“I have an afternoon planned for you that will satisfy every tickle craving you have. I also have a few surprises. From this moment on, your body is mine. My bondage is custom made for your exact height. It is simple, but elegant. My cuffs will hold you securely no matter how you pull on them, or cry for me to stop.It will certainly help you surrender your body and mind. Prepare for the absolutely mind-blowing tickles I will give you.”
He blindfolded me in the hallway, and then spun me around a few times until I was a bit dizzy. His fingers began to poke and fondle my ribs. His fingers were long, and quite adequate for the task of probing me gently while I tried not to giggle. I couldn’t hold still though as seconds passed, and I attempted to wiggle away. He had long arms, and an unusually long reach, so I couldn’t escape his tickling hands. He began to find the places on my sides that really tickle me, and as I began to scream from his touches, he laughed sinisterly like an evil tickle monster with a plan. This seemed appropriate because that’s exactly what he was. A perverse, twisted, tickle freak who was just to my liking. There is nothing more delicious than a motivated tickler who wants to give me what I crave.
I couldn’t see him because of my blindfold, so predicting where his hands were going to go next was impossible. I wanted to remedy this problem by removing my blindfold, but all ten of his fingers gripped my ribs, and it startled me, causing involuntary screams and giggles. I was forced to keep the blindfold on, and focus my attention on the sensations he gave to me.
Oh, my goodness, I fought him. But, I truly needed him to give me tickles, and he did not disappoint. I began to giggle quite intensely from his torrid rib-molesting. I lost my breath from all this excitement, and my balance. Not being able to take off that blindfold made the sensations evil, and just when I thought I’d fall down, he wrapped his arms around me and locked his fingers onto the sides of my tummy. With my arms locked at my sides, my blindfolded eyes, and his tickle abuse, he guided me across the room while I had a fit of giggles with each agonizing step.
“The bed is directly in front of you. I’m going to stop tickling, but my grip on you will remain tight. Climb on to the bed when I do that. I have a surprise for you. If you promise to keep the blindfold on, this should be very easy.”
I couldn’t do what he asked. I just burst out laughing, and when I couldn’t comply with his wishes, he resumed tickling. This time it was more intense than before, and he managed to get up underneath my shirt to just make me giggle harder. He was giving the tickle treatment to my bare belly and sides. The sensations were amazing. I moaned. I cried. I tried to bite him. These actions seemed to spur him onward. When I began to screech as he hit some very ticklish spots, he knew he had to reposition me for better access to these areas: my naked sides, my arms, and the middle of my belly. Even though he had stopped for the moment, it took me a full minute to catch my breath, and when I did, I actually was a bit thirsty.
“Keep your blindfold on while I help you onto the bed, and I’ll get you some water, blushing one.” My face indeed felt hot. He guided me onto the bed and positioned me on my back.
I did not resist the way he moved me around on the bed. I wanted him to tickle me fiercely. We agreed to bondage, but having my cuffed arms up over my head made my heart race. The anticipation of a free for all upper body tickling suddenly aroused me quite a bit. I felt so vulnerable and exposed. I wanted his teasing, and tickling, and didn’t want him to ever stop.
Suddenly I felt my shirt being pulled all the way up to my bra line. Perhaps my bra was showing; I couldn’t tell, and didn’t care. However, the two ice cubes he put on my belly got my attention. He held them to my hot skin, let them melt a little, and then licked the dripping water. He nibbled me gently. The ice cooled me, and the water dripping onto my sides felt good. He had a glass of cold water with a straw that I drank while he helped me.
“This bare belly better prepare for an oily, messy tickle torture.” His hands began massaging the center of my belly making it slick with oil. He worked his way to my sides, and working until he had a slippery coating. “Kitchy, kitchy coooooooo, I’m going to get you!”
He sat on my upper thighs, and began to give me the worst tickle torture of my life. He used his long fingers to count my ribs, which were easy to find with my arms tied above my head. “One, two….;” This was in between surprise belly tickling which made me scream and cry for mercy. His fingers were flying everywhere: my belly button got special attention. He put his finger in it and then pushed down and made circles…first to the right…then to the left...right…left…and on and on it went. With his hands he kneaded my sides…first gently…then with a little more pressure. He gave me the full two-handed treatment on each side of my belly. I think he must have repeated this a million times on that bed.
He saved the worst tickling for last. He ran his oily, slick fingers up and down, and then side to side all over my lower belly and hips. I wish I had been able to resist screaming, and begging, and outrageous giggling when this happened. I’d like to report that the verbal teasing that he added to my torment didn’t drive me mad. But I would be inaccurately describing the experience.
I knew my orgasm was on it’s way when he said, “I wish I could describe how this makes me feel in more detail then I’m going to. You’re screaming, and your oiled belly, and your giggling, and your laughing and begging are making me never want to stop. So, I’m not going to.”
Last edited: