Hi all! Thank you for visiting my post.
Here I try to collect and share all weird fantasies of mine. I plan to update this post whenever a new chapter is finished and just add it below. I like the idea of being tickled in all kinds of ways. Therefore each chapter is about to be completely different.
-> f/m, ff/m, */m, m/f, */* robots, aliens, whatever I feel like.
One more thing: English is my 2nd language, so I really appreciate help for becoming a better writer. Whenever you spot a completely wrong word, grammar, typo, or could suggest better way to phrase something, please don’t hesitate and let me know!
And please don’t be mad if I don’t answer for weeks. I sometimes don’t find time to visit this place for weeks.
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Session 0 - The Arrival (*/none yet)
Yes. I’d like to be tickled. Like… a lot. More than I’d be willing to admit. And I want to be bound, strapped, restrained and shackled. Push me against a wall or force me down on my knees. Throw me on a soft bed or make me lie down on a rugged bench. Any furniture is fine. Just make sure I can’t escape or move. Because I need to be helpless and exposed. I need that permanent fight without hope.
This is important for my tickle endurance treatment. Scratch my soles and poke my navel. Pinch my ribs and let your fingers spider over my belly, up to my armpits and down to my privates. Test me. Make a map and give each body part a color. Find my limits and demonstrate to me how it feels to be driven beyond. Then drive me insane!
If possible bring a helping hand or two. Or four. Better ten. Maybe more. Make me count all the fingers while blindfolded. Bring all your nasty tools and try everything you wish. Feathers, brushes, vibrators… and make a ranking on how they perform on each spot. Then please go into overdrive.
And when you grant me a break I’d love to be teased and edged for an eternity. I crave it. My private parts not only need to be stimulated - execute overstimulation. Post orgasm torture. Make me sensitive with vibrations, stroke my shaft as a reward. Deny any orgasm and always return to the tickle torture. Please spread my legs and make sure to keep them apart. Because I want to be helpless as you massage my glans in a circle motion. I cannot take that. I will buckle and squirm, or at least I will try. Give me heaven and hell - before, during and after orgasm. Don’t wonder if I am able to take this. I can’t. Rather complement this treatment with relentless tickling on my inner thighs, crotch and groin. Don’t feel sorry. Just continue. No matter what.
I need help with that. I cannot do that on my own. I have so many fantasies. Please make them come true. Please. I beg you.
Suddenly, I was sitting in a room. Alone. All white. The floor was white, the walls were white. And also the ceiling. White. The chair was blue – made out of wood. And next to me I noticed a small table. There was a note on it. “Peek through the key hole and see what you desire. Go through the door to experience it.”
I looked up. I had no idea where the door came from. It was also blue. Wooden. With a keyhole. For a moment I just sat there and was overwhelmed. I looked at the door in disbelief. How did I get here? Where was I? And… why? I glanced back at the table but the note was different. “Isn’t this what you wished for?”, it said. I took the note and flipped it. The back was empty. And when I flipped it back the text was different again. “If you don’t want it just wish for an exit.” Goosebumps ran over my arm. For a while I stared at the note but it didn’t change. This was creepy. Really creepy. All right. I went to the door and peeked through the keyhole. There was my room. My bedroom. And somebody was sleeping in my bed. No, not somebody. That was me. I was watching myself sleeping in my own bed. Confused and frightened I got up and opened the door. I was relieved to find out that it was not locked. I made one step as I noticed the text had changed again. “Seriously? I’m disappointed. But fine. Do what you really want.” I froze. “What do you mean?”, I said out loud. I flipped the paper around to make the text change. “I am offering exactly what you wish for.” “What do you mean?”, I asked but I felt like I knew the answer. “Yes, you know the answer. Do it.” I closed the door and took a deep breath. “Good boy. Now look again”, the note said as it was reading my thoughts.
“What I really wish for…” I mumbled and carefully looked through the keyhole again. This time the room was different. It was dark, padded in black, shiny latex. My heart started racing. There was a chair. Padded in black leather. Straps everywhere. The arm rests started moving, pulling the arms into a T-position, then in a circle route up above the head. The foot rest split and demonstrated its capability to put its guest into a spread-eagle position. Then it transformed into a gyn chair. That thing was intimidating. It moved back and forth, turned from a rack into a rotating Saint Andrew Cross, and back into a dentist chair. I slowly got the intention the chair was alive and knew I was watching. Like it was bragging and daring me, inviting me to step through the door and take a seat. Suddenly all around the chair machinery appeared out of their hiding spots. Robotic arms with fingers and brushes. Some devices were mounted on the floor or were attached to the ceiling. Others were part of the chair, sneaked around from under and behind the paddings. All those metal arms and carbon tentacles waved and danced over the chair, clearly missing a body to dig into. It was mesmerizing just to look at it. And of course, waiting near the crotch area, there was the milker. It pumped and rotated, stroked and sucked, and finally released a set of rubber tendrils which looked eager to tease my groin and more.
I don’t know for how long I watched the spectacle. But suddenly the chair slowed down and returned to its default standby position. The tickle devices retreated into their hiding spots, hatches closed, all went silent. My heart was pounding like a steam train. Sweat ran down my forehead. Yes, this was what I always wished for. My dream came true. And all I needed to do was stepping through the door. I hesitated, of course. The note said: “Don’t peek twice if you like what you see.” I paused. I don’t know why but I was so confused I wasn’t sure if I had to peek twice now… My train of thoughts didn’t make sense, not even to me. Anyway, I ended up looking through the keyhole again. There was no chair anymore. Now there was a white room. Instead of an AI-robot chair there was a long, white bondage table. On the table there was a beautiful nurse, sitting and waiting. She was dressed in a tight revealing latex uniform. In her hand she was holding a feather. She smiled as she met my gaze and winked. I stumbled back. The note was right. I shouldn’t have peeked twice if I had liked the chair. “Yes, the room changes every time you peek. Step in or peek again.” Okay, I thought, one more peek.
Now there was a big round room. A sphere. All made out of glass like a winter garden. The sky was filled with stars, providing the room with dim light. Strange plants were growing everywhere. There were purple trees with long liana and fat fleshy leaves, reminding me of venus fly traps.
A large, spongy coral reef with millions of tendrils grew on the left. Some sort of jellyfish lived there in symbiosis, hidden in the holes. Now and then a few of them flew out of their hiding spot, floated around their home as if they were weightless and dashed back into the coral reef. It seemed like they played a game, some kind of tag mixed with hide and seek. I don’t know why, but to me they looked bored.
On the right there was a huge hive made out of flesh. It stretched and breathed, flexed relaxed and segregated clear fluids into a flat pond. It was populated by bugs and creatures which were as big as cats and bigger! There were tall spiders with thin legs covered in colorful fur and feathers. Some kind of stag beetle in shiny black armor and with four strong mandibles opened its slime dripping mouth and showed a dozen tongues as it yawned. There were long caterpillars with feathers and millipedes with three fingers on each leg. An army of disciplined ants patrolled the borders and slimy slugs wrestled each other with their immense feelers. There was a woodlouse lying on its back taking a sun bath. I somehow wanted to lie down in it as if it was a tingly sun lounger.
In the center there was a pool, filled with green slime. Big lazy bubbles popped now and then, showing the density of the goo. I felt like betting there was a big playful tentacle beast waiting for pray.
