Straps&Laughter
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- May 16, 2019
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The dice tumbled to a stop on the coffee table between the half-empty bottles of rum and the open cartons of Chinese food, and Dahlia cheered on the couch as Lindsey, Mack, Jenna, and I roared in good natured protest. The four matching numbers staring up at them ended the game and gave the redhead the win. In the middle space between Lindsey and Mack, Dahlia she stomped her Converses and wiggled her butt in a little victory dance. Her joy made Mack groan in exasperation and Lindsey whacked her in the arm with a throw pillow. Across the coffee table, Jenna shook her head in defeat and refilled her glass with coconut rum and pineapple juice.
From across the coffee table, I watched my girlfriend Dahlia enjoy her moment of triumph, trying to suppress a grin. She has no idea what’s about to happen.
It wasn’t like I planned it – well, not exactly. It was more like... I’d engineered a circumstance that was brimming with possibilities. Everyone gathered in the living room, warmed up by good rum and good companionship after a year of quarantining, were close and comfortable friends with few personal-space limits and flirtatious natures. Games, even silly ones like Farkle, brought out the good-natured competitive streak in all of them. Friends, flirting, food, booze, and competition. Primed and ready to go.
“Sam, weren’t you supposed to be good at this game?” Dahlia jabbed, eyes sparkling at me over the take-out cartons and winning dice, unknowingly sealing her own fate as her shit-talking brat side shone through.
Mack made an exaggerated O with his mouth and half-covered it with his hand, ever the hype man for whoever wanted to start a back-and-forth. Beside me, Jenna took off her black plastic glasses and cleaned the lenses with the hem of her crop-top, shaking her head with an incredulous smile.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, laughter in my voice, eyes flaring as I acknowledged her challenge.
“I mean, you taught us the game…” Dahlia drawled, crossing her ivory-white legs in her little shorts, and beside her, Lindsey snickered.
You’re. So. Done. For. I thought, and wondered briefly if the other four could feel the change in the room. The invisible spectrum of group dynamics was rising like a wave-swell, about to crest.
“Pretty proud of yourself for your third win in a row?” I taunted back. “You like beating all of us?”
“I do, actually!” Her sticking up for herself made Lindsey and Mack start laughing, and Jenna put her glasses back on before sweeping the dice off the table into a bag.
“Hey…” I asked, just enough intention in that one syllable to let Dahlia know the gears were turning in my mind, “Do you guys know Dahlia is… ticklish?”
It seemed to happen in slow motion. The look of realization on Lindsey’s and Mack’s face on either side of Dahlia, the blossom of sadistic intent in their eyes as Dahlia sat very still, locking eyes with me at the unexpected betrayal. The shift in temperature in the room. The air thickening with potential energy. Ambient noise from around the house seemed to simmer as the universe watched the situation teeter on the edge. It felt like a water balloon about to pop.
“Real dick move,” Dahlia muttered through grit teeth and a nervous giggle, carried to my ears on a wave of tension and embarrassment across the table.
Then she tried to bolt, and the wave broke.
As she tipped to her side, it was no trouble at all for Lindsey to pull Dahlia’s shoulders down into her lap. The panicked redhead flailed her legs to try and pull herself back up, but that just let Mack slip his strong arm under her knees and scoop them across his thighs. It almost would have looked like she intentionally lay down across them, if she wasn’t thrashing like a live wire and batting her arms at Lindsey trying to free herself.
“No!” she squealed as I stood up and walked around the coffee table. “Don’t you dare!”
But Lindsey – the gal who could be always trusted to break the physical barrier by swinging a throw-pillow or unexpectedly jumping onto a piggyback ride in the middle of a parking lot – wasn’t waiting for me. With one arm across Dahlia’s chest like the restraining bar on an amusement park ride, her free hand slid between the trapped woman’s arm and side to wriggle five fingers into her ribs.
Dahlia exploded, uncontrollable laughter broken by desperate shrieks as her “friend” accidentally tripped over one of her worst spots. Her legs kicked so hard Mack almost caught a knee to the face and he scrambled to pin them back down, shifting so Dahlia’s ankles were on the arm of the couch. Between them, my girlfriend’s hips writhed and bucked as the only free movement she had, making her tee shirt rise up just an inch as she struggled.
“Wow, you ARE ticklish!” Mack said, genuinely shocked. “How about here?”
He grabbed the top of her thigh, just under her hip. I knew that spot. I could make Dahlia fold into a ball by just slipping two fingers into the pocket of her jeans and pressing there – and here she was, stretched out straight with his guitar-player’s finger digging into it. Whatever sounds she was making from Lindsey’s exploration of her ribs was nothing compared to the laughter that ripped out of her as he grabbed that spot. Her body shook like she was being electrocuted and she shook her head back and forth in desperation, the only protest she could manage besides mouthing ‘no no no’ around her uncontrollable giggles.
