WARNING: What you are about to read is as true a depiction of NONCONSENSUAL abject tickle torture as it is my literary skill to present. This was actually a great challenge for me personally to write. In the past this has not been my specialty and it really takes a lot to go to that special sociopathic place as a ler where you truly stop caring about the well being of the person you are destroying. The point where they are no longer a willing partner, but an unlucky victim to bear the full unyielding wrath of your merciless fingers. To all those seeking consensual teasing and light teasing be warned. Take Great care in reading this piece because you just might LIKE IT TOO MUCH.
This is the final chapter in my most literary work to date. It is a representation of an aspect of this fetish that was even foreign to me before I endeavored to put it to pen. To those who fear to enter… I still thank you for taking the time to take a look. For the rest of the sick ruthless FUCKS… I would like to cordially invite you… to my DYSFUNCTION!
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The AWAKENING (Parts I-III)
Amanda could only start to gently sob down into the pillow. The sea of dreaded emotions leaked from her teary eyes to stain casing of the soft material. She was so terrified. She had no idea what lay in store for her… “Master please?” She deduced that she was dealing with Greg’s most sadistic side. This was her last ditch effort. It had to work.
Greg bent down and lovingly comforted his wife. He wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her more lovingly on the neck and earlobes than he ever had in her entire life. He made the loving “shhhhhhhhhh” sound to quiet her emotions. He rubbed the tension from her shoulders and held her so tightly. He lightly brought his lips to her ear… “There there honey. It’s okay now… it’s okay… it’s almost over…”
“Oh God thank you Greg… I was so…” Her temporary glimmer of hope was cut far to short by the realization of Greg’s intentions.
“Don’t worry… I promise you… It will be much worse than what you are thinking of…. I wouldn’t want to disappoint my naughty little FUCKING tease of a slave girl now would I? What kind of a monster do you think I am? Hahahahahahahahahahahahahah” The Taskmaster had just achieved perfection. He had only been free for a few minutes and he already mimicked Greg’s mannerisms to perfection. He was now free to put his servant’s emotions on his personal yo yo for his enjoyment and his alone… not even hers.
Amanda was lost. She felt as if she was hanging over a pit and the final string had just been cut. The Taskmaster’s demented laughter haunted her to no end. She did everything within her power to get free. She knew it would fail but she had to try. She started kicking wildly, screaming at the top of her lungs and flailing her arms like a mad woman. This was all greeted by not only futility of her actions, but the fact that they were only arousing The Taskmaster even more.
“I hate you I fucking hate you, I swear to god I fucking hate you… let me go… I said fucking let me go… god damn it let me go please let me go…” Amanda was sobbing freely now. The fear had consumed her entirely. There was nothing left but the fear and a slight ray of hope. The hope was that somewhere deep inside this thing on top of her that her husband still existed. The sad truth was that in reality this was her husband. He was just finally brave enough to take off his mask…
“That’s it honey… let it all go… you have been holding this back from me for our entire marriage… let it all go… what you don’t let me have.. I promise I am going to take it from you… SLOWLY…” The Taskmaster took his slave girl over his shoulder kicking and screaming.
The Taskmaster was so happy that Amanda had finally broken through to her real feelings. He felt so proud of himself. She banged her fists into his back. She cursed him. She called him names. She cried onto the back of his shirt. She screamed at the top of her lungs. It was all music to the Taskmaster’s ears. Finally she was letting go. He had helped her stop hiding. Maybe she would even thank him later… if she could speak…!
The Taskmaster threw the slave girl down onto the bed. Amanda was still screaming and cursing and begging for mercy. It was so cute. He always loved this part of her but today it was so genuine. It was like the first smell of flowers in the spring, or the first kiss of air off the morning sea. Her thrashing was perfect. She was really trying to get away from him. She was desperately trying to keep her limbs from being pinned down. Her gyrations were like a sweet ballet of desperation. Next time he would definitely have to tape record this. She sees the leather straps tied to the four posts of the bed. She looks so scared. If she only knew… He pressed himself across her mid section that was still bare from their little GAME. His slave was so gullible.
He inched the pants down her kicking legs. Didn’t she realize she was helping him? Silly girl! Before even The Taskmaster knew it her pants were off. He took in the sight of her bare legs kicking wildly. It made his heart melt. She wasn’t holding back any of her reactions. She was so unselfish (or maybe just helpless).