I guessed this was the science fiction scenario for a lost astronaut, exploring the wilderness of the universe. This was a zoo without fences, an alien conservatory. Calm and in harmony, waiting for a stupid human to disturb the peace.
“Just saying…”, the note wrote. “This is the hub. Not a cinema.” I moved from one leg to the other. Was I ready for some aliens destroying my sanity? Should I give these creatures some skin for licking and sucking? This room was so full of tendrils, could I take it? “Well, it’s your mind making up that stuff. Not me”, the note complained. “Yeah, but…” I hesitated. “But what?”, the note demanded. “I don’t know…” My hand was shaking as I moved the door knob. No, that was too much. The seconds ticked away. I was frozen.
“I guess you need a little push”, the note said, “How about that? This is your last choice. Take this room or the next.” What would the next room be, I wondered? I walked around, not sure if I should just go on this creepy alien tour or… or what? “If you go home without enduring some tickling I will never invite you back”, the note wrote threatening. I gulped. The fear was intense, but so was my longing. Last chance… All I ever dreamed of was behind that door. “I don’t think I a ready for this”, I whispered. “Your loss…” the note answered. “No… I mean yes… I mean… I’m not ready for that alien thing… I guess…” Oh my god. There were so many things in that garden. Really scary things. The next scenario. I will take the next scenario. I promise. “Then peek one last time”, the note agreed.
With shaking legs I kneeled down one more time. I peeked through the keyhole and looked stunned into the room on the other side. It was black. Pitch black. Nothing to see. “You promised”, the note said. But how was I able to see what I was getting into? There was no… no… oh… yeah… I understood. There was no warning this time. I would have to open the door into the unknown.
“Yep”, the note confirmed.
Yep. I had promised. I took a big breath and closed my eyes. This was what I wanted for so long. And I would never forgive me if I chickened out. “Am I in danger?” I asked out loud. “It’s your phantasy”, the note said. Right. My wildest dream. I pushed down the handle. The door opened with a loud creak. The light in the hub went off. All was dark. There was no sound. Only my footsteps echoed from the walls. The note in my hand was now written with delicate lines in luminescent ink. There was a sentence which made my blood freeze. “Take off your clothes.” The words faded. Then the paper crumbled through my shaking fingers. Carefully I sat down. The floor was soft and warm, with a nice touch like faux leather. I took off my shoes and put them on my right. I pulled off my shirt and tried to put it on the same spot. My shoes were gone. I searched a little bit. They were nowhere to find. Same for my shirt. It just had vanished into thin air as soon as I had dropped it. Yeah, that helplessness and obedience was kind of the thing I found so very erotic. I was so excited and afraid. Full of regret and anticipation, I shoved off my pants. My socks. My underwear. I was nude. Alone. Lost. Not ready. And hard. My hand grabbed my shaft, not sure if it should stroke or hide the erection.
“Finally,” a soft voice said. “Time for your punishment.”
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Session 1 - The Punishment (****/m)
“Finally,”, a soft voice said. “Time for your punishment.” I braced myself, tensed up and got ready for anything to happen. But nothing happened. There was only darkness and silence. I gulped. Again, I searched the floor for my clothes but all I could feel was the warm leather tiles. Nothing. On my knees I tried to fumble for the door I came through but even the wall behind me was gone. There wasn’t even an echo. Then, without any warning the room slowly lit up. And what I saw made my blood freeze. I had often fantasized about the perfect bondage furniture for trapping a ticklish body – my ticklish body, to be more specific. The question had been: which concept would provide the highest immobility while exposing as much skin as possible? The answer was now right in front of me: A kneeling chair with a Y-shape back rest made out of solid metal bars. Straps and pads were all in the right spots to hold everything in place. Two leg rests with thick straps were waiting for my shinbones, mounted on rails which enabled the device to spread my legs wide apart. The pads for my spine weren’t just supposed to prohibit my lower body to convulse. These pads were attached to pistons promising a devious stretching experience for my abdominal skin. The Y-shaped bars had thick leather cuffs for my wrists. They were dangling on iron chains attached to winches. To round this all up there were more straps for my upper and lower arms. Between the Y-Bars there was a head rest with another strap for my forehead. This thing promised everything but mercy.
Suddenly a dark female figure stepped out of the shadows. I startled and tried to step back, but instead I stumbled against a second one. My wrists were grabbed, left and right. And before I knew it I was surrounded by four black shiny mannequins. I lost balance and almost fell down. They caught me and pulled me up without effort. Their immense strength didn’t match their slender appearances. With ease they forced my arms behind my back as if I was a toy puppet. I had no choice but surrender. Their firm grip was inescapable. Their skin felt soft and their hands were warm. I couldn’t spot any eyes or breathing holes. If these were women in catsuits they would suffocate. No, these creatures were made out of rubber or something. Maybe robots covered in a silicone skin or living goo in shape of women. Maybe something in between? Maybe both. My heart was racing, I was afraid. But surprisingly deep down I felt… well… “in good hands” you could say. Yes. There was no doubt. Those creatures were actually no strangers to me. In the past I had fantasized a lot about all kinds of lers. Those dominant rubber mannequins were one of many friends I kept in my kinky mind palace. That palace was home to hundreds of “little helpers” for boring nights and a boner in my hand, with hundreds of floors and rooms where my fantasies became more colorful with every stroke and edge. The idea of such a mannequin had been born in my head long ago. That day I had been shopping for clothes. I had passed by a store window witnessing a saleswoman rearranging black shiny mannequins. It was such a fascinating random moment that I never would forget. Since that very day those mannequins had held a special place in my memories. They visited me sometimes when I needed an uncomplicated nice daydream while stroking my boner. I never wrote about them, I never drew a picture. They only lived in my head – until now. I was sure that somehow the note found this memory in my head. If I hadn’t guessed it before this was my proof. Some mind reading stuff was going on for sure. The kneeling chair, the creatures, everything felt familiar. One mannequin held the white note in her hands. The note said “Enjoy”. A thrilling fear overcame my brain. Adrenalin shot into my bloodstream and thrived it into my erection.
The mannequins started to inspect me. A single movement from one was instantly complemented by the others. They turned me around and grabbed my limbs, passed them on like a thing to hold on for just a moment. They touched my cheeks and pinched my nipples. They inspected me like a stuffed animal and their faceless heads tilted left and right as I squirmed around. Then I noticed a hand stroking softly over my stomach. As the index finger aimed for my belly button I lost it. I tried to break free. I pulled and flinched, not sure how to succeed or where to go. Like a wounded animal I tried to kick and push back. This little outburst didn’t last long. From behind a hand grabbed by jaw and another hand my neck. My fight-or-flight impulse turned into freeze mode immediately. I felt panic rising but the same time something deep inside my heart was relieved that my escape didn’t work. I wasn’t even sure if I actually wanted to flee if I had a choice. No. To be brutally honest, if I had broken free it would have come back to apologize and to beg to continue.
Yes, this helplessness was exactly what I had always silently craved for. She released my jaw and pulled me with both arms into an iron hug. I sighed. I didn’t dare to resist. Her breasts felt soft and warm on my shoulder blades. It caused a cozy shiver down my back. Then I felt the finger poke around my belly button. I tensed and squirmed just a little, not daring to evade the sensation this time. It drew a few circles until the finger wiggled its way into my navel. “Argh,” I groaned involuntarily. My breath got quicker. It was a strange sensation, it felt so weird and intrusive. These creatures demonstrated their power over me. They didn’t ask, gave no warning. They just held my body in place and touched me however they desired. As if I was their toy. A squirming puppet pet toy. And it was play time. Knowing that this hand was just right above my stone hard penis made my shaft pulsate.
