That night, all I could do was think of her - Miss Miranda, that smile… that insane tickling torture she put me through. Locked in my chastity device, I couldn't even get a full hard-on, let alone give myself any pleasure. It was a new kind of agony.
I had to be back in the office at 8:00. I was thrilled. I was terrified. I wanted it more than anything and I also wanted to escape it more than anything. The thought of being made into Miss Miranda's tickle slave again just hit me right in the stomach with dread. But it also made my trapped cock ache.
I tossed and turned. Somehow, I must have fallen asleep because I startled awake when my alarm went off. There was nothing I could do but get ready for work. I showered, I shaved, I put on my suit and tie.
Anyone who saw me would think I was just another normal corporate lackey. They would have no idea about what racing thoughts were filling up my brain. And they would have no way of knowing about the weight of the cage I felt between my legs, reminding me of my predicament.
As I rode the elevator up to Miss Miranda's high rise suites, I felt my heart pounding in my chest and I heard it in my ears. Nobody around me seemed to pay me a second glance.
With a ding, the elevator hit my floor. I stepped out and made my way down the hall to the big, bright lobby. Emmaline was sitting there at her desk, smiling at me. She looked as cute as ever, with a bright yellow top that showed off her chest and contrasted nicely with her red hair.
"Good morning, Benson," she said, as though this was just a normal job, a normal workday. "Miss Miranda is ready for you. Go on in."
What else could I do? I slinked past the desk, trying not to make eye-contact with the secretary. She giggled at me as I passed and it made me walk faster. I knocked on the door and opened it up.
Miss Miranda was sitting on her desk with her legs crossed, one heeled foot on the chair I had sat in yesterday during my initial interview and the other bouncing in the air. She was the picture of money and power. And she was looking at me, drawing me in closer with her eyes and her smile. That amazing, hypnotic smile.
"Benson, my pet, you look so good today," she said. I felt a flutter in my chest as I came closer to her. "I can't wait to get our work started. Have you been a good boy?"
I didn't know what to say. "Uh-um. Well…"
She laughed at this and shook her head. In a smooth motion, she slipped down from the desk and began walking towards me. I froze. In her heels, she was the same height I was and her eyes were tied to mine. I couldn't look away. Her hand touched my chest and I shivered. She drew it up my neck and traced my ear. I gasped and tried not to flinch, but I couldn't help it. Her touch was electric.
"I think you've been naughty," she told me. "I think you've been trying to think of a way to get out of your contract. I think you considered not coming in to work today. Is it true?"
I felt my heart drop. In a rush, I confessed, "Yes, but I'm sorry Miss Miranda. I'm just—"
She put her finger to my lips to shush me. "Shhh. Benson. Don't talk. I understand. This is a very demanding job. It's a very—" She looked down at my pants, which made me remember the weight of the cock cage. She smirked as she finished, "— high pressure position. You're starting to get cold feet. But don't, Benson. Don't doubt yourself. You're perfect. You're everything I want…"
In that moment, I was like warm clay on the wheel in her hands. She could have asked me to walk into a furnace and I would have done it. But that's not what she asked.
"Follow me," she said. And she began walking, heels clicking softly on the polished floor. There was nothing I could do but obey. We left her office and began heading down the hall. There were so many doors. I wondered what could be behind them all. But my attention was drawn immediately back to my boss when she began speaking.
"Today, I have a very important meeting," Miss Miranda told me. "I found you just in time. I'm so happy. Don't worry about a thing. You'll do just fine."
She opened a set of double doors and ushered me inside. It was a big, spacious room with a full wall of windows. The curtains and blinds were open, letting in bright sunlight and a breathtaking view of the city below. She led me in towards a big table surrounded by chairs. It was a smooth, black, glossy surface, polished to reflect like a mirror. And it was fixed with some sturdy looking leather cuffs and straps.
I felt my heart in my throat. "M-Miss Miranda?"
"Take off your clothes," she said softly. "Down to your socks and underwear. And lie down on this table."
I sucked a deep breath and did as instructed. I carefully removed my jacket. As I slipped it off my shoulders, Miss Miranda reached in to remove my silk necktie for me. "You're shaking," she said. Her fingers slipped down to work on undoing all the buttons of my shirt. Breathier, she added, "It's intoxicating."
