Before I could plan any kind of escape, Aliphelea returned. I had just finished cleaning up after breakfast and was about to start my other chores. I instantly knew what was going to happen.
“Hello, Gulliver,” she said in the same tone some people use with dogs and children, “Are you ready to be milked again?” I said nothing. The cold wave of fear washing over me stole the words from my mouth.
I ran. It was more an instinctive reaction to danger than any kind of plan. Had I been thinking clearly, I would have known it was a foolhardy plan, one with no chance of succeeding. But at that moment, I wasn’t thinking at all.
I had gotten maybe fifty feet before I felt two slender arms wrap themselves around my waist. Despite my size, Corina scooped my up into her arms and cradled my like an infant. She held me tightly and carried my back to Aliphelea. I kicked my legs furiously, like a child throwing a tempertantrum, but that did no good.
“You will be punished for that little Gulliver,” Corina said, giving my ribs a quick tickle to make me squeal, “That’s just a preview of what’s coming for you.”
I was carried back to Aliphelea, still squirming, and placed firmly on my feet directly in front of her. Corina stood behind me, like before, and got a secure grip on my arms, forcing them nehind my back with ease.
Aliphelea winked, though whether at me or at Corina I could not say, and pulled down my loincloth. I again felt the hot mortification flow across my face at having some strange woman stare at my most private place.
“And how is little Mr. Wiggle doing?” Aliphelea addressed my manhood. She ran her soft finger up it, causing a spike of pleasure to shoot through my body. I forced myself to stay flaccid.
“Rise and shine,” Aliphelea sang, and touched me for a few minutes, trying to get me to stand at attention. I resisted, using all my self-control. She would not win this time!
“I think your slave is contesting us, Corina,” Aliphelea said, pulling a stiff feather from a pocket of her white robe, “Let’s see how strong he really is.” Aliphelea began flicking the feather under my testicles, and I bellowed like she’d set them on fire.
“HEHE EHEHEH EHEH EH STAWWWP STAAWPPP NAWWT THERERERE HEH EHEHEH EH EHEH NAAWWTTT THERERE HEHE EHEHE EHE EHEHEHEH NOOAAWWOOO HEHEH EH EH EHH EEHHEHEHH EHEH!!!!!!!”
Having my testicles tickled with a feather was a different sensation than I had yet felt. It was like lightning stabbing directly to my brain. The feather was stiff and somehow just a little prickly. Aliphelea caressed first my left testicle, then the right, using fast strokes, then slow. I laughed harder and harder, shaking my head from side to side and continuing to beg for mercy.
“Grow for me, little Mr. Wiggles, grow for the doctor,” Aliphelea sang, occasionally running the feather up my shaft. Mostly she kept it gliding over the testicles. She traced it down towards my thighs, back over the shaft, and always returning to my testicles.
I was cackling now, cackling like the witch from Shakespeare. Oh it tickled, but I wasn’t going to grow hard. I wasn’t going to give Aliphelea the satisfaction. Then with all my will trying to oppose that feather, I felt something warm and wet on my neck. It was Corina!
Oh, not my neck! That had always been one of my wife’s favorite places to suck, knowing that it drove me wild! I could feel Corina’s tongue skating from shoulder to ear, could feel her lips giving my neck hot, hot kisses. It distracted me, pulled my attention away from resisting Aliphelea’s feather. I started laughing harder and moaning at the same time.
I moaned even harder the next time that Aliphelea ran her feather up my shaft. She started just using the stiff feather on my manhood, and began using her fingernails to lightly tickle my testicles. Corina began kissing my neck more deeply, moving her lips for my throat. My moaning and laughter became mingled, inseparable from each other.
It wasn’t until I felt Aliphelea’s hand on my manhood that I realized I had completely stiffened. She began stroking up and down with the one hand while that god cursed feather began gliding over my testicles again. Oh no, not again, not again!
A hand on my chin turned my head to the left, and Corina’s hot lips fastened onto mine, her tongue piercing my mouth. It was easily the most magnetic kiss that I’d ever experienced. At the same time, Aliphelea’s warm hand kept stroking me in an unpredictable pattern, first slow and easy, then harder and faster.