With the finger still massaging my belly button they pushed me towards the kneeling chair. I had no chance to comply. They just grabbed my legs and carried me the last two steps. They forced me to kneel on the leather pads and while one of them held my feet in place another one attached the straps around my ankles. Two more straps around the calves made sure that I was unable to lift my knees even an inch. Then the mannequin hugging me from behind pulled me backwards and pushed my shoulder blades against the tiny leather back rest. A thin manacle cushioned with tiny silicone balloons clasped around my ribcage. A sharp metal “Click” shackled my upper body, followed by a fizz while the balloons slowly inflated. I tried to convulse into fetal position to escape the finger in my bellybutton, but I hit the second leather pad with my lower spine immediately. The pad hummed and the piston pushed my abdomen forward without much of a discussion. Slowly my belly was stretched more and more and the finger poked deeper and deeper into my navel. The more I sucked in my belly the more the piston pushed me forwards. My squirming was futile before and now I wasn’t even able to move. While my arms were pulled above my head I could feel my feet being placed in a carbon frame. Solid rings clamped securely around my toes and pulled them back with a ratchet noise. I couldn’t move my arches anymore. At the same time straps entangled my arms and held them firmly attached to the Y-frame. The strap around my forehead made sure that I wasn’t even able to shake my head anymore. The winches attached to the wrist cuffs came to life and took the last few inches of wiggle room from my arms.
All went silent. I was restrained. Fully restrained. Any motion denied. Every single bone in my body was locked in place. The mannequin in front of me stared at my face. She kept her finger in my navel as if it was supposed to stay there forever. Every time I breathed in I could feel it poking deeper. And every time I exhaled the tension relaxed. Two mannequins walked around me as they gazed at my helpless body. The fourth seemed to wait behind me for a signal. I could feel her hands hovering at my sides. The seconds ticked away and I got more and more anxious. Out of curiosity I confirmed my immobility. No chance, it was close to zero. Only my fingers were able to move freely. The rest of my body was frozen in time. The mannequin observed my attempts like a child would watch a goldfish. I sighed in defeat. There was nothing left I could do. I sunk into my restraints, relaxed my muscles well knowing that I should enjoy this rest. It didn’t take long. I took a breath or two. Then it begun.
The two mannequins walking around me positioned themselves to my sides, left and right. They kneeled down and started petting my calves while the mannequin behind me softly caressed my nipples. I could feel my skin tingle all over. Slowly the fingers drew their paths closer and closer to my armpits and heels. I already held my breath just out of anticipation. My soles felt hot. Goosebumps ran all over my arms and down my back. I wasn’t ready as the first touches hit the right spots. I jolted electrified and screamed in despair as the sudden attacks happened. They retrieved only to come back a moment later. First the attacks only lasted for a blink, they were over as soon as they started. But time after time the attacks lasted a bit longer. Soon I got what I had wished for. Ten fingers begun dancing over each foot, soft and evil featherlike sensations from toe to heel. I couldn’t do anything about it. I tried to wiggle and shake my foot to escape the systematic crawling. But my toes were shackled and my soles couldn’t move an inch. I had to take every single touch exactly as it came. My armpits met no different fate. First in circles, then up and down right into the center, relentlessly searching for an even better angle. The mannequin in front of me started caressing my midriff with her free hand. The finger in my bellybutton started wiggling again like a homeless worm to find the one tiny spot which made my whole abdomen jolt in some unholy mixture of painful tickles and pleasant uncomfortable massage. I tried to suck in my belly but it was in vain. The other fingers danced right below my solar plexus which made my midriff muscles contract and quiver. Soon my body struggled with the command from my brain to relax a bit – so I was able to take a deep breath. But the air in my lungs was pressed out as soon as it entered. A lifetime passed. The soft sensations teasing my skin drove off every single thought in my brain. All I could think about was how to make it to the next breath as I laughed silently from one second to the next. Sweat accumulated around my head strap and started to run over my ears and drip on my shoulders. The soft fingers just continued their game. Most time they just danced around the hot spots in a threatening and teasing manner. At some point they suddenly attacked right into it. Sometimes the fingers retreated instantly, sometimes they tickled for an eternity. For a while they took turns. First the feet, then the armpits. Back to the feet, then the hand on my stomach dug into my flesh. The more time went by the more often they attacked simultaneously and remained longer. I had no control. My muscles tried their best. They tensed and cramped, quivered and shivered. But they could do nothing against the kneeling chair, which made sure to display my skin like a canvas on a frame.
My whole body was tingling and cramping. The tickling sensation itself was more or less endurable. It was the anticipation that gave me a hard time. To get a breath in I had to mobilize all my willpower to relax some abdominal muscles, no matter what the black shiny hands were doing to my belly. I wasn’t able to predict an attack to sneak in a breath during a light teasing period. Even worse - sometimes I felt like the fingertips softly dancing over my belly were actually just waiting to capture the tender flesh off guard. At some point I was so exhausted and desperate for air that I would have done anything to make it stop. Just a few seconds. I felt my limit approaching, soon they were just a few touches away. I needed to breathe. I needed a break so desperately that I would have done literally anything. I tried to beg. I tried to communicate. But I got what I was here for. They drove me to my limits. And not only that. They were on a mission. My limits were just a milestone on the journey. They were ready to take me beyond. I knew it was coming. Panic and desperation flooded my thoughts, not sure if I should fear or welcome the possibility of passing out. My muscles drained the oxygen out of my blood and left my head in a dizzy state. The alarming sensations from my feet and torso slowly became more of a nuisance than a torture – at least compared to the suffocation I was threatened with. After all, didn’t I already admit to myself that the tickling was not that bad at all? I was holding back, yes. I didn’t dare to commit. I didn’t dare to laugh.
I could feel something snap in my brain. This must have been the moment crossing the line. The snapping was not a sound or a sensation, it was an insight into my own behavior. All my feelings and reactions were presented to me like a schematic or a map. And realizing the truth was mindboggling. This wasn’t my tickling limit. I could take so much more. The only reason I couldn’t breathe was a devastating fact I knew all along. I just instinctively refused to even admit that there was a simple solution. Since I actually feared ne text touch way more than enduring the tickling at the very moment the biggest enemy was my fighting instinct. I was able to breathe all along. I just held on some illusion of control to tense up and defend my mental vulnerability. This realization was the key. And the desperate need for air was my unstoppable motivation to open a door which was there all along. I just had been too close minded to even consider this option. Everything changed as soon as I surrendered my willpower. I gave up my dignity and surrendered into the sensations. I kind of chose the freedom of breathing over a defensive mindset. I chose to endure the stimulation I was given, and I chose to accept the intensity it was given to me.