I was stunned mute. I felt my face and ears get hot. And I felt a heat between my legs. I didn't know what to say, but before I knew it, I was kicking off my shoes and slipping down my pants. I was just standing there in my socks and briefs. She put a hand on my bare back to coax me to the table and I moved. I climbed up on my hands and knees. I turned over to my back.
I stretched my arms up. She secured the cuffs there first around my wrists. They were thick and firm, but surprisingly comfortable. She moved around to my feet and secured each ankle. Then, she began to tighten straps to pull my limbs taut.
I gasped and tried to quiet my own racing breaths and drumming heartbeat. My legs were pulled apart but my wrists were close together overhead, putting me in an inverted Y on the table. When she was done with the straps, I could wiggle a bit, but I couldn't roll or turn.
Her fingers slid along my stomach and I felt a shock of ticklishness. I giggled. "Heehee. Oh, Miss Miranda… Please tell me you're not going to t-tickle me again." I could hardly say the t-word aloud, it was so embarrassing.
She leaned over me and smiled. Her long black hair dangled down over my skin and teased my chest. "I am going to tickle you," she said. "And so are my business associates. They'll be here any minute."
A jolt of alarm went through me. "Business associates? Miss Miranda, please don't. I don't know if I can deal with that."
She giggled and stroked down to my navel. I squeaked and shut my eyes. I felt her hands on my underwear and yelped. My eyes shot open and I lifted my head just in time to see her pull a key out of her cleavage. She reached down between my legs and I felt a click.
The cage released and my cock was freed. Already, immediately, I started to get firm.
"Oh, Benson," she tisked. "My tickle boy. We haven't even started." She delicately straightened out my underwear and left my cock untouched, with my boner pressing against constricting fabric. "It's going to be a very long day for you if you're already erect. My poor, poor boy."
She came back to my head with a strip of silk between her hands. As it got closer to my face, it blocked out my vision. She tied it firmly, blinding me effectively. I felt her fingers playing lightly on my neck. I squeaked and tried to tuck my chin down.
"You're going to be tested today, Benson. But there's something good in it for you at the end," she said. I felt my heart jump and I wanted to please her more than anything. "But remember, no matter who touches you today, you're mine and mine alone. I own you. I only share you because it excites me."
After that, I heard her say, "We're ready, Emmaline. Send the ladies in."
It took a few seconds before I began to hear footsteps. I couldn't see, but I could hear multiple pairs of high heels clicking against the floor. Miss Miranda introduced them all as they came in. "Oh, Beverly, so good to see you again. Dawn, always a pleasure. Tiffany, my friend, come in. June, Olivia, it's been too long. And none of you have met my new personal assistant. Here he is, my new wonderful tickle-slave."
"Oh, he's so cute."
"Isn't he?" Miss Miranda agreed.
"Is he very ticklish?"
"Oh, excruciatingly so," Miss Miranda said with a smile in her voice. "Isn't that so, tickle-boy?"
I gulped hard and answered, "Um! Y-yes?"
Five feminine laughs blended together around me.
They quieted and Miss Miranda spoke again. "For the first part of our meeting, feathers only. You can tickle him wherever you see skin." I felt a tug on my right sock. With dread, I realized she was pulling it off to expose my foot. "We'll pause for a break at nine thirty."
"N-nine thirty?" I couldn't believe it. It couldn't be past 8:15 now! I didn't know if I could handle being tickled for over an hour.
My right foot was bared and I immediately felt a trace of a stiff feather along my sole. It shocked me and I flinched, letting out a yelping laugh. "Aaah-ah-haaa haa!!"
"Ooh! He's so ticklish just from a feather? He's a wonderful toy, Miss Miranda!"
"Oh, isn't he?" Miss Miranda said again. "And it drives him absolutely insane as well. Doesn't it, tickle-boy?" I felt her tugging my left sock now and I shivered with anticipation.
But she asked me a question. I squirmed. "Y-yes."
The sock slid away and the feather teased this foot too, slipping between two middle toes. I arched up and shrieked a laugh "HEEE-HEE eeehee! Oh, p-please don't!"
"Tell them more," Miss Miranda prompted. The feather stopped, but rested in place against my bared sole. I tried to hold still.
"I…" I wasn't sure what to say. But I had to say something. "I c-can't stand it," I admitted. "I'm so ticklish. It drives me nuts."
"I can't wait," cried another voice. "Oh, let us tickle him too!"