He could see her freshly pedicured feet. The things he was going to do to them. She had been teasing him with them all day and now it was his turn to torture them. He pinned her arms over her head and started inching her shirt up her torso. She was so helpless there he had to increase her discomfort. Every inch of flesh that was bared was met with a server tickling. He massaged her hips wickedly. The vicious gyrations of her body fighting the unbearable sensations were like a full body massage from a spa to The Taskmaster. He could tell form the look in her eyes that she couldn’t take it. That was good. Reactions are always purest beyond a person’s limits he thought to himself.
“Ohhhhhhhh god not there ahahhaahahahahahahhahha please Greg don’t hahahahahahahahahah tickle me ahahahahahahahahahhaha I can’t take it ahhaahhahaha I can’t fucking take it hahahahahahahahaha!” Her desperation was beginning to get to him. The throbbing between his legs was becoming more and more present as her helplessness ran through him. He was the true sadist. The more his victim suffered the more sexually aroused he became.
Amanda could tell that he was drunk with lust. She could see the way that he was looking at her. It was like he was in a trance. He heard what she was saying but she didn’t think he was listening. He was too transfixed on making sure that every nerve in her entire body was tormented past her breaking point. When he got to her hollows it was all over. Her shirt was over her head and her nipples were unfortunately still erect and on display. She hated the fact that he could see her arousal. She had never been uncomfortable being naked in front of Greg before, but tonight was different. She wanted to be fully clothed and as far away from him as possible. The tension between what she wanted and what was happening manifested itself in the form of absolute terror and it was written all across her face.
The Taskmaster threw Amanda’s shirt aside. Now she lay naked before him. He held her arms above her head and he just sat there admiring his prize. She couldn’t bear to look at him. He was The Taskmaster. Before him, she rightly trembled. Her refusal to look him in the eye validated his awesome power.
He increased her discomfort exponentially when he licked from the side of her breasts all the way up to her cheek. Amanda had loved the touch of his tongue on her bare skin so much, but now it just felt disgusting. She wanted more than anything to break free and get away but there was no where to go and no where to save her. The Taskmaster has his precious morsel right where he wants her. There is nothing that anyone can do to stop him now.
“Don’t worry slave... I haven’t forgotten how much you love to be tied spread eagle… I thought that for our first real night together I would start with your favorite… you see how generous I am… hahahahahaha!” The Taskmaster knew that was a phobia of hers. Making her deal with her worst fears is what he lives for. He wants to see that panic grip every fiber of her being and not be able to go anywhere.
He takes both of her arms over to the top right hand corner of the bed forcefully. He is so strong and she is so tiny. He could literally tie her against her will with one hand behind his back. This is what Amanda used to love so much about Greg. Now it was the source of her deepest hatred. He leaned his entire body weight on every part of Amanda, but her left arm that he pinned next to the post of the bed. He just hummed to himself while she screamed. He took his time tying a very tight knot with the leather strap. He didn’t want his poor little slave girl getting loose and spoiling his fun.
“Don’t tie me up like this Greg…. Please don’t do it…. Please you know what it will do to me… you’re fucking scaring me… stop it right now… you’re fucking scaring me… I mean it… this isn’t a fucking joke Greg… Stop it right now… I can’t take this… I promise I’ll do anything… please just stop okay… stop…!” She was being honest. She was broken down to her most basic feelings. The Taskmaster loved to hear her desperate requests. He wasn’t listening though. Not tonight. He had plans for this one.
“Silly little slave girl… I have already shown you what it feels like to know that I inspire such great fear in you!” Just then Amanda became even more aware of the growing inside Greg’s pants. Why did she have to be such a tease? What got into her today? She had never felt like that or like this before in her life. What was it? Deep down Amanda wished that this whole day would just go away.
After The Taskmaster secured all of Amanda’s limbs to the bed, he stepped off to watch her struggle desperately. She was tied perfectly spread eagle to the four corners of their bed. Every muscle was stretched out as tight as possible. She could not move an inch. She grabbed a hold of the leather straps and pulled for all she was worth. The Taskmaster just chuckled to himself. She was going to tire herself out way too fast like that. He didn’t say anything. This was going to be a night of lessons and he figured that he could just add that one to the list. He stripped off his shirt pants and underwear. He wanted to feel the cool air of the room kiss every inch of his skin while he consummated his utter dominance with his helpless bride. She looked so beautiful and so defenseless. As he was undressing the soundtrack of her unbridled emotions was delicious. It hade his manhood throb with excitement.