With this decision came not only a change in my emotions, but a domino effect rolled over my mind. The flood gates opened just a bit. I started giggling. The sound of my voice startled me and I retreated back into silent laughing and suffocating. The embarrassment was shocking. I sounded like a silly, stupid child. No way I could do this. My lungs were screaming even louder for air, now that a solution was found. I had no choice. The embarrassment started to feel like a sweeter deal with each passing second. So, I dared to trade a few giggles for air and tensed back into silent laughter. One trade, then another, just a few now and then. This went on and on, a giggle here, a breath there. I tried to hide the obvious at first, tried to giggle not too loud – without much success. The dance on my soles made my voice go high and made me sound like a cute girly cheerleader. The tender pokes and cheeky pinches on my belly made me groan like an idiot. And stroking my armpits made me snicker like Donald Duck. If I hadn’t been so ashamed I would have laughed at me myself, the sounds were way too funny. Surprisingly the mannequins didn’t seem to care. They just went on and behaved as if they couldn’t hear anything. Or worse, maybe they didn’t care. Slowly I realized that even in this situation I wouldn’t allow myself to stand by my kink and live it out. And who was I kidding but myself? I couldn’t do anything about it anyways. It was a strange feeling. Like a hint of trust growing inside me, that my very own creatures would never hurt me anyway. They kept offering a gift and waited patiently for me to take it. The nasty tickling and teasing, not giving me any break, driving me into suffocation, was actually very sympathetic. I had asked for this. I was still asking for more. But without opening up to myself there was nothing more they could offer. The mannequin in front of me nodded. She didn’t seem insulted or impatient, but curious for how long I would remain in denial. Now I felt stupid for not acting like an idiot. Such a predicament, and such an easy solution. Yes. This was really the hardest part. I started trusting them not to judge me too harsh for my giggling. It was just really difficult to do so without having some kind of proof first.
Finally, I made my choice. I didn’t want to fight the urge any more. And I couldn’t. My stubbornness was a burden and got too heavy to carry. It was like a heavy weight was crushing me and I was now ready to let go. I gave in, took the risk to sink deeper into the experience – like stepping slowly into a swimming pool – but with surprisingly pleasant warm water. My fear faded. It was a relief giving up any illusion of control. I had begged for it from the beginning and I still did. Yes, I needed to enjoy the moment. No more worries what the next second would bring. No more worries what someone else would think about me. No more fear of being a disgusting freak. I guess this was the first time I experienced not only pure submission, but freedom to be myself. With deep breaths I let the fingertips dig and pinch, tease and play. This was their decision now. I offered them myself: my body, my trust, my feeling of security, and my honest reactions to everything they did. I took a deep breath and let go. I just laughed and laughed, roaring moans, shrill creaks, and so many idiotic giggles. With my new permission to be myself I started to live in two places at once. I hoped for a break but without the tickling to stop. On the one hand I was craving for more. On the other hand, I was horrified to meet my tickling limit. And on all other hands – which were playing me like an instrument - I knew they were holding back. This was no tickle torture. Not yet. Their body language and movements felt relaxed and playful, sometimes even bored. I was absolutely sure that this was nothing more than a little funny exploration and teasing. This was the rehearsal before the big show.
The mannequin in front of me tilted her head as if she was asking a question. She really expected me to admit it, to speak it out loud? Weren’t even the tiles in this room able to read my mind? I wondered if this was really necessary – she nodded amused. All right. I took a very deep breath and with a roaring laugh I shouted: “Please tickle me!”.
She shook her head. No. Not enough.
All right. “Please…” I managed to vocalize between giggles.
The mannequins suddenly stopped. No more tickling. Just the sound of my lungs gasping for air. All of them lined up in front of me, crossing their arms in expectation. The silence was awkward. Deep inside me I sensed that they demanded pure consent.
It felt so very difficult to ask for it. To admit my kink. But the real horror overcame me as I feared the risk of loosing this chance. The chance for a unique experience, maybe the only chance to live this fantasy.
“Honestly, I mean it”, I whispered skittishly. “I’m sure I can take more. Please. Take me to my limit. Please!” I gulped. “And further. All the way down. Please!”
Still silence.
It was so hard to say it out loud. I had to close my eyes. “Sorry for holding back. It was stupid.” I begged desperately, afraid of being released here and now. “Thank you. Thank you for doing this.” I tried pleading. “Please don’t stop now.” I didn’t know how to be more specific. “Please, DESTROY ME!”, I shouted in desperation.
For a second, I was afraid of the incoming storm I tried to summon. “I just might need a glass of water…”, I added quickly.
I opened my eyes. And in front of me was the mannequin from the center, holding a glass of water with a straw. “No tickling while drinking?” I asked carefully. She nodded. Greedily I tried to empty the glass but the flow didn’t run dry. I was sure it should have been empty three times by now. A “thank you” made the mannequin step back, the glass in her hand was still full. I didn’t care to question the rules in this fantasy world. Nice trick, I thought. Good enough for me.
“So?”, I asked worried. “I’m still here…”, I joked nervously.
The mannequin held up the note. “Ready for your punishment?”, it said.
I tried to nod. “Yes, please”, I gasped in relief.
The sound of steps approaching from behind made my back shiver – soft rubber feet on warm tiles coming closer and closer. I got ready for everything while the other mannequins still watched me with crossed arms. My head strap was removed. I shook my head and stretched my neck. Then I saw it. A red rubber hand snaked around my waist, all shiny with delicate fingers. And slowly, very slowly, it moved towards my penis which pumped in excitement, almost as if it tried to meet halfway. This didn’t feel like a punishment. I tried to look back but with my chest shackled to the frame I couldn’t spot anything. I looked back down, mesmerized by the hand putting just the tip of a finger on my glans. I moaned silently and the hand retreated. This became really frustrating. The tension, the anticipation was so intense, I was completely lost now. What the hell was going on? The red mannequin stepped around and presented herself in front of me. In her hands she held a wrapped gift. It was dark blue with a golden ribbon. With ceremonial passion she pulled the ribbon and ripped off the paper to reveal a brown box. I couldn’t peek inside as she removed the lid. The leg rests started humming and moving. My legs spread wider and wider and my penis twitched eagerly. Finally, she revealed the content of the box. In her hand was nothing more than the alarm clock from my bedroom. Confusion came and was quickly replaced by disappointment. The alarm clock showed 6:29. One minute until the alarm was about to go off. I shook my head slowly. “Please don’t…”, I begged. “Not like this.”
A black mannequin brought me the note. It said “See you soon?”
“Okay, sure…” I reconfirmed quickly. “Yes, anytime! Please don’t be mad at me!”
The alarm clock flickered to 6:30 and a loud buzzing sound ripped me out of my fantasy. I opened my eyes. I was in my bed. The sheets were soaked in sweat. My pillow was soaked in sweat. I was soaked in sweat. The alarm clock on my side table showed 6:30. It was not buzzing. It took me a minute in silence. It was weekend. Sunday. My alarm clock was turned off! Had I just woken up by the noise of a dream version of my alarm clock? And wasn’t this my week off? Damn it. What a frustrating way to start a day. I could have slept for another hour, two hours! I could have slept the whole day! Why did this dream have to end?!
I moaned. My cock was rock hard and dripping. ‘Not here’, I said to myself. I got up and hurried to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and got rid of my shirt and underwear. My penis felt so good in my hands. This wouldn’t take long, no doubt. Steam formed in the air and treated my lungs with humid air. “What a crazy dream”, I thought. “What an amazing dream…” And just as I was about to step under the hot water a message appeared on the fogged-up mirror. Clear letters on my mirror said: “Would you mind waiting until tonight?” I closed my eyes in disbelief and shook my head. When I looked back the message had changed, just like the words on the note from my dreams. “Good boys will be rewarded tonight.”
“Okay”, I whined with a shiver and let my penis go. I was so irritated. “This will be a hard day, I guess…”.
“Don’t worry”, my mirror said. “It will be a much harder night.”
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Session 3 - ????????