I was absolutely terrified and humiliated beyond belief. A whole room full of evil women were really chomping at the bit to get a chance to tickle me?!
"Alright, ladies. Choose your feathers." There was a gleeful sound from the women all around me. I let out a small groan and tried to brace myself.
"Ready? Get set… Go."
I was not prepared for what I felt next. The light, maddening tickle of feathers came from all around me. My left side and right side were stroked up and down, from my waistband all the way up into my exposed armpits. They circled and swirled around, making sure to touch every bit of my torso and stomach, tracing the line of my underpants and swirling around my hypersensitive navel.
Someone was focused on tracing excruciating circles around my nipples and fluttering over the stiff peaks. Every now and then, this feather woud trace my collarbones and around my neck and chin and ears, then back down to the maddening hotspots of my nipples.
All the while, each foot had its own tormentor. Feathers whirled and traced up and down, following the lines and creases of my soles. My feet squirmed like crazy and tried to escape, but there was nowhere to turn. I tried to keep my toes pinched down, but the sensations made me flinch and twitch. And every time my toes moved just enough, a keen feather darted in, under, and between.
"EEE-heee heee HEEE! Ahhh! Nooo-hoooo!" I could hear my laughter in my ears. I wriggled like crazy as much as I could, but there was nothing I could do.
Even if it was just feathers, the maddening shock of light tickling to every bit of my bare skin was just more than I could handle. It lit my nerves on fire and drove me up the wall like nothing else. I couldn't stand it for five minutes, let alone an hour.
The longer it lasted, the more it seemed to build and I went from giggles and squeaks to scream-laughter and pleading in vain. "AAAAHHH HAAAAAH P-PLEEE-HEEEASE! Haahhh aaahhh. I CAA-HAAN'T. I CAAAN'T!"
I had no idea how long it had been or how long it would be. I felt hot and flushed and mercilessly ticklish all over. My cock was hard as hell, entrapped in my underwear. I wanted to buck, but the straps were too tight. I just shivered and jerked and laughed my head off.
I was starting to lose my breath. Every time I gasped, I yelled the air back out in a ticklish wail. "AAAHHH-HHHHHAAA!!"
I was getting light-headed. And that's when I heard Miss Miranda's voice. "Feathers back! Time for a two minute break."
Blessedly, every touch stopped. Every feather withdrew. I was limp and gasping on the table. Every breath went straight to my head, filling me with energy. "Ohhh… oh my god…"
"You're doing well, tickle-boy," Miss Miranda told me. "You're such a good slave. So ticklish, so helpless. I know how this drives you insane. Don't worry. I won't let you suffocate, my dear ticklish one."
"Wh-what time is it?" I asked. I knew that there would be a real break at 9:30, like she said. I hoped it wasn't far away.
"Tsk tsk." Miss Miranda clicked her tongue. "You'll know what time it is when I say it's break time. Alright. Two minutes are up. Ready-set-go!"
All at once, the feathers came back. I was already so sensitive, but the short break seemed to rejuvenate the sensitivity of my skin. It was a wild, ticklish jolt when they all came back at once. I gasped and it came back out in a squeal. "HEEEE- EEE HEEE HEE Ohmygod M-Miss Miranda-haaa!"
"You'd do anything to make it stop, wouldn't you, tickle-boy?" Her voice came from near my head. She must have been the one teasing my neck and ears and nipples. I shivered harder just hearing her say that. "It's driving you wild, out of your mind. You just can't stand it any more… But too bad. You have to. We're going to keep on tickling you. Tickle, tickle, tickle!"
My whole body was just one bundle of ticklish nerves, teased into hysteria from every direction. The feathers moved around and around every inch of my skin. Feathers moved up and down the inside of my legs, high up my ultra-ticklish inner thighs. They traced so attentively around the waist and legs of my briefs, but never even grazed the fabric near my dick.
I was dying. I was going to explode. No - I wanted to explode, but I couldn't. I needed some stimulation down there and no one would give it. Miss Miranda was right, I was going insane. I would do anything to get them to stop tickling me and stroke my dick instead.
I was laughing like crazy, but every time I could speak, I just begged, "PLEAASEEE HEEE HEEE PAH-LEE-HEEASEEE!"
It didn't do me any good. They just kept taunting and teasing and driving me mad.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle. Oh, you can't get away. Tickle, tickle…"
Every time I thought I'd suffocate or choke, Miss Miranda called for a short break. I'd get enough time to catch my breath and try to talk them out of it, but again, the feathers would start up again. It was the worst torture I could have imagined. And it just kept going….
