Posted this on Reddit and thought you guys might appreciate it as well.
Hey guys! My wife and I occasionally have a lee over for fun times and I wanted to share our latest session with you lot, because it was incredibly fun!
To give you a little bit of background, we’ve already done a fair few sessions with this lee, who I will call Alice, on several occasions. We met for the sole purpose of having a session a couple of years ago, but really we became fairly good friends ever since! We’re all geeks or nerds, so what was originally meant to scratch a physical itch actually became a wonderful friendship, bonding over philosophy, politics, Pokemon, and the Avengers. Over those couple of years we’ve also had numerous sessions, some of which I’ll hopefully tell you all about later. But for now, I want to tell you about our latest one.
So, with Alice my wife and I have really worked to hone our skills and craft of domination and tickling. What I’ve discovered is that, even for us lers or doms, there’s a certain degree of comfort that needs to be obtained in order for you to develop your own style. Me, I’m a bit of a smartass, bit of a hedonist, but also devious and intense. All of this came to a head last Saturday for what was, in my opinion, one of my best sessions as a dom and ler.
Since the day we started scheduling the session, I knew I wanted to prepare something a little different. I’d encorporated challenges into our sessions before, and I wanted to do it again. But I also wanted to increase the intensity of the session as a whole, both in the challenge and in the tickling. In our bedroom we have some of those under-bed straps. They work pretty well, but I’ve felt… disappointed with them. They weren’t enough, they were boring, etc. I’ve been meaning to build my own stocks, but I already had something on hand that I thought would work extraordinarily well that I wanted to try: our inversion table. So I planned on using that.
As I believe I’ve posted here before, I have a fairly weak-powered drill to which I’ve attached the head of a hairbrush. I love this thing. But I wanted to try something new. Something maybe not as intense, more personal, and flexible. Getting inspiration from several video producers, I went to my local PetSmart and bought 2 different types of grooming gloves. One of the gloves had softer, rubbery nubs that weren’t very stiff. I really wasn’t sure it would work well because of how soft the bristles were, but I ran it against the palm of my hand at the store, and honestly, I thought it would do a reasonable job. The other glove had thicker, stiffer bristles. These, I felt, would works tremendously. The one downside was that the bristles were much closer together, so I felt they might lose some of their effectiveness by spreading the pressure over too many points. Still, worth a shot. I bought them both.
Alice is a tiny little thing. 5’2”, 90lbs soaking wet, with straight, dark brown hair falling under her shoulders. She has wide, warm, round, brown eyes, soft, pale skin, and a very easy smile and kind nature, though also fiercely competitive. On the day of our session, as we were walking up to our bedroom, I asked her how many sit-ups she could do. She laughed, remarked about her complete lack of upper-body strength, and said, “maybe ten!*
“All right,” I said, “we’ll shoot for ten!” And I led them into the bedroom where the inversion table was waiting for us. I adjusted it to her height, helped her on, and placed a very soft, bamboo towel over her feet before closing the ankle holds. For those of you who have never used one before, or who may not have used one barefoot, inversion tables have a very peculiar effect on your feet if you’re actually hanging from your ankles. Without having to tie or restrain the feet or toes in any way, the feet are held straight, open, and immobile, like an immaculate canvas enticing you into your finest work. It can also, however, be a little uncomfortable, but the quality of our towel took care of that. I don’t like my lees being uncomfortable. I want nothing to distract them from the titillation I have in store for them.