(maybe soon, maybe not)
Here I try to collect and share all weird fantasies of mine. I plan to update this post whenever a new chapter is finished and just add it below. I like the idea of being tickled in all kinds of ways. Therefore each chapter is about to be completely different.
-> f/m, ff/m, */m, m/f, */* robots, aliens, whatever I feel like.
One more thing: English is my 2nd language, so I really appreciate help for becoming a better writer. Whenever you spot a completely wrong word, grammar, typo, or could suggest better way to phrase something, please don’t hesitate and let me know!
And please don’t be mad if I don’t answer for weeks. I sometimes don’t find time to visit this place for weeks.
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Session 0 - The Arrival (*/none yet)
Yes. I’d like to be tickled. Like… a lot. More than I’d be willing to admit. And I want to be bound, strapped, restrained and shackled. Push me against a wall or force me down on my knees. Throw me on a soft bed or make me lie down on a rugged bench. Any furniture is fine. Just make sure I can’t escape or move. Because I need to be helpless and exposed. I need that permanent fight without hope.
This is important for my tickle endurance treatment. Scratch my soles and poke my navel. Pinch my ribs and let your fingers spider over my belly, up to my armpits and down to my privates. Test me. Make a map and give each body part a color. Find my limits and demonstrate to me how it feels to be driven beyond. Then drive me insane!
If possible bring a helping hand or two. Or four. Better ten. Maybe more. Make me count all the fingers while blindfolded. Bring all your nasty tools and try everything you wish. Feathers, brushes, vibrators… and make a ranking on how they perform on each spot. Then please go into overdrive.
And when you grant me a break I’d love to be teased and edged for an eternity. I crave it. My private parts not only need to be stimulated - execute overstimulation. Post orgasm torture. Make me sensitive with vibrations, stroke my shaft as a reward. Deny any orgasm and always return to the tickle torture. Please spread my legs and make sure to keep them apart. Because I want to be helpless as you massage my glans in a circle motion. I cannot take that. I will buckle and squirm, or at least I will try. Give me heaven and hell - before, during and after orgasm. Don’t wonder if I am able to take this. I can’t. Rather complement this treatment with relentless tickling on my inner thighs, crotch and groin. Don’t feel sorry. Just continue. No matter what.
I need help with that. I cannot do that on my own. I have so many fantasies. Please make them come true. Please. I beg you.
Suddenly, I was sitting in a room. Alone. All white. The floor was white, the walls were white. And also the ceiling. White. The chair was blue – made out of wood. And next to me I noticed a small table. There was a note on it. “Peek through the key hole and see what you desire. Go through the door to experience it.”
I looked up. I had no idea where the door came from. It was also blue. Wooden. With a keyhole. For a moment I just sat there and was overwhelmed. I looked at the door in disbelief. How did I get here? Where was I? And… why? I glanced back at the table but the note was different. “Isn’t this what you wished for?”, it said. I took the note and flipped it. The back was empty. And when I flipped it back the text was different again. “If you don’t want it just wish for an exit.” Goosebumps ran over my arm. For a while I stared at the note but it didn’t change. This was creepy. Really creepy. All right. I went to the door and peeked through the keyhole. There was my room. My bedroom. And somebody was sleeping in my bed. No, not somebody. That was me. I was watching myself sleeping in my own bed. Confused and frightened I got up and opened the door. I was relieved to find out that it was not locked. I made one step as I noticed the text had changed again. “Seriously? I’m disappointed. But fine. Do what you really want.” I froze. “What do you mean?”, I said out loud. I flipped the paper around to make the text change. “I am offering exactly what you wish for.” “What do you mean?”, I asked but I felt like I knew the answer. “Yes, you know the answer. Do it.” I closed the door and took a deep breath. “Good boy. Now look again”, the note said as it was reading my thoughts.
“What I really wish for…” I mumbled and carefully looked through the keyhole again. This time the room was different. It was dark, padded in black, shiny latex. My heart started racing. There was a chair. Padded in black leather. Straps everywhere. The arm rests started moving, pulling the arms into a T-position, then in a circle route up above the head. The foot rest split and demonstrated its capability to put its guest into a spread-eagle position. Then it transformed into a gyn chair. That thing was intimidating. It moved back and forth, turned from a rack into a rotating Saint Andrew Cross, and back into a dentist chair. I slowly got the intention the chair was alive and knew I was watching. Like it was bragging and daring me, inviting me to step through the door and take a seat. Suddenly all around the chair machinery appeared out of their hiding spots. Robotic arms with fingers and brushes. Some devices were mounted on the floor or were attached to the ceiling. Others were part of the chair, sneaked around from under and behind the paddings. All those metal arms and carbon tentacles waved and danced over the chair, clearly missing a body to dig into. It was mesmerizing just to look at it. And of course, waiting near the crotch area, there was the milker. It pumped and rotated, stroked and sucked, and finally released a set of rubber tendrils which looked eager to tease my groin and more.
I don’t know for how long I watched the spectacle. But suddenly the chair slowed down and returned to its default standby position. The tickle devices retreated into their hiding spots, hatches closed, all went silent. My heart was pounding like a steam train. Sweat ran down my forehead. Yes, this was what I always wished for. My dream came true. And all I needed to do was stepping through the door. I hesitated, of course. The note said: “Don’t peek twice if you like what you see.” I paused. I don’t know why but I was so confused I wasn’t sure if I had to peek twice now… My train of thoughts didn’t make sense, not even to me. Anyway, I ended up looking through the keyhole again. There was no chair anymore. Now there was a white room. Instead of an AI-robot chair there was a long, white bondage table. On the table there was a beautiful nurse, sitting and waiting. She was dressed in a tight revealing latex uniform. In her hand she was holding a feather. She smiled as she met my gaze and winked. I stumbled back. The note was right. I shouldn’t have peeked twice if I had liked the chair. “Yes, the room changes every time you peek. Step in or peek again.” Okay, I thought, one more peek.
Now there was a big round room. A sphere. All made out of glass like a winter garden. The sky was filled with stars, providing the room with dim light. Strange plants were growing everywhere. There were purple trees with long liana and fat fleshy leaves, reminding me of venus fly traps.
A large, spongy coral reef with millions of tendrils grew on the left. Some sort of jellyfish lived there in symbiosis, hidden in the holes. Now and then a few of them flew out of their hiding spot, floated around their home as if they were weightless and dashed back into the coral reef. It seemed like they played a game, some kind of tag mixed with hide and seek. I don’t know why, but to me they looked bored.
On the right there was a huge hive made out of flesh. It stretched and breathed, flexed relaxed and segregated clear fluids into a flat pond. It was populated by bugs and creatures which were as big as cats and bigger! There were tall spiders with thin legs covered in colorful fur and feathers. Some kind of stag beetle in shiny black armor and with four strong mandibles opened its slime dripping mouth and showed a dozen tongues as it yawned. There were long caterpillars with feathers and millipedes with three fingers on each leg. An army of disciplined ants patrolled the borders and slimy slugs wrestled each other with their immense feelers. There was a woodlouse lying on its back taking a sun bath. I somehow wanted to lie down in it as if it was a tingly sun lounger.
In the center there was a pool, filled with green slime. Big lazy bubbles popped now and then, showing the density of the goo. I felt like betting there was a big playful tentacle beast waiting for pray.
I guessed this was the science fiction scenario for a lost astronaut, exploring the wilderness of the universe. This was a zoo without fences, an alien conservatory. Calm and in harmony, waiting for a stupid human to disturb the peace.