I sat on the edge of the coffee table, right in front of her stretched out stomach, and looked right at her pleading eyes while I talked to everyone but here. “Wanna see something really evil?”
“SAM, DON’T!” she managed to shriek before laughter stole her ability to speak again - she knew what was coming.
“Pull her arms up, Linds.” I gave my girlfriend my most evil, intentional grin.
Lindsey grabbed Dahlia’s wrists and fought to pull them up over her head, but the redhead summoned the strength of five women to keep her elbows pinned to her sides. “No! NO! Please no – don’t I’m sorry! I didn’t win – you all win! I give up!”
Her protests just added to the ridiculousness of the situation, Lindsey and Mack laughing at her plight. It looked like she was winning her fight to keep her arms down, but Mack changed the pressure he was using on the tops of her thighs and in one squeal and jerk, she released her arms and Lindsey trapped them over her. Realizing her mistake, she tried to get them back down, but it was too late.
I leaned over and rested my fingers on her tee shirt, feeling for where the bra strap was, and started walking my fingers up one centimeter at a time on both sides. “There’s a spot… right… here!”
“Let me go let me go let me go!” Dahlia pleaded with Lindsey as she writhed, then broke into hysterical laughter as Mack started squeezing his way down her bare legs towards her knees. “Mack, no! Please!”
“Say please!” Lindsey taunted her, her voice loaded with amusement.
“UnnnhhhhFUCK! I’m saying please!” Dahlia squealed in protest, and somehow through her ticklish hell, she realized there was someone else in the room. “Jenna HELP!”
And then my fingers found The Spot.
Dahlia had this amazing moment when her giggles went up an octave and doubled in speed, reserved for when the three most ticklish spots on her body were exploited. It was the depths of ticklish agony and when my fingers slipped into her underarms, I was rewarded with that kind of laughter. Her face flushed and her whole writhing pattern changed. I stayed at it for twenty seconds and then paused, making sure she could breathe. As if on cue, Mack stopped squeezing too.
The beautiful redhead was done begging and pleading with us – she knew there wasn’t any mercy coming from her so-called friends or her boyfriend with the severe tickling kink. She gasped for air and whimpered at the hopelessness of her predicament. I thought sure we’d worn her out.
Dahlia’s eyes suddenly bugged out of her head and the panic returned, resignation to her fate evaporating in an instant. “JENNA, NO, PLEASE!”
I hadn’t heard Jenna move and had no idea what she could have done to inspire such terror – until I heard the telltale thud of one of Dahlia’s loosely laced, high-top Converses hitting the floor an Jenna’s cool-as ice reply. “Promise me a kiss and I won’t.”
Oh, that’s new. I wonder if she knows Dahlia has a crush on her? I would have loved to explore that further, but there would be time when this four-on-one tickling found its inevitable end.
Dahlia’s mistake was not blurting out a ‘yes’. The demand registered on her face as utter incredulity, a comic look that made Lindsey and Mack redouble their laughter at the absurdity of the whole situation – and then Janna raked five fingernails down Dahlia’s sole.
Dahlia came unglued. We rocketed right through struggle-to-hold-it-in, giggling while begging, and laughter, and silent hysteria while thrashing, in about four seconds. My girlfriend had never looked so incredibly hot. So I did the only thing I could.
I joined in.
And so did everybody else.
My fingers slid into Dahlia’s underarms as Lindsey lost her grip, and instead of trying to wrestle her arms back over her head, Lindsey reached down to attack the trapped redhead’s bare sides where her shirt had ridden up. Mack needed one arm to keep her from kicking her way free, and used the other to alternate squeezing her knees and thighs. Jenna attacked Dahlia’s soles with ten fingers like she had a lot of experience, either on the giving or receiving end, of that particular torture. It was a free-for-all.
When it ended and everyone moved out of flailing range, it took her minutes to compose herself. Lindsey and Mack headed to the kitchen to put away the leftover Chinese food and Jenna collected the rum bottles to move to the counter. I sat down next to my girlfriend and leaned against her.
“You okay?” I asked.
“No! You guys are the worst!” she said, loudly enough for everyone in the kitchen to hear, before lowering her voice for just the two of us. “I’m so wet right now. I need you to fuck me. Can you please fuck me? Now?”
* * * * * * * * * * *
This is fictional story about a real person, written with her enthusiastic consent - though I hesitate to call it fiction, because it is closer to a premonition of an inevitability. That's right, Dahlia... this *is* going to happen to you. Just wait!