Until, finally, "Oh my goodness! Look at the time! It's already ten o'clock! Feathers back, ladies! Oh my word, tickle-slave, I'm so sorry. I was having so much fun I forgot that we were supposed to stop half an hour ago! Alright, ladies, break time. Everyone meet back here in fifteen minutes. I want some time alone with my ticklish assistant."
The tickling stopped. My skin was still on fire with the ghost traces of it and I gasped deep lungfuls of air. I heard the heels clicking and murmuring voices trailing out of the room, giggling their own comments of "He's such a doll" and "Oh, Miss Miranda is so lucky to have him."
As I started to catch my breath and my breathing slowed, I realized the room was silent. We were alone.
I felt her body against mine as Miss Miranda climbed up onto the table. She straddled me, gripping my waist with her knees and settling her bottom down against my trapped erection. I moaned and tried to lift against her.
"Oh, Benson," she cooed. "You look so good." Soft hands smoothed gently up my bare torso, soothing my skin as if wiping the ticklishness away. "I could just kiss you all over. But not yet…"
"Please," I moaned needily. I wanted it so badly. I wanted her so badly. "Miss Miranda, please just kiss me. Please let me come. I'll do anything you want…"
She made a purr sound from deep in her throat that made my cock throb. "Benson," she said in her smooth, sultry voice. "What I want most is to torture you." I felt her fingertip start to trace around my nipple and it was an explosion of new, powerful ticklishness.
"AAAH-HAAH HAAAAH!" I yelped out a laugh. I couldn't stop myself. "Oh b-but you aaa-haa-haare! You already di-hiiid!!"
"It's not over, my pet. It's not nearly over," she told me, beginning to circle my other nipple too. The shock of it went straight down into my stomach and sent a jolt to my penis. "When the women come back, we start again for the second half of our meeting. And it won't be feathers this time."
Her weight shifted against me and I felt her breath on my ear. "All of them have beautiful manicured fingernails."
I gulped and yelped out. "Oh! OH, NO! M-Miss Miranda, PLEASE n-not that!"
"Oh yes," Miss Miranda giggled. "It's going to be out of this world, my tickle-pet. In just a few more minutes…"
I had to be back in the office at 8:00. I was thrilled. I was terrified. I wanted it more than anything and I also wanted to escape it more than anything. The thought of being made into Miss Miranda's tickle slave again just hit me right in the stomach with dread. But it also made my trapped cock ache.
I tossed and turned. Somehow, I must have fallen asleep because I startled awake when my alarm went off. There was nothing I could do but get ready for work. I showered, I shaved, I put on my suit and tie.
Anyone who saw me would think I was just another normal corporate lackey. They would have no idea about what racing thoughts were filling up my brain. And they would have no way of knowing about the weight of the cage I felt between my legs, reminding me of my predicament.
As I rode the elevator up to Miss Miranda's high rise suites, I felt my heart pounding in my chest and I heard it in my ears. Nobody around me seemed to pay me a second glance.
With a ding, the elevator hit my floor. I stepped out and made my way down the hall to the big, bright lobby. Emmaline was sitting there at her desk, smiling at me. She looked as cute as ever, with a bright yellow top that showed off her chest and contrasted nicely with her red hair.
"Good morning, Benson," she said, as though this was just a normal job, a normal workday. "Miss Miranda is ready for you. Go on in."
What else could I do? I slinked past the desk, trying not to make eye-contact with the secretary. She giggled at me as I passed and it made me walk faster. I knocked on the door and opened it up.
Miss Miranda was sitting on her desk with her legs crossed, one heeled foot on the chair I had sat in yesterday during my initial interview and the other bouncing in the air. She was the picture of money and power. And she was looking at me, drawing me in closer with her eyes and her smile. That amazing, hypnotic smile.
"Benson, my pet, you look so good today," she said. I felt a flutter in my chest as I came closer to her. "I can't wait to get our work started. Have you been a good boy?"
I didn't know what to say. "Uh-um. Well…"
She laughed at this and shook her head. In a smooth motion, she slipped down from the desk and began walking towards me. I froze. In her heels, she was the same height I was and her eyes were tied to mine. I couldn't look away. Her hand touched my chest and I shivered. She drew it up my neck and traced my ear. I gasped and tried not to flinch, but I couldn't help it. Her touch was electric.