“Just saying…”, the note wrote. “This is the hub. Not a cinema.” I moved from one leg to the other. Was I ready for some aliens destroying my sanity? Should I give these creatures some skin for licking and sucking? This room was so full of tendrils, could I take it? “Well, it’s your mind making up that stuff. Not me”, the note complained. “Yeah, but…” I hesitated. “But what?”, the note demanded. “I don’t know…” My hand was shaking as I moved the door knob. No, that was too much. The seconds ticked away. I was frozen.
“I guess you need a little push”, the note said, “How about that? This is your last choice. Take this room or the next.” What would the next room be, I wondered? I walked around, not sure if I should just go on this creepy alien tour or… or what? “If you go home without enduring some tickling I will never invite you back”, the note wrote threatening. I gulped. The fear was intense, but so was my longing. Last chance… All I ever dreamed of was behind that door. “I don’t think I a ready for this”, I whispered. “Your loss…” the note answered. “No… I mean yes… I mean… I’m not ready for that alien thing… I guess…” Oh my god. There were so many things in that garden. Really scary things. The next scenario. I will take the next scenario. I promise. “Then peek one last time”, the note agreed.
With shaking legs I kneeled down one more time. I peeked through the keyhole and looked stunned into the room on the other side. It was black. Pitch black. Nothing to see. “You promised”, the note said. But how was I able to see what I was getting into? There was no… no… oh… yeah… I understood. There was no warning this time. I would have to open the door into the unknown.
“Yep”, the note confirmed.
Yep. I had promised. I took a big breath and closed my eyes. This was what I wanted for so long. And I would never forgive me if I chickened out. “Am I in danger?” I asked out loud. “It’s your phantasy”, the note said. Right. My wildest dream. I pushed down the handle. The door opened with a loud creak. The light in the hub went off. All was dark. There was no sound. Only my footsteps echoed from the walls. The note in my hand was now written with delicate lines in luminescent ink. There was a sentence which made my blood freeze. “Take off your clothes.” The words faded. Then the paper crumbled through my shaking fingers. Carefully I sat down. The floor was soft and warm, with a nice touch like faux leather. I took off my shoes and put them on my right. I pulled off my shirt and tried to put it on the same spot. My shoes were gone. I searched a little bit. They were nowhere to find. Same for my shirt. It just had vanished into thin air as soon as I had dropped it. Yeah, that helplessness and obedience was kind of the thing I found so very erotic. I was so excited and afraid. Full of regret and anticipation, I shoved off my pants. My socks. My underwear. I was nude. Alone. Lost. Not ready. And hard. My hand grabbed my shaft, not sure if it should stroke or hide the erection.
“Finally,” a soft voice said. “Time for your punishment.”
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Session 1 - The Punishment (****/m)
“Finally,”, a soft voice said. “Time for your punishment.” I braced myself, tensed up and got ready for anything to happen. But nothing happened. There was only darkness and silence. I gulped. Again, I searched the floor for my clothes but all I could feel was the warm leather tiles. Nothing. On my knees I tried to fumble for the door I came through but even the wall behind me was gone. There wasn’t even an echo. Then, without any warning the room slowly lit up. And what I saw made my blood freeze. I had often fantasized about the perfect bondage furniture for trapping a ticklish body – my ticklish body, to be more specific. The question had been: which concept would provide the highest immobility while exposing as much skin as possible? The answer was now right in front of me: A kneeling chair with a Y-shape back rest made out of solid metal bars. Straps and pads were all in the right spots to hold everything in place. Two leg rests with thick straps were waiting for my shinbones, mounted on rails which enabled the device to spread my legs wide apart. The pads for my spine weren’t just supposed to prohibit my lower body to convulse. These pads were attached to pistons promising a devious stretching experience for my abdominal skin. The Y-shaped bars had thick leather cuffs for my wrists. They were dangling on iron chains attached to winches. To round this all up there were more straps for my upper and lower arms. Between the Y-Bars there was a head rest with another strap for my forehead. This thing promised everything but mercy.
Suddenly a dark female figure stepped out of the shadows. I startled and tried to step back, but instead I stumbled against a second one. My wrists were grabbed, left and right. And before I knew it I was surrounded by four black shiny mannequins. I lost balance and almost fell down. They caught me and pulled me up without effort. Their immense strength didn’t match their slender appearances. With ease they forced my arms behind my back as if I was a toy puppet. I had no choice but surrender. Their firm grip was inescapable. Their skin felt soft and their hands were warm. I couldn’t spot any eyes or breathing holes. If these were women in catsuits they would suffocate. No, these creatures were made out of rubber or something. Maybe robots covered in a silicone skin or living goo in shape of women. Maybe something in between? Maybe both. My heart was racing, I was afraid. But surprisingly deep down I felt… well… “in good hands” you could say. Yes. There was no doubt. Those creatures were actually no strangers to me. In the past I had fantasized a lot about all kinds of lers. Those dominant rubber mannequins were one of many friends I kept in my kinky mind palace. That palace was home to hundreds of “little helpers” for boring nights and a boner in my hand, with hundreds of floors and rooms where my fantasies became more colorful with every stroke and edge. The idea of such a mannequin had been born in my head long ago. That day I had been shopping for clothes. I had passed by a store window witnessing a saleswoman rearranging black shiny mannequins. It was such a fascinating random moment that I never would forget. Since that very day those mannequins had held a special place in my memories. They visited me sometimes when I needed an uncomplicated nice daydream while stroking my boner. I never wrote about them, I never drew a picture. They only lived in my head – until now. I was sure that somehow the note found this memory in my head. If I hadn’t guessed it before this was my proof. Some mind reading stuff was going on for sure. The kneeling chair, the creatures, everything felt familiar. One mannequin held the white note in her hands. The note said “Enjoy”. A thrilling fear overcame my brain. Adrenalin shot into my bloodstream and thrived it into my erection.
The mannequins started to inspect me. A single movement from one was instantly complemented by the others. They turned me around and grabbed my limbs, passed them on like a thing to hold on for just a moment. They touched my cheeks and pinched my nipples. They inspected me like a stuffed animal and their faceless heads tilted left and right as I squirmed around. Then I noticed a hand stroking softly over my stomach. As the index finger aimed for my belly button I lost it. I tried to break free. I pulled and flinched, not sure how to succeed or where to go. Like a wounded animal I tried to kick and push back. This little outburst didn’t last long. From behind a hand grabbed by jaw and another hand my neck. My fight-or-flight impulse turned into freeze mode immediately. I felt panic rising but the same time something deep inside my heart was relieved that my escape didn’t work. I wasn’t even sure if I actually wanted to flee if I had a choice. No. To be brutally honest, if I had broken free it would have come back to apologize and to beg to continue.
Yes, this helplessness was exactly what I had always silently craved for. She released my jaw and pulled me with both arms into an iron hug. I sighed. I didn’t dare to resist. Her breasts felt soft and warm on my shoulder blades. It caused a cozy shiver down my back. Then I felt the finger poke around my belly button. I tensed and squirmed just a little, not daring to evade the sensation this time. It drew a few circles until the finger wiggled its way into my navel. “Argh,” I groaned involuntarily. My breath got quicker. It was a strange sensation, it felt so weird and intrusive. These creatures demonstrated their power over me. They didn’t ask, gave no warning. They just held my body in place and touched me however they desired. As if I was their toy. A squirming puppet pet toy. And it was play time. Knowing that this hand was just right above my stone hard penis made my shaft pulsate.