Once she was secure, I lowered the inversion table until her weight was definitely depending on those ankle straps, but so that she still had back support. I secured the angle with the table’s strap, and once again, repeated the challenge. “You’ve got to do 10 sit-ups! And don’t worry! We’ll provide you with all the moral support and incentive you’ll need!” I told her to go ahead and have a free one while I applied a nice coating of coconut oil to her feet. I like coconut oil for several reasons: it’s a great moisturizer, it definitely reduces friction, it smells and tastes great, and it’s both antifungal and antibacterial. She was finishing her second sit-up when I moved to her right foot, and when my wife started working on her oiled left foot. The sit-ups came to an immediate stop! She started bucking, screaming and laughing from my wife’s long, cruel fingernails. It took her a few seconds, or for as long as it took me to coat her right foot, for her to gather her strength to do her third sit-up. And of course, that’s when I started. My wife may have longer nails, but I have a more refined technique and passion for my craft. Instead of doing quite the mad scribble that Brii was doing on Alice’s left foot, I instead made sure that my long scritches down her soles were deep, firm, and precise; relying on the heavily reduced friction from the oil to turn what may have felt like a deeper, scratchy massage into a deliberate tickle torture. Again, the sit-ups stopped, and a renewed fervor of screams peeled from poor Alice. But this time it was when she was about three-quarters of the way through her fourth sit-up, and Brii was only too happy to inform her that she didn’t think that last one counted. Not a full sit-up! She’d have to do that one again!
“OH COME ON!” was such a thrilling thing to hear. But, she soldiered on! It would take her quite a bit to find the energy to do another sit-up, but she kept at it! Of course, my wife and I kept shouting encouragement like parents at a peewee sporting event. I kept changing my tactic. I went from my deep scritches into horizontal lines across the balls of her feet. With her own weight holding her toes back, it was nice to have all of that freely exposed to me. After another sit-up, I switched to fast, strong scratches on her heel. This changed her laughter into a deeper, more guttural guffaw that I thoroughly enjoyed. Then I switched to a more frenzied scrawling of all along her foot. I wish I could tell you if my wife had changed tactics at all, but really, I was way too enthralled with what I was doing. One thing’s for sure, though. We stopped her at seven!
When it looked like she couldn’t do the eighth, we gave her a break. We pulled her back up, gave her a drink and a breath, Brii went to use the bathroom, and I got ready for the next stage. I’d forgotten to remove the packaging on the grooming gloves, so I did that and brought them over to where Brii and I had been standing by her dainty feet. As she saw what was coming, all she managed was, “Oh god…” There’s a special sensation that hits you when your lee says those words. It’s an intense excitement rushing into your heart like a wave of cool water, and then pulsing all through your body, giving you goosebumps in anticipation of what you’re about to do next.
Brii, for her part, told Alice not to worry, that we would help her get to 10 sit-ups! But of course, since we had to give her a break, we would have to start over. I love my wife. I particularly enjoyed the “OH GOD DAMNIT!” Alice shouted in response. We lowered her, I gave Brii the glove with softer bristles, and applied more oil to Alice’s feet. This little respite gave her the opportunity to sneak in two whole sit-ups before we started. But it took her a hell of a time to get her shit together for the third. The moment Brii and I started on her feet with those grooming gloves, she lost her mind. She screamed no less than three times and bucked wildly on the inversion table. It was heavenly. I could feel the bristles of the glove gliding so effortlessly over the oil along her soles. I scrubbed her arches, I scrubbed the balls of her feet, her heels… I even took the time to scrub carefully right below her toes, where they meet the balls of her feet, trying to get as close as possible without hurting her. Oh, it was exquisite. It was a similar sensation to a steak-lover biting into one of the juiciest, most meticulously cooked steaks they had ever encountered. The sensation of gliding that glove across her soles and listening to her tumultuous reaction had me salivating.
After a few moments of her trying and failing to regain composure, no matter how many times we yelled out “Come on! You can do it! One more!”, I took pity on her and walked away from her feet. I moved down and started massaging her underarms firmly with the tips of my fingers. This brought her into renewed peels of laughter, but at least she found strength to do another sit-up! I moved my fingers to her waist and stomach, aggravating their physical stress with deep, purposeful tickling. For the stomach, I like to place my fingers such that my thumbs are on opposite sides of the belly button, and my fingers line the space between the stomach and pelvis, push in firmly with my fingertips, and quiver them rapidly. It never fails me. Still, she did another sit-up. I had foolishly position myself a little close to her head, so she caught me on the nose on the way up! I kept at it, switching along her upper body for a bit until it was evident that she couldn’t do more. Again, she’d managed seven. As Brii and I lifted her into a more horizontal position, she yelled out, “Can we do a combined count!?” clearly terrified my wife was about to give her more bad news. But my wife took pity on her, and the sit-up challenge was done. The session, however, was far from over.