“Why are you doing this to me Greg…? I am sorry… I swear to God I’m sorry… Just tell me what I did… whatever it is I promise that I am sorry… I will never do it again… please I am sorry… please just let me go… Just FUCKING LET ME GOOO PLEASE…” Amanda’s demented pleas descended into hysterical screaming rather quickly. It made the demon before her pulse with excitement. He crawled onto the bed next to her wearing his mock Greg facade…
“Don’t worry sweetie… I know how tough this is for you… I understand…” He kissed her lightly on the forehead…
“Does that mean that you are going to let me go baby?” Amanda looked up at him with all the hope in the world.
“No… it just means that I am not going to make you watch me destroy every nerve in your body… SWEEETHEART hahahahahahaha!” Amanda swore that The Taskmaster’s demented laughter was the worst part. He waited for just this moment to put the blindfold over her eyes. Now she couldn’t even see the horrible things that he was planning to do to her. The uncertainty only added to the anticipation. The blindfold was only on for a few second before it was lightly dampened with the first of what would prove to be many tears of fear, anxiety, despair, and…
Why now? That was the biggest question in Amanda’s mind as The Taskmaster let his fingertips caress her torso and build the anticipation. Her body reacted with gooseflesh all over her body. The strange touch was worse than it had ever been. Why did he have to take her like this now? She was already in the throes of deep arousal. Her clit was still stiff and moist, her luscious nipples were standing at attention, and her nerves were at full alert.
This would be the time when Amanda would be the most ticklish and it terrified her more than anything. Just the thought of Greg’s hands tickling her under arms or her ribcage sent chills of fear down her spine. Amanda gritted her teeth. She knew what was coming. She also knew that the man on top of her was a maniac. He was not going to stop. She knew that her only hope was that in his lust he would take her and cease with his tickle torture. To hope for such a gruesome scenario might not really be hope at all…
She could not see him but she could feel him straddle her torso. This was it. She knew that she would not be able to appeal to his ideas of mercy (if he had any). She also knew that it would not prevent her from crying out in ticklish agony and begging in her futility with every molecule of air that she was able to force into her lungs between bouts of hysterical laughter forced by demonic tickling.
The Taskmaster was hushed. He was savoring the moment of the ticklish beauty beneath him. She looked so perfectly spread and open. He could do anything that he wanted to her perfect body and he planned to FULLY indulge himself. He took the time to notice how her pert breasts rose and fell as her lungs filled and emptied. He noticed how her hair was spread under her, framing her beautiful face like the goddess he knew she was. He took the time to realize how shallow her breathing was as a lump of pure dread must be caught in her throat. She looked so inviting. There was just one thing missing.
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahaha Ohhhhhhhhhhh goddddddddddddd ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahaha” Her screams of laughter and desperate thrashing were the final touch to his quivering masterpiece. The Taskmaster dug his fingers into the very centers of her twitching hollows. He knew that this was one of her worst spots. He just looked down on her going out of her mind and laughed to himself. He was so sadistic. He felt the throbbing between his legs increase with every shred of laughter that he was forcing from his blushing bride.
“Tell me I am not allowed to tickle you today slave girl… Tell your master what he is and is not allowed to do…” He was going to make her suffer for every second that he suffered and then some.
“Hhahahahahahahahahahahhahaha I’m sorry Ohhhhhh god I’m Sorrrrrrry ahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” She would have said anything to get him to stop his evil tickling.
“Not as sorry as you are going to be Pet… I am going to make you suffer even more than I suffered… this is what happens to naughty little slaves who tease their master…!” With that the tickling paused.
Amanda breathed in a sigh of relief at her respite. She could feel the burn of The Taskmaster’s evil leer and the tips of his fingertips teasing her forearms. The sensation was not enough to tickle but just enough to be uncomfortable…
“How do you like to be teased pet… Is it fun…?” The Taskmaster coyly toyed with his *ticklish* prey.