With the finger still massaging my belly button they pushed me towards the kneeling chair. I had no chance to comply. They just grabbed my legs and carried me the last two steps. They forced me to kneel on the leather pads and while one of them held my feet in place another one attached the straps around my ankles. Two more straps around the calves made sure that I was unable to lift my knees even an inch. Then the mannequin hugging me from behind pulled me backwards and pushed my shoulder blades against the tiny leather back rest. A thin manacle cushioned with tiny silicone balloons clasped around my ribcage. A sharp metal “Click” shackled my upper body, followed by a fizz while the balloons slowly inflated. I tried to convulse into fetal position to escape the finger in my bellybutton, but I hit the second leather pad with my lower spine immediately. The pad hummed and the piston pushed my abdomen forward without much of a discussion. Slowly my belly was stretched more and more and the finger poked deeper and deeper into my navel. The more I sucked in my belly the more the piston pushed me forwards. My squirming was futile before and now I wasn’t even able to move. While my arms were pulled above my head I could feel my feet being placed in a carbon frame. Solid rings clamped securely around my toes and pulled them back with a ratchet noise. I couldn’t move my arches anymore. At the same time straps entangled my arms and held them firmly attached to the Y-frame. The strap around my forehead made sure that I wasn’t even able to shake my head anymore. The winches attached to the wrist cuffs came to life and took the last few inches of wiggle room from my arms.
All went silent. I was restrained. Fully restrained. Any motion denied. Every single bone in my body was locked in place. The mannequin in front of me stared at my face. She kept her finger in my navel as if it was supposed to stay there forever. Every time I breathed in I could feel it poking deeper. And every time I exhaled the tension relaxed. Two mannequins walked around me as they gazed at my helpless body. The fourth seemed to wait behind me for a signal. I could feel her hands hovering at my sides. The seconds ticked away and I got more and more anxious. Out of curiosity I confirmed my immobility. No chance, it was close to zero. Only my fingers were able to move freely. The rest of my body was frozen in time. The mannequin observed my attempts like a child would watch a goldfish. I sighed in defeat. There was nothing left I could do. I sunk into my restraints, relaxed my muscles well knowing that I should enjoy this rest. It didn’t take long. I took a breath or two. Then it begun.
The two mannequins walking around me positioned themselves to my sides, left and right. They kneeled down and started petting my calves while the mannequin behind me softly caressed my nipples. I could feel my skin tingle all over. Slowly the fingers drew their paths closer and closer to my armpits and heels. I already held my breath just out of anticipation. My soles felt hot. Goosebumps ran all over my arms and down my back. I wasn’t ready as the first touches hit the right spots. I jolted electrified and screamed in despair as the sudden attacks happened. They retrieved only to come back a moment later. First the attacks only lasted for a blink, they were over as soon as they started. But time after time the attacks lasted a bit longer. Soon I got what I had wished for. Ten fingers begun dancing over each foot, soft and evil featherlike sensations from toe to heel. I couldn’t do anything about it. I tried to wiggle and shake my foot to escape the systematic crawling. But my toes were shackled and my soles couldn’t move an inch. I had to take every single touch exactly as it came. My armpits met no different fate. First in circles, then up and down right into the center, relentlessly searching for an even better angle. The mannequin in front of me started caressing my midriff with her free hand. The finger in my bellybutton started wiggling again like a homeless worm to find the one tiny spot which made my whole abdomen jolt in some unholy mixture of painful tickles and pleasant uncomfortable massage. I tried to suck in my belly but it was in vain. The other fingers danced right below my solar plexus which made my midriff muscles contract and quiver. Soon my body struggled with the command from my brain to relax a bit – so I was able to take a deep breath. But the air in my lungs was pressed out as soon as it entered. A lifetime passed. The soft sensations teasing my skin drove off every single thought in my brain. All I could think about was how to make it to the next breath as I laughed silently from one second to the next. Sweat accumulated around my head strap and started to run over my ears and drip on my shoulders. The soft fingers just continued their game. Most time they just danced around the hot spots in a threatening and teasing manner. At some point they suddenly attacked right into it. Sometimes the fingers retreated instantly, sometimes they tickled for an eternity. For a while they took turns. First the feet, then the armpits. Back to the feet, then the hand on my stomach dug into my flesh. The more time went by the more often they attacked simultaneously and remained longer. I had no control. My muscles tried their best. They tensed and cramped, quivered and shivered. But they could do nothing against the kneeling chair, which made sure to display my skin like a canvas on a frame.
My whole body was tingling and cramping. The tickling sensation itself was more or less endurable. It was the anticipation that gave me a hard time. To get a breath in I had to mobilize all my willpower to relax some abdominal muscles, no matter what the black shiny hands were doing to my belly. I wasn’t able to predict an attack to sneak in a breath during a light teasing period. Even worse - sometimes I felt like the fingertips softly dancing over my belly were actually just waiting to capture the tender flesh off guard. At some point I was so exhausted and desperate for air that I would have done anything to make it stop. Just a few seconds. I felt my limit approaching, soon they were just a few touches away. I needed to breathe. I needed a break so desperately that I would have done literally anything. I tried to beg. I tried to communicate. But I got what I was here for. They drove me to my limits. And not only that. They were on a mission. My limits were just a milestone on the journey. They were ready to take me beyond. I knew it was coming. Panic and desperation flooded my thoughts, not sure if I should fear or welcome the possibility of passing out. My muscles drained the oxygen out of my blood and left my head in a dizzy state. The alarming sensations from my feet and torso slowly became more of a nuisance than a torture – at least compared to the suffocation I was threatened with. After all, didn’t I already admit to myself that the tickling was not that bad at all? I was holding back, yes. I didn’t dare to commit. I didn’t dare to laugh.
I could feel something snap in my brain. This must have been the moment crossing the line. The snapping was not a sound or a sensation, it was an insight into my own behavior. All my feelings and reactions were presented to me like a schematic or a map. And realizing the truth was mindboggling. This wasn’t my tickling limit. I could take so much more. The only reason I couldn’t breathe was a devastating fact I knew all along. I just instinctively refused to even admit that there was a simple solution. Since I actually feared ne text touch way more than enduring the tickling at the very moment the biggest enemy was my fighting instinct. I was able to breathe all along. I just held on some illusion of control to tense up and defend my mental vulnerability. This realization was the key. And the desperate need for air was my unstoppable motivation to open a door which was there all along. I just had been too close minded to even consider this option. Everything changed as soon as I surrendered my willpower. I gave up my dignity and surrendered into the sensations. I kind of chose the freedom of breathing over a defensive mindset. I chose to endure the stimulation I was given, and I chose to accept the intensity it was given to me.
