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Results 1 to 4 of 4
  1. #1
    Join Date
    Feb 2006

    Temple of the Torture Goddess Part 15 (ff/m - tickling, teasing, denial)

    Hello good and genrous TMF’ers

    Part 15 of “Temple of the Torture Goddess” picks up rght where Part 14 left off, with our hapless male narrator — after being dosed with a devilish orgasm preventing potion by his domineering Mistress Foxy — facing the next stage of his punishment.

    The saga up to this point…
    Part 1
    Part 2
    Part 3
    Part 4
    Part 5
    Part 6
    Part 7
    Part 8
    Part 9
    Part 10
    Part 11
    Part 12
    Part 13
    Part 14

    As always, many, many thanks to all you readers and commentors.

    This installment is a relatively short one, and in addition to tickling, contains teasing, denial, and some (mild) sexual stuff.

    Let’s get to it. Hope you enjoy.

    Temple of the Torture Goddess — Part 15

    Blindfolded, still reeling from Mistress Kyndall’s treatment, and far outnumbered, I was absolutely helpless. My back was shoved against some sort of padded surface, the cuffs taken off my wrists, arms grabbed and stretched up and out, like a Y. Straps were fastened around my wrists. They spread my legs apart, strapping my ankles down. When it was all done, I felt I was leaning back at perhaps a 45 degree angle, strapped spread-eagled to a padded surface. I heard the footsteps of the guards as they withdrew, the creek and click of a door being opened and closed.

    “Where am I?” I cried. “Who’s there?” I turned my head back and forth, trying to dislodge the blindfold. I tested the straps that held me down. “Hello?” No one responded. I forced myself to hold very still, listening for anything that might indicate where I was, or if anyone was in there with me. All I heard was my own breathing.

    But I could only make my body lie still for so long. I was so wound up from Mistress Kyndell’s treatment that I felt I had to move, as of doing so would bring some relief to the burning arousal that gripped me. Though I knew it was futile, I resumed tugging at the straps. The guards had bound me pretty tight, my limbs spread wide and stretched to their furthest extent. I grunted and gasped as I yanked on the bindings, throwing my body back and forth as much as I could.

    But then my own noises were drowned out by an hysterical shriek. In moments I seemed to be surrounded by laughter. These weren’t like the soft, breathy giggles I had heard coming from Vicki earlier: these were screams, shrieks, crazed cackling and explosive howls, sometimes interspersed with desperate begging. It sounded like the tormented sounds of several different women.

    Panicked, I whipped my head back-and-forth, heaving against the straps. I couldn’t figure out where the sounds were coming from; I could have sworn I had been left alone. I forced myself to calm down, trying to tame my body’s natural instinct to flee. Though the screams and laughter were quite distinct, there was something removed about them. I couldn’t hear the gasps for breath, the little moans, the creak or a rack or the rattle of chains. I couldn’t smell the sweat or feel the body heat of either the victims or the torturers. I realized what I was hearing was probably filtering in my room from somewhere else, perhaps vents in the walls or ceiling.

    The noises stopped as abruptly as they had started. The sudden hush was alarming. For several moments I lay there, my own breathing sounding particularly loud to my ears. Then I heard a door open and close, the rustle of clothing…

    “Who is it?” I said. “Who’s there?”

    “It’s just us,” said a voice. “My name is Angulo.”

    “And I’m Camille,” said another woman.

    I felt the table or rack I was strapped to slowly tilt back until I was horizontal. I heard the rustle of robes again, and sensed the two women coming nearer. I tugged at the bindings. “It’s a shame you can’t see us with that blindfold on,” one of them said. It sounded like first woman who had spoken, the one who said her name was Angulo. “You’d like what you’d see.”

    “Then take it off,” I said.

    “But then again, not being able to see can enhance your other senses,” said the second woman. As if to underscore her point, I felt the two of them join me on the table, laying beside me. Though they didn’t press up against me — not yet at least — their skin brushed mine, and I could feel the warmth of their bodies near me. A hand slid down my left leg, making me gasp and jump. A single finger touched down in my right armpit and began drawing little tickly circles as I and squirmed.

    Then the woman on my right, the one playing in my underarm, pressed herself against me, and confirmed what my senses had only suspected — she was naked, or at least nearly so. I cried out at the sudden contact of all that soft, warm skin. Her hand lightly tickled across my chest and rib cage.

    “Feel something you like?” she said. When she spoke, her voice was quite close to my right ear. I flinched at her warm breath. “If you were able to see us, would that make it worse for you?”

    I felt the body of the second woman — Camille? — drape itself around my left leg. A pair of hands enfolded my foot, hot breath bathed my toes. As she rubbed against my leg, I could tell she wasn’t wearing much either. She started fondling and stroking my foot, nuzzling my toes. She was obviously lying with her head at my feet. Something slid up my left side and wriggled into my underarm. As the giggles bubbled out of me I realized she was tickling me with her toes.