We took another short break, during which I found some rope that I wedged under the base of the inversion table. She gave me her wrist, which I held over her head and tied together. I then pulled the rope taught so she couldn’t pull her arms down, and secured the rope at the base such that we could simply pull it from the other end to release her. I went downstairs looking for ice, but instead I found a popsicle. Watermelon and agave. No one else liked the flavor, so I took it in. I tortured her slowly for a while, dragging the top of the popsicle along the soles of her feet. This brought more screams than giggles, but a healthy mixture of both. Brii asked me why I hadn’t just grabbed ice cubes, which apparently I had not looked for in the right place, because she brought a little dish with a few. So I moved with my popsicle to her armpits and stomach while Brii carried on with her feet. After a few short minutes, we did away with the cold.
What came next was some pretty basic, run of the mill tickling of a hapless victim. Brii had started on her feet, but eventually had to take a call and left Alice and me to our on devices. As for me, I started by assaulting under her arms. Whenever it sounded like she was getting used to one spot, I switched. I went from under her arms to her sides and ribs. That one didn’t last very long, but then I moved to her stomach again, and that one had her guffawing for a while. Then I moved down to her hip bone and along her pelvis, right where most underwear stops. I love this part. It carries with it a mixture of surprised yell and intense laughter, and a special type of bucking. You know that right then your fingers are doing a mixture of tickle torture and teasing that is so intoxicating to see in your lee. Of course, from here I had no choice but to move down to the upper thigh. Again, with a clawed hand, pressing my fingertips (no nails!) along the inside of the upper thigh so that my fingers came close, but never touched, her pelvis, I quivered my fingers rapidly into a fast, firm massage. Mmm. It drove her wild. And that drove me wild; like the moment after taking a long, cool drink on a hot day with furious physical work, how it is both refreshing, but also somehow leaving you even more eager for the next sip.
Then it was time for another break. While she relaxed, I did a little bit of knismesis on her, rather than trying to tickle her for laughs. As I gently caressed her stomach with my fingertips, however, she became a giggling mess. I think the stimulation and the euphoria was leaving her particularly vulnerable at that point. Still, it seemed more enjoyable than anything, so I carried on, along her stomach, up and down her arms, down her legs, and even very gently on the soles of her feet.
After she’d caught her breath, I was ready to move into my end-game. I had two more moves that I was eager to use on her. The first: the drill. I asked her for permission to lower her down again. I wanted her feet taught for this, though obviously I didn’t ruin the surprise. She agreed, and so down she went. Once her feet were secure, I re-oiled them for the third time. And out came the drill. This she had experience with before. It’s one of my favorites, and it never fails to turn her into a mad, bucking, screaming mess. But this time it would be different. There would be no struggle trying to keep her foot steady. It made all the difference in the world. The moment the bristles of the hairbrush started rotating on her foot, she screamed. She bucked, and she thrashed, but her feet did not budge. I was able to focus on my technique with the drill in a way I’d never been able to before. I was able to hold it at just the right pressure, with just the right speed. It was visually mesmerizing to watch the way the bristles gently pushed and shaped the flesh of her soles. While the other techniques provided a more tactile feedback for me, the drill provided a unique layer of separate in which I could more readily enjoy up close the textures of her feet being tugged by the brush. Her screams changed to a long, uncontrollable stream of laughter that sounded like it was coming from the limits of her body. After every breath, this beautiful, melodic laughter would continue. That laughter was the crescendo for me. It was so pure, so unadulterated by scream or curse or pleading. Just peals after peals of laughter. Afterwards she said she hadn’t noticed, but the only unfortunate part of this portion of the session is that the foot-rest of the inversion table limited my movement a bit with the drill. I managed fine around it, but next time I will be replacing the permanent bolts with some which can be removed after the table has been tilted for clear access to the soles. She, however, hadn’t noticed and felt that I had been in no way hindered during that time.