I couldn’t help it. It was too much, more sensuality than a man should ever have to fight. I erupted like a volcano, directly into Aliphelea’s bottle. And then it was over.
I sank to my knees, and heard Aliphelea and Corina talking in husky voices. Then Corina was ordering me to get back to work. I was expected to keep working only minutes after being violated. I wanted to cry, I wanted to yell, but instead, I did as I was told. I wouldn’t risk another punishment.
Aliphelea and Corina quickly disappeared into her bedroom. Soon soft moans could be heard from under the doorway. I did my best to ignore it as I cleaned the kitchen. My shame burned to brightly to care what they were up to. I only knew that somehow, I would escape.
A few hours later Aliphelea left, looking very satisfied and a little tired. She had not been gone for more than a few minutes when Corina announced I would now be punished for my shameful behavior in trying to avoid being milked. She sat down on the end of the couch and made me lie down next to her, placing my feet in her lap.
Corina used her thighs like a vice, holding my ankles as securely as if they’d been bound in steel chains. That was the night I had learned the difference between a tickling sprint and a marathon. Before, Corina had tickled me hard, forcing me into explosive laughter for a short time, maybe an hour. This time, she used a light touch, keeping one finger constantly gliding over my soles, exploring every inch of tender flesh.. It was a soft tickle, not overwhelming but persistant.
Corina pretended to read as her left hand brushed my feet. It was a tickling that tested my endurance, like nails being scratched on a chalkboard. I clamped my lips shut, held my hand over my mouth and tried to think of something, everything except Corina’s finger. No matter what I tried, my legs soon started to tremble. But I was determined to hold out, to give Corina no sign she was affecting me at all.
Oh I tried to hold out, but a sudden flick of that finger up my arch made an animal noise pop out. A quick scratch over the balls of my feet would make my entire body quiver. My toes were the worst, naturally. That lazy little finger alone could make me break out in a stream of solid giggles when it poked between them. Corina didn’t keep it there for long, however. Soon that finger would drift back down to my instep or heel, and the tickling would lessen to the point where I could clamp my lips again. But I could still feel it!
Soon, one finger wasn’t enough. She began sliding two or three fingers across my soles. Her digits always seemed to drift at random, from heel to toes, instep to arch. She began tracing the lines on my soles, geometric patterns and probably even words, but always with that same feathery touch. In the short run, I seemed to have the strength to resist the light tickling, but it was a test on endurance.
Throughout my ordeal, Corina kept pretending to read. She paid me no attention, apparently allowing her fingers to roam under there own free will. Still, I was sure I saw a little grin on her lips every time she made me laugh. It was a game to her!
For more than an hour, Corina kept this up. I would resist her fingers for a while, burst with the effort, until a finger ‘accidentally’ slid underneath my little toe or dug gently into the spot at the bottom of my arch. Then I would giggle and giggle like a demented schoolgirl until the finger mercifully moved on. Those fingers were always there!
It was when Corina took out the small bottle of hand cream (made from local fruits and roots) that things became very much worse. Complaining of dry skin, she rubbed some into my soles, doing so in a way that made me howl. When she finished, my feet were still greasy. And foolish me thought the worse was over.
She went back to tracing one finger over my sole, but this time it felt like a branding iron. It screamed when her sharp nail glided down my instep. The center of my foot now tickled more than my toes had! And when she got back to my toes…when that fingernail grazed the side of my big toe, I thought I was going to pass out!
Corina did this until she went to bed, reapplying the lotion as necessary. She never had to use more than a single finger from that moment on to keep my laughter bouncing off the walls. If she hadn’t still been teasing me, tickling my entire sole instead of focusing on spots like my toes, I don’t think I would have survived.
Corina’s message was simple. She could keep me in agony with only one finger. What would it have felt like if she’d used a hand? Be good, little Gulliver, or you’ll find out.