With this decision came not only a change in my emotions, but a domino effect rolled over my mind. The flood gates opened just a bit. I started giggling. The sound of my voice startled me and I retreated back into silent laughing and suffocating. The embarrassment was shocking. I sounded like a silly, stupid child. No way I could do this. My lungs were screaming even louder for air, now that a solution was found. I had no choice. The embarrassment started to feel like a sweeter deal with each passing second. So, I dared to trade a few giggles for air and tensed back into silent laughter. One trade, then another, just a few now and then. This went on and on, a giggle here, a breath there. I tried to hide the obvious at first, tried to giggle not too loud – without much success. The dance on my soles made my voice go high and made me sound like a cute girly cheerleader. The tender pokes and cheeky pinches on my belly made me groan like an idiot. And stroking my armpits made me snicker like Donald Duck. If I hadn’t been so ashamed I would have laughed at me myself, the sounds were way too funny. Surprisingly the mannequins didn’t seem to care. They just went on and behaved as if they couldn’t hear anything. Or worse, maybe they didn’t care. Slowly I realized that even in this situation I wouldn’t allow myself to stand by my kink and live it out. And who was I kidding but myself? I couldn’t do anything about it anyways. It was a strange feeling. Like a hint of trust growing inside me, that my very own creatures would never hurt me anyway. They kept offering a gift and waited patiently for me to take it. The nasty tickling and teasing, not giving me any break, driving me into suffocation, was actually very sympathetic. I had asked for this. I was still asking for more. But without opening up to myself there was nothing more they could offer. The mannequin in front of me nodded. She didn’t seem insulted or impatient, but curious for how long I would remain in denial. Now I felt stupid for not acting like an idiot. Such a predicament, and such an easy solution. Yes. This was really the hardest part. I started trusting them not to judge me too harsh for my giggling. It was just really difficult to do so without having some kind of proof first.
Finally, I made my choice. I didn’t want to fight the urge any more. And I couldn’t. My stubbornness was a burden and got too heavy to carry. It was like a heavy weight was crushing me and I was now ready to let go. I gave in, took the risk to sink deeper into the experience – like stepping slowly into a swimming pool – but with surprisingly pleasant warm water. My fear faded. It was a relief giving up any illusion of control. I had begged for it from the beginning and I still did. Yes, I needed to enjoy the moment. No more worries what the next second would bring. No more worries what someone else would think about me. No more fear of being a disgusting freak. I guess this was the first time I experienced not only pure submission, but freedom to be myself. With deep breaths I let the fingertips dig and pinch, tease and play. This was their decision now. I offered them myself: my body, my trust, my feeling of security, and my honest reactions to everything they did. I took a deep breath and let go. I just laughed and laughed, roaring moans, shrill creaks, and so many idiotic giggles. With my new permission to be myself I started to live in two places at once. I hoped for a break but without the tickling to stop. On the one hand I was craving for more. On the other hand, I was horrified to meet my tickling limit. And on all other hands – which were playing me like an instrument - I knew they were holding back. This was no tickle torture. Not yet. Their body language and movements felt relaxed and playful, sometimes even bored. I was absolutely sure that this was nothing more than a little funny exploration and teasing. This was the rehearsal before the big show.
The mannequin in front of me tilted her head as if she was asking a question. She really expected me to admit it, to speak it out loud? Weren’t even the tiles in this room able to read my mind? I wondered if this was really necessary – she nodded amused. All right. I took a very deep breath and with a roaring laugh I shouted: “Please tickle me!”.
She shook her head. No. Not enough.
All right. “Please…” I managed to vocalize between giggles.
The mannequins suddenly stopped. No more tickling. Just the sound of my lungs gasping for air. All of them lined up in front of me, crossing their arms in expectation. The silence was awkward. Deep inside me I sensed that they demanded pure consent.
It felt so very difficult to ask for it. To admit my kink. But the real horror overcame me as I feared the risk of loosing this chance. The chance for a unique experience, maybe the only chance to live this fantasy.
“Honestly, I mean it”, I whispered skittishly. “I’m sure I can take more. Please. Take me to my limit. Please!” I gulped. “And further. All the way down. Please!”
Still silence.
It was so hard to say it out loud. I had to close my eyes. “Sorry for holding back. It was stupid.” I begged desperately, afraid of being released here and now. “Thank you. Thank you for doing this.” I tried pleading. “Please don’t stop now.” I didn’t know how to be more specific. “Please, DESTROY ME!”, I shouted in desperation.
For a second, I was afraid of the incoming storm I tried to summon. “I just might need a glass of water…”, I added quickly.
I opened my eyes. And in front of me was the mannequin from the center, holding a glass of water with a straw. “No tickling while drinking?” I asked carefully. She nodded. Greedily I tried to empty the glass but the flow didn’t run dry. I was sure it should have been empty three times by now. A “thank you” made the mannequin step back, the glass in her hand was still full. I didn’t care to question the rules in this fantasy world. Nice trick, I thought. Good enough for me.
“So?”, I asked worried. “I’m still here…”, I joked nervously.
The mannequin held up the note. “Ready for your punishment?”, it said.
I tried to nod. “Yes, please”, I gasped in relief.
The sound of steps approaching from behind made my back shiver – soft rubber feet on warm tiles coming closer and closer. I got ready for everything while the other mannequins still watched me with crossed arms. My head strap was removed. I shook my head and stretched my neck. Then I saw it. A red rubber hand snaked around my waist, all shiny with delicate fingers. And slowly, very slowly, it moved towards my penis which pumped in excitement, almost as if it tried to meet halfway. This didn’t feel like a punishment. I tried to look back but with my chest shackled to the frame I couldn’t spot anything. I looked back down, mesmerized by the hand putting just the tip of a finger on my glans. I moaned silently and the hand retreated. This became really frustrating. The tension, the anticipation was so intense, I was completely lost now. What the hell was going on? The red mannequin stepped around and presented herself in front of me. In her hands she held a wrapped gift. It was dark blue with a golden ribbon. With ceremonial passion she pulled the ribbon and ripped off the paper to reveal a brown box. I couldn’t peek inside as she removed the lid. The leg rests started humming and moving. My legs spread wider and wider and my penis twitched eagerly. Finally, she revealed the content of the box. In her hand was nothing more than the alarm clock from my bedroom. Confusion came and was quickly replaced by disappointment. The alarm clock showed 6:29. One minute until the alarm was about to go off. I shook my head slowly. “Please don’t…”, I begged. “Not like this.”
A black mannequin brought me the note. It said “See you soon?”
“Okay, sure…” I reconfirmed quickly. “Yes, anytime! Please don’t be mad at me!”
The alarm clock flickered to 6:30 and a loud buzzing sound ripped me out of my fantasy. I opened my eyes. I was in my bed. The sheets were soaked in sweat. My pillow was soaked in sweat. I was soaked in sweat. The alarm clock on my side table showed 6:30. It was not buzzing. It took me a minute in silence. It was weekend. Sunday. My alarm clock was turned off! Had I just woken up by the noise of a dream version of my alarm clock? And wasn’t this my week off? Damn it. What a frustrating way to start a day. I could have slept for another hour, two hours! I could have slept the whole day! Why did this dream have to end?!
I moaned. My cock was rock hard and dripping. ‘Not here’, I said to myself. I got up and hurried to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and got rid of my shirt and underwear. My penis felt so good in my hands. This wouldn’t take long, no doubt. Steam formed in the air and treated my lungs with humid air. “What a crazy dream”, I thought. “What an amazing dream…” And just as I was about to step under the hot water a message appeared on the fogged-up mirror. Clear letters on my mirror said: “Would you mind waiting until tonight?” I closed my eyes in disbelief and shook my head. When I looked back the message had changed, just like the words on the note from my dreams. “Good boys will be rewarded tonight.”
“Okay”, I whined with a shiver and let my penis go. I was so irritated. “This will be a hard day, I guess…”.
“Don’t worry”, my mirror said. “It will be a much harder night.”
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Session 3 - ????????
(maybe soon, maybe not)
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