"I think you've been naughty," she told me. "I think you've been trying to think of a way to get out of your contract. I think you considered not coming in to work today. Is it true?"
I felt my heart drop. In a rush, I confessed, "Yes, but I'm sorry Miss Miranda. I'm just—"
She put her finger to my lips to shush me. "Shhh. Benson. Don't talk. I understand. This is a very demanding job. It's a very—" She looked down at my pants, which made me remember the weight of the cock cage. She smirked as she finished, "— high pressure position. You're starting to get cold feet. But don't, Benson. Don't doubt yourself. You're perfect. You're everything I want…"
In that moment, I was like warm clay on the wheel in her hands. She could have asked me to walk into a furnace and I would have done it. But that's not what she asked.
"Follow me," she said. And she began walking, heels clicking softly on the polished floor. There was nothing I could do but obey. We left her office and began heading down the hall. There were so many doors. I wondered what could be behind them all. But my attention was drawn immediately back to my boss when she began speaking.
"Today, I have a very important meeting," Miss Miranda told me. "I found you just in time. I'm so happy. Don't worry about a thing. You'll do just fine."
She opened a set of double doors and ushered me inside. It was a big, spacious room with a full wall of windows. The curtains and blinds were open, letting in bright sunlight and a breathtaking view of the city below. She led me in towards a big table surrounded by chairs. It was a smooth, black, glossy surface, polished to reflect like a mirror. And it was fixed with some sturdy looking leather cuffs and straps.
I felt my heart in my throat. "M-Miss Miranda?"
"Take off your clothes," she said softly. "Down to your socks and underwear. And lie down on this table."
I sucked a deep breath and did as instructed. I carefully removed my jacket. As I slipped it off my shoulders, Miss Miranda reached in to remove my silk necktie for me. "You're shaking," she said. Her fingers slipped down to work on undoing all the buttons of my shirt. Breathier, she added, "It's intoxicating."
I was stunned mute. I felt my face and ears get hot. And I felt a heat between my legs. I didn't know what to say, but before I knew it, I was kicking off my shoes and slipping down my pants. I was just standing there in my socks and briefs. She put a hand on my bare back to coax me to the table and I moved. I climbed up on my hands and knees. I turned over to my back.
I stretched my arms up. She secured the cuffs there first around my wrists. They were thick and firm, but surprisingly comfortable. She moved around to my feet and secured each ankle. Then, she began to tighten straps to pull my limbs taut.
I gasped and tried to quiet my own racing breaths and drumming heartbeat. My legs were pulled apart but my wrists were close together overhead, putting me in an inverted Y on the table. When she was done with the straps, I could wiggle a bit, but I couldn't roll or turn.
Her fingers slid along my stomach and I felt a shock of ticklishness. I giggled. "Heehee. Oh, Miss Miranda… Please tell me you're not going to t-tickle me again." I could hardly say the t-word aloud, it was so embarrassing.
She leaned over me and smiled. Her long black hair dangled down over my skin and teased my chest. "I am going to tickle you," she said. "And so are my business associates. They'll be here any minute."
A jolt of alarm went through me. "Business associates? Miss Miranda, please don't. I don't know if I can deal with that."
She giggled and stroked down to my navel. I squeaked and shut my eyes. I felt her hands on my underwear and yelped. My eyes shot open and I lifted my head just in time to see her pull a key out of her cleavage. She reached down between my legs and I felt a click.
The cage released and my cock was freed. Already, immediately, I started to get firm.
"Oh, Benson," she tisked. "My tickle boy. We haven't even started." She delicately straightened out my underwear and left my cock untouched, with my boner pressing against constricting fabric. "It's going to be a very long day for you if you're already erect. My poor, poor boy."
She came back to my head with a strip of silk between her hands. As it got closer to my face, it blocked out my vision. She tied it firmly, blinding me effectively. I felt her fingers playing lightly on my neck. I squeaked and tried to tuck my chin down.
"You're going to be tested today, Benson. But there's something good in it for you at the end," she said. I felt my heart jump and I wanted to please her more than anything. "But remember, no matter who touches you today, you're mine and mine alone. I own you. I only share you because it excites me."
After that, I heard her say, "We're ready, Emmaline. Send the ladies in."