To transition away from the drill, I donned the softer-bristled grooming glove and returned to her feet. You can’t use the drill on the toes. The toes are far too sensitive and fragile. And I had avoided them before with the other glove because I had foolishly been focusing on attacking the balls of her feet side-to-side. But with a renewed inspiration, I reached my gloved hand over her toes and onto the brutalized balls of her feet and started stroking backwards, so that the glove glided up over her toes rather than across. Her toes proved to be particularly sensitive, probably because they’d been ignored most of this time, and I discovered that there were still some screams left in her.
Finally down to my last act, I let her catch her breath while I got the electric toothbrush ready. For me, this means pulling off the tip so that the rotating head remains. For those of you unaware, most electric toothbrushes and personal grooming tools with detachable tips are operated by a single, oscillating rod. The rod oscillates in very small circles, making it seem and feel more like it’s vibrating than spinning. I moved to her upper body and started searching along her pelvis. My fingertips obviously tickled on their own quite a bit as I poked and prodded since she started giggling instantly, but this was purely unintentional, and I was hawkishly focused on my goal. I found the perfect spot: right on the inside of the hip, lower on the pelvis, but still touching the protruding hip-bone. Holding my left middle and index finger firmly on the spot, I turned the electric toothbrush to its max setting, inserted the rod between my fingers and her flesh so as to keep it tightly against that bone, and turned it on. The way she described it after-the-fact, was that the vibrating sensations just completely overtook her entire mind. That sensation became her entire existence. For me, it translated into a renewed couple of shouts that once again gave way to pure, unseasoned laughter. I held the toothbrush steady amidst her bucking, firmly in place with my two fingers, until I was satisfied.
We called it after that. In total, we were at it for roughly an hour. She was amazing. Her abs were definitely sore, and the experience was really intense. My wife left to visit her grandmother while I cooked Alice a steak dinner while we talked about the session, then life, politics, philosophy, and ended the night by watching an episode of Mr. Iglesias. Why I heartily recommend, by the way.
It was a good session. I’ll have to think about how to top it next time.
Hey guys! My wife and I occasionally have a lee over for fun times and I wanted to share our latest session with you lot, because it was incredibly fun!
To give you a little bit of background, we’ve already done a fair few sessions with this lee, who I will call Alice, on several occasions. We met for the sole purpose of having a session a couple of years ago, but really we became fairly good friends ever since! We’re all geeks or nerds, so what was originally meant to scratch a physical itch actually became a wonderful friendship, bonding over philosophy, politics, Pokemon, and the Avengers. Over those couple of years we’ve also had numerous sessions, some of which I’ll hopefully tell you all about later. But for now, I want to tell you about our latest one.
So, with Alice my wife and I have really worked to hone our skills and craft of domination and tickling. What I’ve discovered is that, even for us lers or doms, there’s a certain degree of comfort that needs to be obtained in order for you to develop your own style. Me, I’m a bit of a smartass, bit of a hedonist, but also devious and intense. All of this came to a head last Saturday for what was, in my opinion, one of my best sessions as a dom and ler.
Since the day we started scheduling the session, I knew I wanted to prepare something a little different. I’d encorporated challenges into our sessions before, and I wanted to do it again. But I also wanted to increase the intensity of the session as a whole, both in the challenge and in the tickling. In our bedroom we have some of those under-bed straps. They work pretty well, but I’ve felt… disappointed with them. They weren’t enough, they were boring, etc. I’ve been meaning to build my own stocks, but I already had something on hand that I thought would work extraordinarily well that I wanted to try: our inversion table. So I planned on using that.
As I believe I’ve posted here before, I have a fairly weak-powered drill to which I’ve attached the head of a hairbrush. I love this thing. But I wanted to try something new. Something maybe not as intense, more personal, and flexible. Getting inspiration from several video producers, I went to my local PetSmart and bought 2 different types of grooming gloves. One of the gloves had softer, rubbery nubs that weren’t very stiff. I really wasn’t sure it would work well because of how soft the bristles were, but I ran it against the palm of my hand at the store, and honestly, I thought it would do a reasonable job. The other glove had thicker, stiffer bristles. These, I felt, would works tremendously. The one downside was that the bristles were much closer together, so I felt they might lose some of their effectiveness by spreading the pressure over too many points. Still, worth a shot. I bought them both.