What I learned was simple. Get out at dawn. Get out before this she-devil completely breaks your spirit and your will to fight her!
“Hello, Gulliver,” she said in the same tone some people use with dogs and children, “Are you ready to be milked again?” I said nothing. The cold wave of fear washing over me stole the words from my mouth.
I ran. It was more an instinctive reaction to danger than any kind of plan. Had I been thinking clearly, I would have known it was a foolhardy plan, one with no chance of succeeding. But at that moment, I wasn’t thinking at all.
I had gotten maybe fifty feet before I felt two slender arms wrap themselves around my waist. Despite my size, Corina scooped my up into her arms and cradled my like an infant. She held me tightly and carried my back to Aliphelea. I kicked my legs furiously, like a child throwing a tempertantrum, but that did no good.
“You will be punished for that little Gulliver,” Corina said, giving my ribs a quick tickle to make me squeal, “That’s just a preview of what’s coming for you.”
I was carried back to Aliphelea, still squirming, and placed firmly on my feet directly in front of her. Corina stood behind me, like before, and got a secure grip on my arms, forcing them nehind my back with ease.
Aliphelea winked, though whether at me or at Corina I could not say, and pulled down my loincloth. I again felt the hot mortification flow across my face at having some strange woman stare at my most private place.
“And how is little Mr. Wiggle doing?” Aliphelea addressed my manhood. She ran her soft finger up it, causing a spike of pleasure to shoot through my body. I forced myself to stay flaccid.
“Rise and shine,” Aliphelea sang, and touched me for a few minutes, trying to get me to stand at attention. I resisted, using all my self-control. She would not win this time!
“I think your slave is contesting us, Corina,” Aliphelea said, pulling a stiff feather from a pocket of her white robe, “Let’s see how strong he really is.” Aliphelea began flicking the feather under my testicles, and I bellowed like she’d set them on fire.
“HEHE EHEHEH EHEH EH STAWWWP STAAWPPP NAWWT THERERERE HEH EHEHEH EH EHEH NAAWWTTT THERERE HEHE EHEHE EHE EHEHEHEH NOOAAWWOOO HEHEH EH EH EHH EEHHEHEHH EHEH!!!!!!!”
Having my testicles tickled with a feather was a different sensation than I had yet felt. It was like lightning stabbing directly to my brain. The feather was stiff and somehow just a little prickly. Aliphelea caressed first my left testicle, then the right, using fast strokes, then slow. I laughed harder and harder, shaking my head from side to side and continuing to beg for mercy.
“Grow for me, little Mr. Wiggles, grow for the doctor,” Aliphelea sang, occasionally running the feather up my shaft. Mostly she kept it gliding over the testicles. She traced it down towards my thighs, back over the shaft, and always returning to my testicles.
I was cackling now, cackling like the witch from Shakespeare. Oh it tickled, but I wasn’t going to grow hard. I wasn’t going to give Aliphelea the satisfaction. Then with all my will trying to oppose that feather, I felt something warm and wet on my neck. It was Corina!
Oh, not my neck! That had always been one of my wife’s favorite places to suck, knowing that it drove me wild! I could feel Corina’s tongue skating from shoulder to ear, could feel her lips giving my neck hot, hot kisses. It distracted me, pulled my attention away from resisting Aliphelea’s feather. I started laughing harder and moaning at the same time.
I moaned even harder the next time that Aliphelea ran her feather up my shaft. She started just using the stiff feather on my manhood, and began using her fingernails to lightly tickle my testicles. Corina began kissing my neck more deeply, moving her lips for my throat. My moaning and laughter became mingled, inseparable from each other.
It wasn’t until I felt Aliphelea’s hand on my manhood that I realized I had completely stiffened. She began stroking up and down with the one hand while that god cursed feather began gliding over my testicles again. Oh no, not again, not again!
A hand on my chin turned my head to the left, and Corina’s hot lips fastened onto mine, her tongue piercing my mouth. It was easily the most magnetic kiss that I’d ever experienced. At the same time, Aliphelea’s warm hand kept stroking me in an unpredictable pattern, first slow and easy, then harder and faster.