“You said that you liked it… I’m sorry I will never do it again… I swear I swear I swear…!” Amanda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She knew that she was pushing Greg to something she didn’t know it was this.
“You can’t help it… it’s who you are pet… It’s my fault really… I left your DISCIPLINE in the hands of another… That will never happen again… That I can promise you…!” The tone of The Taskmaster’s comments frightened poor Amanda to no end. Who was this ‘another’?
“But bwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha stop stop stop!” Amanda was done for. Mid sentence The Taskmaster had darted his hands back to her waiting hollows and dug in for another tickle attack. There was no playing around in the way that his fingers slivered over her sensitive hollows. His intention was to extract every last bit of ticklish electricity that the spot could produce. He wanted to make his poor little girl scream tonight, and scream she would. There was nothing that could stop him. That message just kept pinging through Amanda’s mind. The Taskmaster only grinned evilly and laughed at her horrific plight. He loved the fact that he was causing such terrible reactions from his poor desperate slave girl. He wanted to make her scream and beg for mercy the entire night until she passed out from exhaustion. He wanted all of her. He didn’t want her to be able to hold back any of her sweet suffering from him any longer.
Begging was a constant for Amanda. There was nothing she could do but beg in futility. She would curse him, she would curse herself, and she would plead with him to stop and nothing. He was as cold as ice. If possible, his frigid stoic demeanor added to her desperate panic. Her underarms were unbearably ticklish and he knew that. He was using her worst fears against her to break her into a quivering giggling mass. She feared that before it was over she would go quite mad. Hopefully, she would not be driven as far as her demented husband that was taking such delight in viciously tormenting her.
The tickling felt so different. There was nothing flirtatious about it. Every touch of her skin was exploited for maximum effectiveness. There was little teasing. Any subtle caress was just to wake up the delicate nerve endings that were to be consumed in ticklish agony next. The only breaks that Amanda received were to replenish the air in her lungs so that she would not loose the ability to laugh, beg, and scream at the top of her straining lungs.
Amanda adopted the idea to process every move that this new Greg was making through a very sadistic prism. Everything he did was designed to make her suffer and take control away from her. She hated every fiber of his being for taking so much pleasure in her utter suffering. Part of her missed the old Greg that was gentle in her fantasy. The other part of her hated him as well because he gave genesis to the sinister torture demon before her now. When old Greg used to tickle her, she at least felt like they were enjoying something together, no matter how bad it got. Right now her desperate feeling of isolation was driving her completely mad.
The waves of shame were unbearable. She had been taken in a weakened state. She was abducted like this while she was already aroused almost to the point of climax. She hated herself for not being able to silence these fires deep down within her. She did not experience the euphoria associated with arousal but she could tell that her womanhood was still quite moist and that her nipples were still very rigid. She hated her body for betraying her in this time of need. It was not responding to her conscious pleas for it to quite its subtle burning. It had been programmed to be aroused by tickling and that was only making it worse. It is hard to fully hate something when the body you inhabit is sexually excited by it. The duality of her situation plagued Amanda to no end.
This is the battle that The Taskmaster was really waging. He knew that he could make her afraid, he knew that he could make her scream, the challenge was to make her HIS. He had accomplished the task of slaying her owner, but could he direct those unconscious fires to himself and enslave her to him for all her life? That is the question he would take great joy in answering.
When the taskmaster tired of the underarm tickling, he let his hands skitter all over Amanda’s ticklish torso. He wanted his slave girl to be as absolutely uncomfortable as inhumanly possible. He wanted to see every muscle in her tight body straining against his diabolical bondage that was given birth in Amanda’s deepest nightmares. There was nothing she could do to protect herself from the maliciously ticklish attack. All that his slave could do was suffer through The Taskmaster’s cruelest treatment.
Amanda’s screaming laughter made her ribcage protrude much to her master’s amusement. She was making it so easy to torment her with her uncontrollable reactions. The actions both inspired his sadistic lust and made it easier for wicked fingers to find deliciously sensitive spots to tease and torment. Moving from one spot to another on her torso was always rewarded with a new sudden wonderful burst of hilarity. The Taskmaster let each note of her musical laughter hit home in his heart and between his strong thighs as he played his instrument with a musician’s precision. Not one spot on her torso went un-touched. There was not one ticklish hot zone that went unexploited.