Alice is a tiny little thing. 5’2”, 90lbs soaking wet, with straight, dark brown hair falling under her shoulders. She has wide, warm, round, brown eyes, soft, pale skin, and a very easy smile and kind nature, though also fiercely competitive. On the day of our session, as we were walking up to our bedroom, I asked her how many sit-ups she could do. She laughed, remarked about her complete lack of upper-body strength, and said, “maybe ten!*
“All right,” I said, “we’ll shoot for ten!” And I led them into the bedroom where the inversion table was waiting for us. I adjusted it to her height, helped her on, and placed a very soft, bamboo towel over her feet before closing the ankle holds. For those of you who have never used one before, or who may not have used one barefoot, inversion tables have a very peculiar effect on your feet if you’re actually hanging from your ankles. Without having to tie or restrain the feet or toes in any way, the feet are held straight, open, and immobile, like an immaculate canvas enticing you into your finest work. It can also, however, be a little uncomfortable, but the quality of our towel took care of that. I don’t like my lees being uncomfortable. I want nothing to distract them from the titillation I have in store for them.
Once she was secure, I lowered the inversion table until her weight was definitely depending on those ankle straps, but so that she still had back support. I secured the angle with the table’s strap, and once again, repeated the challenge. “You’ve got to do 10 sit-ups! And don’t worry! We’ll provide you with all the moral support and incentive you’ll need!” I told her to go ahead and have a free one while I applied a nice coating of coconut oil to her feet. I like coconut oil for several reasons: it’s a great moisturizer, it definitely reduces friction, it smells and tastes great, and it’s both antifungal and antibacterial. She was finishing her second sit-up when I moved to her right foot, and when my wife started working on her oiled left foot. The sit-ups came to an immediate stop! She started bucking, screaming and laughing from my wife’s long, cruel fingernails. It took her a few seconds, or for as long as it took me to coat her right foot, for her to gather her strength to do her third sit-up. And of course, that’s when I started. My wife may have longer nails, but I have a more refined technique and passion for my craft. Instead of doing quite the mad scribble that Brii was doing on Alice’s left foot, I instead made sure that my long scritches down her soles were deep, firm, and precise; relying on the heavily reduced friction from the oil to turn what may have felt like a deeper, scratchy massage into a deliberate tickle torture. Again, the sit-ups stopped, and a renewed fervor of screams peeled from poor Alice. But this time it was when she was about three-quarters of the way through her fourth sit-up, and Brii was only too happy to inform her that she didn’t think that last one counted. Not a full sit-up! She’d have to do that one again!
“OH COME ON!” was such a thrilling thing to hear. But, she soldiered on! It would take her quite a bit to find the energy to do another sit-up, but she kept at it! Of course, my wife and I kept shouting encouragement like parents at a peewee sporting event. I kept changing my tactic. I went from my deep scritches into horizontal lines across the balls of her feet. With her own weight holding her toes back, it was nice to have all of that freely exposed to me. After another sit-up, I switched to fast, strong scratches on her heel. This changed her laughter into a deeper, more guttural guffaw that I thoroughly enjoyed. Then I switched to a more frenzied scrawling of all along her foot. I wish I could tell you if my wife had changed tactics at all, but really, I was way too enthralled with what I was doing. One thing’s for sure, though. We stopped her at seven!
When it looked like she couldn’t do the eighth, we gave her a break. We pulled her back up, gave her a drink and a breath, Brii went to use the bathroom, and I got ready for the next stage. I’d forgotten to remove the packaging on the grooming gloves, so I did that and brought them over to where Brii and I had been standing by her dainty feet. As she saw what was coming, all she managed was, “Oh god…” There’s a special sensation that hits you when your lee says those words. It’s an intense excitement rushing into your heart like a wave of cool water, and then pulsing all through your body, giving you goosebumps in anticipation of what you’re about to do next.