It took a few seconds before I began to hear footsteps. I couldn't see, but I could hear multiple pairs of high heels clicking against the floor. Miss Miranda introduced them all as they came in. "Oh, Beverly, so good to see you again. Dawn, always a pleasure. Tiffany, my friend, come in. June, Olivia, it's been too long. And none of you have met my new personal assistant. Here he is, my new wonderful tickle-slave."
"Oh, he's so cute."
"Isn't he?" Miss Miranda agreed.
"Is he very ticklish?"
"Oh, excruciatingly so," Miss Miranda said with a smile in her voice. "Isn't that so, tickle-boy?"
I gulped hard and answered, "Um! Y-yes?"
Five feminine laughs blended together around me.
They quieted and Miss Miranda spoke again. "For the first part of our meeting, feathers only. You can tickle him wherever you see skin." I felt a tug on my right sock. With dread, I realized she was pulling it off to expose my foot. "We'll pause for a break at nine thirty."
"N-nine thirty?" I couldn't believe it. It couldn't be past 8:15 now! I didn't know if I could handle being tickled for over an hour.
My right foot was bared and I immediately felt a trace of a stiff feather along my sole. It shocked me and I flinched, letting out a yelping laugh. "Aaah-ah-haaa haa!!"
"Ooh! He's so ticklish just from a feather? He's a wonderful toy, Miss Miranda!"
"Oh, isn't he?" Miss Miranda said again. "And it drives him absolutely insane as well. Doesn't it, tickle-boy?" I felt her tugging my left sock now and I shivered with anticipation.
But she asked me a question. I squirmed. "Y-yes."
The sock slid away and the feather teased this foot too, slipping between two middle toes. I arched up and shrieked a laugh "HEEE-HEE eeehee! Oh, p-please don't!"
"Tell them more," Miss Miranda prompted. The feather stopped, but rested in place against my bared sole. I tried to hold still.
"I…" I wasn't sure what to say. But I had to say something. "I c-can't stand it," I admitted. "I'm so ticklish. It drives me nuts."
"I can't wait," cried another voice. "Oh, let us tickle him too!"
I was absolutely terrified and humiliated beyond belief. A whole room full of evil women were really chomping at the bit to get a chance to tickle me?!
"Alright, ladies. Choose your feathers." There was a gleeful sound from the women all around me. I let out a small groan and tried to brace myself.
"Ready? Get set… Go."
I was not prepared for what I felt next. The light, maddening tickle of feathers came from all around me. My left side and right side were stroked up and down, from my waistband all the way up into my exposed armpits. They circled and swirled around, making sure to touch every bit of my torso and stomach, tracing the line of my underpants and swirling around my hypersensitive navel.
Someone was focused on tracing excruciating circles around my nipples and fluttering over the stiff peaks. Every now and then, this feather woud trace my collarbones and around my neck and chin and ears, then back down to the maddening hotspots of my nipples.
All the while, each foot had its own tormentor. Feathers whirled and traced up and down, following the lines and creases of my soles. My feet squirmed like crazy and tried to escape, but there was nowhere to turn. I tried to keep my toes pinched down, but the sensations made me flinch and twitch. And every time my toes moved just enough, a keen feather darted in, under, and between.
"EEE-heee heee HEEE! Ahhh! Nooo-hoooo!" I could hear my laughter in my ears. I wriggled like crazy as much as I could, but there was nothing I could do.
Even if it was just feathers, the maddening shock of light tickling to every bit of my bare skin was just more than I could handle. It lit my nerves on fire and drove me up the wall like nothing else. I couldn't stand it for five minutes, let alone an hour.
The longer it lasted, the more it seemed to build and I went from giggles and squeaks to scream-laughter and pleading in vain. "AAAAHHH HAAAAAH P-PLEEE-HEEEASE! Haahhh aaahhh. I CAA-HAAN'T. I CAAAN'T!"
I had no idea how long it had been or how long it would be. I felt hot and flushed and mercilessly ticklish all over. My cock was hard as hell, entrapped in my underwear. I wanted to buck, but the straps were too tight. I just shivered and jerked and laughed my head off.
I was starting to lose my breath. Every time I gasped, I yelled the air back out in a ticklish wail. "AAAHHH-HHHHHAAA!!"
I was getting light-headed. And that's when I heard Miss Miranda's voice. "Feathers back! Time for a two minute break."
