms, I could feel the bubbles coming from my toes up my legs, shooting up my sides, up to my arms, and out of me in desperate giggles. I don't know how long he continued to tickle me like that. It could have been a few seconds longer it could have been days-- that's how bad it was. Regardless without warning it stopped and I could finally breathe, close my now dry mouth, and open my eyes.
He had gotten off of me and was standing up near me at the edge of the bed. He told me to take off my clothes and I did as he said immediately for fear of punishment by tickles again. I was undressed and back on the bed where he had left me in no time. He asked me to move over to the edge closest to him and to close my eyes. I obeyed and felt the blindfold we use being put over my head and eyes. I heard some more rummaging away from me but could feel him back at my side soon after. He held my arm closest to him down to the bed and I felt it being handcuffed down. He came over above me and strapped down my other arm.
Being blindfolded made me hyperaware of my surroundings. It's on the one hand comforting knowing that my other senses were coming to my aid at this moment but on the other, all the more harrowing feeling the slightest sensation and sound as a threat. I was doing my best to control my breathing and relax, after all there was not much I could do in my position but found it difficult as I considered all the worst case scenarios I could be facing.
I felt him get on to the bed now, at the foot of the bed, and more importantly, near my feet. I felt my body tense as I prepared for what I knew was coming. Sure enough I heard the sound of bristles brush his sweatpants as he removed his trusty brush tool of torture from his pocket. Without thinking, I started to beg him not to use it.
"Please, no, please, no I've been such a good girl. Please no, no brush. Please."
My pleas were fruitless and within seconds he had one of my feet in his firm grip and was using the brush he held in his other hand scratching at the bottoms of my feet. I wriggled and squirmed doing my best to free my foot from his grip but he just held onto me tighter. I laughed and laughed and felt my watering eyes press against the blindfold. Again, there was nothing I could do and he knew it, counted on it, to torture me. He continued using the brush to tickle the bottoms of my feet and slowly started inching his way towards my toes, where the brush feels the worst.
He started moving the brush from side to side, letting the bristles get in between my toes as I continued to struggle against him and laugh and laugh and laugh. This was going to be a long night.