    Angulo, on my right side, was running her hand all over my upper body now. Her fingers flickered and fluttered across my chest and heaving stomach, poked and prodded my ribs, danced in my armpit. “… ohh-ho-ho-ho… oh stop… hee-hee-hee…” Their touches were on the light side — neither girl really dug in for some prolonged tickling, or if they did, it wasn’t for very long — somewhat like the torment I had witnessed Mistress Kyndell inflicting on Vicki earlier. But there were two of them, of course, and not being able to see anything enhanced the ticklish sensations turning me into a quivering, giggling wreck. Yet perhaps the worst aspect of what they were doing to me was what they weren’t doing to me. Mistress Kyndell’s feather treatment had left me wound up and even more hyper-sensitive than usual. I was yearning for more of that, even though I knew that under the influence of the Nectar of Rhiannon, such treatment would bring no relief.

    “… no-hohohoho… no mohrr… no-hohoho… finish me-heeheehee!…”

    I heard Angulo’s voice next to me. “Priestess Parvati gave us very strict instructions on how to treat you. Of course, that was before we knew that Mistress Foxy made you take the Nectar of Rhiannon. Now, even if we were permitted to grant you the Goddess’ mercy, we couldn’t.”

    Camille chuckled. “Listen to him suffer,” she said. “What we heard about him must be true. I wonder… if Mistress Foxy hadn’t slipped him the Nectar of Rhiannon, do you think he would have lasted this long?”

    “Are you questioning Priestess Parvati’s training, Camille?”

    “You know I’m not, Angulo. I just wonder how long someone so ticklish and so susceptible to this kind of treatment can really hold out.”

    “I’m sure we could have done it,” Angulo said. “It’s just too bad Mistress Foxy had to give him that stuff. We can’t show our mistress what we’ve learned. It’s not our devotion to the teachings of the Goddess that keeps him suffering, it’s the Nectar of Rhiannon.”

    “That’s true. But then again, it lets us please the Goddess even more. If he cannot achieve the sweet relief he craves, then there is no need for us to… modify our treatment, is there? We can be as zealous in our worship of the Goddess as we wish to be, without worrying that it would be too much.”

    “Oh, I agree.”

    “So I could do this…”

    Something slid up the underside of my shaft. “…YAAA!!!…” My hips shot off the surface of the table. As I squealed and squirmed, my mind reeled, trying to figure out what was teasing me like that. Soft and warm, it was too clumsy to be a hand, but devastating enough as it rubbed and wriggled…

    “Can you guess what I’m doing to you?” Camille said. “Hmm?”

    “…ohhh gawds!… heeheehee… pleezz stop!…”

    “Tell me what I’m doing.”

    “… ahahaha… your foot!… ohhhohohoit’s your foot!…”

    Camille laughed. “Very good.”

    “… ohhh… mistress… please stop… hahahaha… I can’t t-take it!…”

    My shaft jumped under the teasing caress of Camille's bare foot, soft toes stroking up and down as I cried out and moaned. A few times, she’d use those toes to tickle my balls with seemingly impossible dexterity. I’d scream at these unexpected attacks, my hips bucking uncontrollably. Angulo, meanwhile, still continued dancing her fingers all over my torso, constantly varying her technique. One moment she’d work her way into my underarms, a few moments later she’d be teasing a nipple, a few moments later she’d be raking her nails down my stomach…

    “…ohh! …ohho-ho-ho!… pleeez… aahahaha!… get Mistress Foxy!… aaahahaha!… tell her I g-give!… hahaha!… just whip me!… anything!… haahaahaa!… I can’t stand this anymore!…”

    “You were sentenced to this ordeal by High Priestess Tanya,” Camille said, her voice kind. “Your mistress could not stop it, even if she were inclined to mercy, and we all know she is not…”

    She trapped my shaft between her two soft arches, rubbing up and down. “… AHHHAHAHAHA!… OHH GAWDS!…AHHH!… STOP! STOP!… MERCEEE!…”

    “Mercy is not ours to give,” said Camille. “Perhaps you can take some comfort in knowing how much you are pleasing the Goddess right now…”

    Camille withdrew her feet, using her toes to stroke my inner thighs. Though my shaft was mercifully free of attention, it didn’t do much to abate the hell of ticklish pleasure consuming me. The women continued to dance their fingers and hands all over my quivering, wriggling body, wringing gust after gust of laughter from me.

    “I doubt he could have made it through that without the Nectar of Rhiannon,” I heard Angulo say. “I’m sure the Goddess is pleased with you, Camille.”

    “I’m sure the Goddess is pleased with both of us, Angulo.”

    “I’d like to think so.” Her hands left my body. I sensed her sitting up or standing up; I didn’t know which. “Still, I’d like to show the Goddess how strong my devotion is…”

    “And what do you…” The words caught in her throat as she let out a little surprised “oh.” She chuckled. “I don’t know, Angulo… that might break him.” I couldn’t feel Camille’s feet on me anymore, but she continued to casually tickle and fondle my own feet.

    “I thought that was the point,” Angulo said.

    “Not before his ordeal is complete. And I don’t think that’s what our mistresses had in mind.”

    I tossed my head from side to side, trying desperately to shake off the blindfold or even just peek underneath. “What… what are you doing…?” I spluttered.