Blessedly, every touch stopped. Every feather withdrew. I was limp and gasping on the table. Every breath went straight to my head, filling me with energy. "Ohhh… oh my god…"
"You're doing well, tickle-boy," Miss Miranda told me. "You're such a good slave. So ticklish, so helpless. I know how this drives you insane. Don't worry. I won't let you suffocate, my dear ticklish one."
"Wh-what time is it?" I asked. I knew that there would be a real break at 9:30, like she said. I hoped it wasn't far away.
"Tsk tsk." Miss Miranda clicked her tongue. "You'll know what time it is when I say it's break time. Alright. Two minutes are up. Ready-set-go!"
All at once, the feathers came back. I was already so sensitive, but the short break seemed to rejuvenate the sensitivity of my skin. It was a wild, ticklish jolt when they all came back at once. I gasped and it came back out in a squeal. "HEEEE- EEE HEEE HEE Ohmygod M-Miss Miranda-haaa!"
"You'd do anything to make it stop, wouldn't you, tickle-boy?" Her voice came from near my head. She must have been the one teasing my neck and ears and nipples. I shivered harder just hearing her say that. "It's driving you wild, out of your mind. You just can't stand it any more… But too bad. You have to. We're going to keep on tickling you. Tickle, tickle, tickle!"
My whole body was just one bundle of ticklish nerves, teased into hysteria from every direction. The feathers moved around and around every inch of my skin. Feathers moved up and down the inside of my legs, high up my ultra-ticklish inner thighs. They traced so attentively around the waist and legs of my briefs, but never even grazed the fabric near my dick.
I was dying. I was going to explode. No - I wanted to explode, but I couldn't. I needed some stimulation down there and no one would give it. Miss Miranda was right, I was going insane. I would do anything to get them to stop tickling me and stroke my dick instead.
I was laughing like crazy, but every time I could speak, I just begged, "PLEAASEEE HEEE HEEE PAH-LEE-HEEASEEE!"
It didn't do me any good. They just kept taunting and teasing and driving me mad.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle. Oh, you can't get away. Tickle, tickle…"
Every time I thought I'd suffocate or choke, Miss Miranda called for a short break. I'd get enough time to catch my breath and try to talk them out of it, but again, the feathers would start up again. It was the worst torture I could have imagined. And it just kept going….
Until, finally, "Oh my goodness! Look at the time! It's already ten o'clock! Feathers back, ladies! Oh my word, tickle-slave, I'm so sorry. I was having so much fun I forgot that we were supposed to stop half an hour ago! Alright, ladies, break time. Everyone meet back here in fifteen minutes. I want some time alone with my ticklish assistant."
The tickling stopped. My skin was still on fire with the ghost traces of it and I gasped deep lungfuls of air. I heard the heels clicking and murmuring voices trailing out of the room, giggling their own comments of "He's such a doll" and "Oh, Miss Miranda is so lucky to have him."
As I started to catch my breath and my breathing slowed, I realized the room was silent. We were alone.
I felt her body against mine as Miss Miranda climbed up onto the table. She straddled me, gripping my waist with her knees and settling her bottom down against my trapped erection. I moaned and tried to lift against her.
"Oh, Benson," she cooed. "You look so good." Soft hands smoothed gently up my bare torso, soothing my skin as if wiping the ticklishness away. "I could just kiss you all over. But not yet…"
"Please," I moaned needily. I wanted it so badly. I wanted her so badly. "Miss Miranda, please just kiss me. Please let me come. I'll do anything you want…"
She made a purr sound from deep in her throat that made my cock throb. "Benson," she said in her smooth, sultry voice. "What I want most is to torture you." I felt her fingertip start to trace around my nipple and it was an explosion of new, powerful ticklishness.
"AAAH-HAAH HAAAAH!" I yelped out a laugh. I couldn't stop myself. "Oh b-but you aaa-haa-haare! You already di-hiiid!!"
"It's not over, my pet. It's not nearly over," she told me, beginning to circle my other nipple too. The shock of it went straight down into my stomach and sent a jolt to my penis. "When the women come back, we start again for the second half of our meeting. And it won't be feathers this time."
Her weight shifted against me and I felt her breath on my ear. "All of them have beautiful manicured fingernails."
I gulped and yelped out. "Oh! OH, NO! M-Miss Miranda, PLEASE n-not that!"
"Oh yes," Miss Miranda giggled. "It's going to be out of this world, my tickle-pet. In just a few more minutes…"