Brii, for her part, told Alice not to worry, that we would help her get to 10 sit-ups! But of course, since we had to give her a break, we would have to start over. I love my wife. I particularly enjoyed the “OH GOD DAMNIT!” Alice shouted in response. We lowered her, I gave Brii the glove with softer bristles, and applied more oil to Alice’s feet. This little respite gave her the opportunity to sneak in two whole sit-ups before we started. But it took her a hell of a time to get her shit together for the third. The moment Brii and I started on her feet with those grooming gloves, she lost her mind. She screamed no less than three times and bucked wildly on the inversion table. It was heavenly. I could feel the bristles of the glove gliding so effortlessly over the oil along her soles. I scrubbed her arches, I scrubbed the balls of her feet, her heels… I even took the time to scrub carefully right below her toes, where they meet the balls of her feet, trying to get as close as possible without hurting her. Oh, it was exquisite. It was a similar sensation to a steak-lover biting into one of the juiciest, most meticulously cooked steaks they had ever encountered. The sensation of gliding that glove across her soles and listening to her tumultuous reaction had me salivating.
After a few moments of her trying and failing to regain composure, no matter how many times we yelled out “Come on! You can do it! One more!”, I took pity on her and walked away from her feet. I moved down and started massaging her underarms firmly with the tips of my fingers. This brought her into renewed peels of laughter, but at least she found strength to do another sit-up! I moved my fingers to her waist and stomach, aggravating their physical stress with deep, purposeful tickling. For the stomach, I like to place my fingers such that my thumbs are on opposite sides of the belly button, and my fingers line the space between the stomach and pelvis, push in firmly with my fingertips, and quiver them rapidly. It never fails me. Still, she did another sit-up. I had foolishly position myself a little close to her head, so she caught me on the nose on the way up! I kept at it, switching along her upper body for a bit until it was evident that she couldn’t do more. Again, she’d managed seven. As Brii and I lifted her into a more horizontal position, she yelled out, “Can we do a combined count!?” clearly terrified my wife was about to give her more bad news. But my wife took pity on her, and the sit-up challenge was done. The session, however, was far from over.
We took another short break, during which I found some rope that I wedged under the base of the inversion table. She gave me her wrist, which I held over her head and tied together. I then pulled the rope taught so she couldn’t pull her arms down, and secured the rope at the base such that we could simply pull it from the other end to release her. I went downstairs looking for ice, but instead I found a popsicle. Watermelon and agave. No one else liked the flavor, so I took it in. I tortured her slowly for a while, dragging the top of the popsicle along the soles of her feet. This brought more screams than giggles, but a healthy mixture of both. Brii asked me why I hadn’t just grabbed ice cubes, which apparently I had not looked for in the right place, because she brought a little dish with a few. So I moved with my popsicle to her armpits and stomach while Brii carried on with her feet. After a few short minutes, we did away with the cold.
What came next was some pretty basic, run of the mill tickling of a hapless victim. Brii had started on her feet, but eventually had to take a call and left Alice and me to our on devices. As for me, I started by assaulting under her arms. Whenever it sounded like she was getting used to one spot, I switched. I went from under her arms to her sides and ribs. That one didn’t last very long, but then I moved to her stomach again, and that one had her guffawing for a while. Then I moved down to her hip bone and along her pelvis, right where most underwear stops. I love this part. It carries with it a mixture of surprised yell and intense laughter, and a special type of bucking. You know that right then your fingers are doing a mixture of tickle torture and teasing that is so intoxicating to see in your lee. Of course, from here I had no choice but to move down to the upper thigh. Again, with a clawed hand, pressing my fingertips (no nails!) along the inside of the upper thigh so that my fingers came close, but never touched, her pelvis, I quivered my fingers rapidly into a fast, firm massage. Mmm. It drove her wild. And that drove me wild; like the moment after taking a long, cool drink on a hot day with furious physical work, how it is both refreshing, but also somehow leaving you even more eager for the next sip.