    Angulo ignored me. “Well, as you said earlier, Camille, the Nectar of Rhiannon frees us from caution or restraint in our devotion to the Goddess. It also allows us to share in her pleasure. Both of us.”

    “But it might make him do a little sharing, too.”

    “You know it won’t,” Angulo said. I felt her straddle my hips, strong thighs on either side of me…

    Earlier, when Camille had been playing with me, it had taken me a moment or two before I realized she was using her foot. Now, I had no doubt what Angulo was doing. I screamed as she mounted me.“No! Don’t! Mistress Please! I’ll go crazee…!”

    An animalistic howl of despair and pleasure burst from me, my world shattering to pieces as Angulo slowly began to roll her hips. Though I could barely move with Angulo on top of me, pinning me down, my hips bucked as if they had a mind of their own. We fell into a rhythm even as I thrashed back-and-forth and moaned underneath her. “Ohhh… ohhh!…”

    Though Angulo’s rolling hips maintained a steady tempo, her breathing became more rapid and louder. A low moan escaped her lips, then another. She seemed to hold her breath for a moment, then suddenly let it out in a loud cry. I felt the muscles in her thighs tense up and tremble. Another cry, a heavy sigh, and then all the tension seemed to drain out of her. She slumped forward, panting, bracing herself on my chest. I heard her panting. “Oh great Zyriss,” she gasped. “Mmm… now that was sharing in the pleasure of the Goddess…”

    But I was still trying to bounce underneath her, straining to lift my hips upward. Even Camille still playing with my feet and making me laugh couldn’t distract me. To my surprise, in short while Angulo begin rolling and grinding on me again.

    “What are you doing?” Camille said.

    “… mmmm… the Goddess must indeed be pleased,” Angulo said. “I don’t think she’s done sharing her pleasure with me yet…” She started tickling my stomach and sides as she rode me. Shrieking with laughter, I strained with every fiber of my body to come. Relief seemed so close, roiling up inside me with such force that it felt like I would go mad or be torn to pieces if it wasn’t let out…

    And suddenly, I knew it was going to happen. I didn’t know how it happened — they had told me, of course, that under the influence of the Nectar of Rhiannon I couldn’t climax — but what I was feeling was unmistakable. “Ohhh!… OHHHH!…”

    Over the steadily increasing roar in my ears, I heard Camille’s voice raised in alarm. “Angulo! Angulo stop!”

    “… wait… I have one more… then you can…”

    “No! No! Get off him, you fool! He’s gonna…”

    “What?!” The blindfold was torn off me. For the briefest moment I had a blurry impression of a beautiful face with dusky skin surrounded by black hair, and brown eyes that flashed with anger. Hands gripped my shoulders. “No! No!” Angulo screamed at me. “Stop!”

    But I was way past the point of no return, and couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to. I no longer feared what might happen to me, whether my ordeal would continue or what form it might take. All that existed for me was the incredibly powerful sensation that made my body arch off the padded surface I was strapped to, that seemed to hold me in its grip and shake me. Angulo’s face above me faded into a blur, her angry shouts grew distant and muffled, then were drowned out by my own cries…

    And in the instant before the tidal wave of ecstasy came crashing down on me and obliterated all thought, I recalled what Vicki had said to me about the Nectar of Rhiannon — …it’s almost impossible for you to come. Almost impossible. Almost…

    Considering the intensity of my climax, I was surprised to find that not a lot of time had elapsed when I came to. Though my eyes were closed, I could feel that I was still bound to the rack. I heard several voices, the words indecipherable in my semi-conscious state, but the tone unmistakably angry. I heard the crack of the pleasure whip, followed by a piercing scream, a wailing moan. I opened my eyes, raised my head. The room swam before me.

    I had a fleeting, hazy glimpse of two women dangling by their wrists from chains. Nearer to me I saw the blurry shapes of several priestesses in what sounded like a heated argument. The color of their robes stood out more than their features — two hazy blotches of scarlet were, judging by the voices, Vonda and Tanya. Another priestess was also there. One fuzzy shape detached itself from the group, moving my way, only coming into focus when she leaned over me — Foxy. Her face was inches from mine. “Drink,” she hissed. Another vial. She grabbed the back of my head and poured the contents down my throat, then let my head fall back onto the padding.

    I tried to raise my head again, tried to open my eyes, but the effort proved too much. Whatever Foxy had slipped me this time didn’t taste like the Nectar of Rhiannon — it was thicker, more syrupy — but that was the only thought I had before I surrendered to exhaustion.
    Last edited by jmills; 09-07-2018 at 02:51 PM. Reason: fixed link

  2. #2
    Join Date
    Jan 2002
    NY City
    Blog Entries
    Great story! I love tease and denial.
    <== the sacred soles of Goddess Shelly

    A link to my stories on the TMF.

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  3. #3
    Join Date
    Sep 2014
    Victoria, Australia
    Oh, oh dear. What has our poor man gotten himself into this time?

  4. #4
    Join Date
    Jul 2014
    That was pretty awesome

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