I couldn’t help it. It was too much, more sensuality than a man should ever have to fight. I erupted like a volcano, directly into Aliphelea’s bottle. And then it was over.
I sank to my knees, and heard Aliphelea and Corina talking in husky voices. Then Corina was ordering me to get back to work. I was expected to keep working only minutes after being violated. I wanted to cry, I wanted to yell, but instead, I did as I was told. I wouldn’t risk another punishment.
Aliphelea and Corina quickly disappeared into her bedroom. Soon soft moans could be heard from under the doorway. I did my best to ignore it as I cleaned the kitchen. My shame burned to brightly to care what they were up to. I only knew that somehow, I would escape.
A few hours later Aliphelea left, looking very satisfied and a little tired. She had not been gone for more than a few minutes when Corina announced I would now be punished for my shameful behavior in trying to avoid being milked. She sat down on the end of the couch and made me lie down next to her, placing my feet in her lap.
Corina used her thighs like a vice, holding my ankles as securely as if they’d been bound in steel chains. That was the night I had learned the difference between a tickling sprint and a marathon. Before, Corina had tickled me hard, forcing me into explosive laughter for a short time, maybe an hour. This time, she used a light touch, keeping one finger constantly gliding over my soles, exploring every inch of tender flesh.. It was a soft tickle, not overwhelming but persistant.
Corina pretended to read as her left hand brushed my feet. It was a tickling that tested my endurance, like nails being scratched on a chalkboard. I clamped my lips shut, held my hand over my mouth and tried to think of something, everything except Corina’s finger. No matter what I tried, my legs soon started to tremble. But I was determined to hold out, to give Corina no sign she was affecting me at all.
Oh I tried to hold out, but a sudden flick of that finger up my arch made an animal noise pop out. A quick scratch over the balls of my feet would make my entire body quiver. My toes were the worst, naturally. That lazy little finger alone could make me break out in a stream of solid giggles when it poked between them. Corina didn’t keep it there for long, however. Soon that finger would drift back down to my instep or heel, and the tickling would lessen to the point where I could clamp my lips again. But I could still feel it!
Soon, one finger wasn’t enough. She began sliding two or three fingers across my soles. Her digits always seemed to drift at random, from heel to toes, instep to arch. She began tracing the lines on my soles, geometric patterns and probably even words, but always with that same feathery touch. In the short run, I seemed to have the strength to resist the light tickling, but it was a test on endurance.
Throughout my ordeal, Corina kept pretending to read. She paid me no attention, apparently allowing her fingers to roam under there own free will. Still, I was sure I saw a little grin on her lips every time she made me laugh. It was a game to her!
For more than an hour, Corina kept this up. I would resist her fingers for a while, burst with the effort, until a finger ‘accidentally’ slid underneath my little toe or dug gently into the spot at the bottom of my arch. Then I would giggle and giggle like a demented schoolgirl until the finger mercifully moved on. Those fingers were always there!
It was when Corina took out the small bottle of hand cream (made from local fruits and roots) that things became very much worse. Complaining of dry skin, she rubbed some into my soles, doing so in a way that made me howl. When she finished, my feet were still greasy. And foolish me thought the worse was over.
She went back to tracing one finger over my sole, but this time it felt like a branding iron. It screamed when her sharp nail glided down my instep. The center of my foot now tickled more than my toes had! And when she got back to my toes…when that fingernail grazed the side of my big toe, I thought I was going to pass out!
Corina did this until she went to bed, reapplying the lotion as necessary. She never had to use more than a single finger from that moment on to keep my laughter bouncing off the walls. If she hadn’t still been teasing me, tickling my entire sole instead of focusing on spots like my toes, I don’t think I would have survived.
Corina’s message was simple. She could keep me in agony with only one finger. What would it have felt like if she’d used a hand? Be good, little Gulliver, or you’ll find out.
What I learned was simple. Get out at dawn. Get out before this she-devil completely breaks your spirit and your will to fight her!