For the real story about Dahlia's first experience on the receiving end of my tickling kink, you can read that here. In our years together she has willingly sacrificed her incredibly ticklish body to my evil explorations a number of times, restrained and unrestrained, and seems to get more ticklish every time... and will never admit it, but is falling in love with being tickled! So there are many more stories to tell. Thanks for everyone who reads and comments.
From across the coffee table, I watched my girlfriend Dahlia enjoy her moment of triumph, trying to suppress a grin. She has no idea what’s about to happen.
It wasn’t like I planned it – well, not exactly. It was more like... I’d engineered a circumstance that was brimming with possibilities. Everyone gathered in the living room, warmed up by good rum and good companionship after a year of quarantining, were close and comfortable friends with few personal-space limits and flirtatious natures. Games, even silly ones like Farkle, brought out the good-natured competitive streak in all of them. Friends, flirting, food, booze, and competition. Primed and ready to go.
“Sam, weren’t you supposed to be good at this game?” Dahlia jabbed, eyes sparkling at me over the take-out cartons and winning dice, unknowingly sealing her own fate as her shit-talking brat side shone through.
Mack made an exaggerated O with his mouth and half-covered it with his hand, ever the hype man for whoever wanted to start a back-and-forth. Beside me, Jenna took off her black plastic glasses and cleaned the lenses with the hem of her crop-top, shaking her head with an incredulous smile.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, laughter in my voice, eyes flaring as I acknowledged her challenge.
“I mean, you taught us the game…” Dahlia drawled, crossing her ivory-white legs in her little shorts, and beside her, Lindsey snickered.
You’re. So. Done. For. I thought, and wondered briefly if the other four could feel the change in the room. The invisible spectrum of group dynamics was rising like a wave-swell, about to crest.
“Pretty proud of yourself for your third win in a row?” I taunted back. “You like beating all of us?”
“I do, actually!” Her sticking up for herself made Lindsey and Mack start laughing, and Jenna put her glasses back on before sweeping the dice off the table into a bag.
“Hey…” I asked, just enough intention in that one syllable to let Dahlia know the gears were turning in my mind, “Do you guys know Dahlia is… ticklish?”
It seemed to happen in slow motion. The look of realization on Lindsey’s and Mack’s face on either side of Dahlia, the blossom of sadistic intent in their eyes as Dahlia sat very still, locking eyes with me at the unexpected betrayal. The shift in temperature in the room. The air thickening with potential energy. Ambient noise from around the house seemed to simmer as the universe watched the situation teeter on the edge. It felt like a water balloon about to pop.
“Real dick move,” Dahlia muttered through grit teeth and a nervous giggle, carried to my ears on a wave of tension and embarrassment across the table.
Then she tried to bolt, and the wave broke.
As she tipped to her side, it was no trouble at all for Lindsey to pull Dahlia’s shoulders down into her lap. The panicked redhead flailed her legs to try and pull herself back up, but that just let Mack slip his strong arm under her knees and scoop them across his thighs. It almost would have looked like she intentionally lay down across them, if she wasn’t thrashing like a live wire and batting her arms at Lindsey trying to free herself.
“No!” she squealed as I stood up and walked around the coffee table. “Don’t you dare!”
But Lindsey – the gal who could be always trusted to break the physical barrier by swinging a throw-pillow or unexpectedly jumping onto a piggyback ride in the middle of a parking lot – wasn’t waiting for me. With one arm across Dahlia’s chest like the restraining bar on an amusement park ride, her free hand slid between the trapped woman’s arm and side to wriggle five fingers into her ribs.
Dahlia exploded, uncontrollable laughter broken by desperate shrieks as her “friend” accidentally tripped over one of her worst spots. Her legs kicked so hard Mack almost caught a knee to the face and he scrambled to pin them back down, shifting so Dahlia’s ankles were on the arm of the couch. Between them, my girlfriend’s hips writhed and bucked as the only free movement she had, making her tee shirt rise up just an inch as she struggled.
“Wow, you ARE ticklish!” Mack said, genuinely shocked. “How about here?”
He grabbed the top of her thigh, just under her hip. I knew that spot. I could make Dahlia fold into a ball by just slipping two fingers into the pocket of her jeans and pressing there – and here she was, stretched out straight with his guitar-player’s finger digging into it. Whatever sounds she was making from Lindsey’s exploration of her ribs was nothing compared to the laughter that ripped out of her as he grabbed that spot. Her body shook like she was being electrocuted and she shook her head back and forth in desperation, the only protest she could manage besides mouthing ‘no no no’ around her uncontrollable giggles.
I sat on the edge of the coffee table, right in front of her stretched out stomach, and looked right at her pleading eyes while I talked to everyone but here. “Wanna see something really evil?”