Then it was time for another break. While she relaxed, I did a little bit of knismesis on her, rather than trying to tickle her for laughs. As I gently caressed her stomach with my fingertips, however, she became a giggling mess. I think the stimulation and the euphoria was leaving her particularly vulnerable at that point. Still, it seemed more enjoyable than anything, so I carried on, along her stomach, up and down her arms, down her legs, and even very gently on the soles of her feet.
After she’d caught her breath, I was ready to move into my end-game. I had two more moves that I was eager to use on her. The first: the drill. I asked her for permission to lower her down again. I wanted her feet taught for this, though obviously I didn’t ruin the surprise. She agreed, and so down she went. Once her feet were secure, I re-oiled them for the third time. And out came the drill. This she had experience with before. It’s one of my favorites, and it never fails to turn her into a mad, bucking, screaming mess. But this time it would be different. There would be no struggle trying to keep her foot steady. It made all the difference in the world. The moment the bristles of the hairbrush started rotating on her foot, she screamed. She bucked, and she thrashed, but her feet did not budge. I was able to focus on my technique with the drill in a way I’d never been able to before. I was able to hold it at just the right pressure, with just the right speed. It was visually mesmerizing to watch the way the bristles gently pushed and shaped the flesh of her soles. While the other techniques provided a more tactile feedback for me, the drill provided a unique layer of separate in which I could more readily enjoy up close the textures of her feet being tugged by the brush. Her screams changed to a long, uncontrollable stream of laughter that sounded like it was coming from the limits of her body. After every breath, this beautiful, melodic laughter would continue. That laughter was the crescendo for me. It was so pure, so unadulterated by scream or curse or pleading. Just peals after peals of laughter. Afterwards she said she hadn’t noticed, but the only unfortunate part of this portion of the session is that the foot-rest of the inversion table limited my movement a bit with the drill. I managed fine around it, but next time I will be replacing the permanent bolts with some which can be removed after the table has been tilted for clear access to the soles. She, however, hadn’t noticed and felt that I had been in no way hindered during that time.
To transition away from the drill, I donned the softer-bristled grooming glove and returned to her feet. You can’t use the drill on the toes. The toes are far too sensitive and fragile. And I had avoided them before with the other glove because I had foolishly been focusing on attacking the balls of her feet side-to-side. But with a renewed inspiration, I reached my gloved hand over her toes and onto the brutalized balls of her feet and started stroking backwards, so that the glove glided up over her toes rather than across. Her toes proved to be particularly sensitive, probably because they’d been ignored most of this time, and I discovered that there were still some screams left in her.
Finally down to my last act, I let her catch her breath while I got the electric toothbrush ready. For me, this means pulling off the tip so that the rotating head remains. For those of you unaware, most electric toothbrushes and personal grooming tools with detachable tips are operated by a single, oscillating rod. The rod oscillates in very small circles, making it seem and feel more like it’s vibrating than spinning. I moved to her upper body and started searching along her pelvis. My fingertips obviously tickled on their own quite a bit as I poked and prodded since she started giggling instantly, but this was purely unintentional, and I was hawkishly focused on my goal. I found the perfect spot: right on the inside of the hip, lower on the pelvis, but still touching the protruding hip-bone. Holding my left middle and index finger firmly on the spot, I turned the electric toothbrush to its max setting, inserted the rod between my fingers and her flesh so as to keep it tightly against that bone, and turned it on. The way she described it after-the-fact, was that the vibrating sensations just completely overtook her entire mind. That sensation became her entire existence. For me, it translated into a renewed couple of shouts that once again gave way to pure, unseasoned laughter. I held the toothbrush steady amidst her bucking, firmly in place with my two fingers, until I was satisfied.
We called it after that. In total, we were at it for roughly an hour. She was amazing. Her abs were definitely sore, and the experience was really intense. My wife left to visit her grandmother while I cooked Alice a steak dinner while we talked about the session, then life, politics, philosophy, and ended the night by watching an episode of Mr. Iglesias. Why I heartily recommend, by the way.
It was a good session. I’ll have to think about how to top it next time.