“SAM, DON’T!” she managed to shriek before laughter stole her ability to speak again - she knew what was coming.
“Pull her arms up, Linds.” I gave my girlfriend my most evil, intentional grin.
Lindsey grabbed Dahlia’s wrists and fought to pull them up over her head, but the redhead summoned the strength of five women to keep her elbows pinned to her sides. “No! NO! Please no – don’t I’m sorry! I didn’t win – you all win! I give up!”
Her protests just added to the ridiculousness of the situation, Lindsey and Mack laughing at her plight. It looked like she was winning her fight to keep her arms down, but Mack changed the pressure he was using on the tops of her thighs and in one squeal and jerk, she released her arms and Lindsey trapped them over her. Realizing her mistake, she tried to get them back down, but it was too late.
I leaned over and rested my fingers on her tee shirt, feeling for where the bra strap was, and started walking my fingers up one centimeter at a time on both sides. “There’s a spot… right… here!”
“Let me go let me go let me go!” Dahlia pleaded with Lindsey as she writhed, then broke into hysterical laughter as Mack started squeezing his way down her bare legs towards her knees. “Mack, no! Please!”
“Say please!” Lindsey taunted her, her voice loaded with amusement.
“UnnnhhhhFUCK! I’m saying please!” Dahlia squealed in protest, and somehow through her ticklish hell, she realized there was someone else in the room. “Jenna HELP!”
And then my fingers found The Spot.
Dahlia had this amazing moment when her giggles went up an octave and doubled in speed, reserved for when the three most ticklish spots on her body were exploited. It was the depths of ticklish agony and when my fingers slipped into her underarms, I was rewarded with that kind of laughter. Her face flushed and her whole writhing pattern changed. I stayed at it for twenty seconds and then paused, making sure she could breathe. As if on cue, Mack stopped squeezing too.
The beautiful redhead was done begging and pleading with us – she knew there wasn’t any mercy coming from her so-called friends or her boyfriend with the severe tickling kink. She gasped for air and whimpered at the hopelessness of her predicament. I thought sure we’d worn her out.
Dahlia’s eyes suddenly bugged out of her head and the panic returned, resignation to her fate evaporating in an instant. “JENNA, NO, PLEASE!”
I hadn’t heard Jenna move and had no idea what she could have done to inspire such terror – until I heard the telltale thud of one of Dahlia’s loosely laced, high-top Converses hitting the floor an Jenna’s cool-as ice reply. “Promise me a kiss and I won’t.”
Oh, that’s new. I wonder if she knows Dahlia has a crush on her? I would have loved to explore that further, but there would be time when this four-on-one tickling found its inevitable end.
Dahlia’s mistake was not blurting out a ‘yes’. The demand registered on her face as utter incredulity, a comic look that made Lindsey and Mack redouble their laughter at the absurdity of the whole situation – and then Janna raked five fingernails down Dahlia’s sole.
Dahlia came unglued. We rocketed right through struggle-to-hold-it-in, giggling while begging, and laughter, and silent hysteria while thrashing, in about four seconds. My girlfriend had never looked so incredibly hot. So I did the only thing I could.
I joined in.
And so did everybody else.
My fingers slid into Dahlia’s underarms as Lindsey lost her grip, and instead of trying to wrestle her arms back over her head, Lindsey reached down to attack the trapped redhead’s bare sides where her shirt had ridden up. Mack needed one arm to keep her from kicking her way free, and used the other to alternate squeezing her knees and thighs. Jenna attacked Dahlia’s soles with ten fingers like she had a lot of experience, either on the giving or receiving end, of that particular torture. It was a free-for-all.
When it ended and everyone moved out of flailing range, it took her minutes to compose herself. Lindsey and Mack headed to the kitchen to put away the leftover Chinese food and Jenna collected the rum bottles to move to the counter. I sat down next to my girlfriend and leaned against her.
“You okay?” I asked.
“No! You guys are the worst!” she said, loudly enough for everyone in the kitchen to hear, before lowering her voice for just the two of us. “I’m so wet right now. I need you to fuck me. Can you please fuck me? Now?”
* * * * * * * * * * *
This is fictional story about a real person, written with her enthusiastic consent - though I hesitate to call it fiction, because it is closer to a premonition of an inevitability. That's right, Dahlia... this *is* going to happen to you. Just wait!
For the real story about Dahlia's first experience on the receiving end of my tickling kink, you can read that here. In our years together she has willingly sacrificed her incredibly ticklish body to my evil explorations a number of times, restrained and unrestrained, and seems to get more ticklish every time... and will never admit it, but is falling in love with being tickled! So there are many more stories to tell. Thanks for everyone who reads and comments.
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