The Taskmaster paused his merciless tickling for a session in sheer humiliation. “Tell me that I am not allowed to tie you up today pet… Tell me that you can’t take it…”
“Please Greg… I am sorry… I didn’t mean to tease you so bad… oh god please stop honey… please master I can’t take this tickling… I am so scared… please… let me go... I can’t stand to be tied like this…. Please don’t tickle me anymore…!” Amanda was far past her wits end.
“I make the rules… or have you forgotten…!” With that The Taskmaster brushed two makeup brushes over the exposed breasts rising and falling before him. His brushing was light and cruel. He wanted to expose his little slave girl as the naughty little tickle-slut that she really was deep down.
Amanda took a sharp breath and tried to hold it for as long as possible. It tickled like crazy, but being tickled on her excited breasts in the midst of her torture was far too conflicting. Her emotions negated the natural response, and the sensation was different and somehow amplified. Usually, when Amanda’s breasts are tickled this way it is nearly orgasmic (actually volcanic on occasion). Today the feeling was still arousing but it also had a much sharper ticklish edge to it. She knew that she would giggle and laugh. That was not the point. She could not give her demented tormentor the satisfaction of hearing her moan. She hated herself. How could her body enjoy itself when she was in the midst of such turmoil? She held her breath for as long as she could.
“Awwwwwww, I think somebody likes it… Is my ticklish little slave girl a naughty little tickle slut? … Come on pet... You can tell me!” The Taskmaster had moved to circling her puffy areolas. This was maddening. No matter how afraid Amanda was, she could not stop the simple physics of her body. In response to the cruel touch, her nipples pulsd and she was embarrassed. She felt the waves of shame crashing over her body. The strangest part is that the waves were landing on the beach of her swollen clit. She hated the fact that her body reacted this way to being tickled ruthlessly. The thought of this evil man forcing pleasure from her was terrible. She began to sob into her blindfold as the weight of her plight came crashing through her temples. She was utterly helpless to top him.
“I don’t think that you are being honest with me pet… I can see you poking up at me… tell me how much of a little tickle slut you are…!” With that The Taskmaster lightly trailed the make up brushes over her aching nipples. Amanda lost it. She couldn’t hold her breath any longer. She let out a deep moan followed by her familiar stream of desperate giggles.
“MMMMMMMMMMMMM hahahahahahaahahahahaha stop Greg… Stop hmmmmmmm ahahahahahahaahahaha not like this please… I can’t take it…. Not like this hmmmmmmm hahahahahahaha” The shame of her body’s arousal in her greatest despair was too much to handle.
Amanda was swimming in sensation that she hated. She was tied against her will. She was stretched out in a position that she had forbidden her husband to tie her in and he was forcing her to endure pleasure. This was cruel. Amanda felt so alone. She was so helpless. She was being called a tickle slut and truth be told how could she refute it.
Even now with fear and panic coursing through her veins the first reaction to being tickled on her breasts is to moan audibly and her nipples stand at attention. She felt as though she was two feet tall. She hated Greg for making her feel this way. She never thought that someone as sweet as him would do such a terrible thing to her. She trusted him more than anyone in the world. Even with the tickling sensations, the torture of her nipples, and the fear of being tied spread eagle on the bed; nothing compared to the death of that trust.
“Okay… I guess that the proverbial cat has got your tongue… I guess that my little slave girl isn’t ready to admit that she is just a little tickle slut yet… no matter… Gosh… Try and give a girl a break…” The Taskmaster resumes his mindless torment of her upper body again. He relishes in the renewed conflict that washed across her face. He knew that part of her wished she had just admitted to him what tickling does to her. She had been so open and so honest with his mask but she was hiding from him. The jealousy inside him knew no bounds and he was determined to make her sorry for being so attached to his disguise.
“Tell me that I can’t tickle your feet today pet… tell me that I am not ALLOWED…” The look of pure gratification in his omnipotence over his Wife was plastered all over The Taskmaster’s face. His Wife’s hair was also plastered all over her face from the violent shaking of her head back and forth in a futile attempt to deal with the ticklish sensations that wee shooting through her entire body.
Amanda was screaming at the top of her lungs. She hated being reminded of her behavior earlier. She couldn’t take being punished in this way. It was too much. This was her worst fear being brought screaming into the front of her brain at 100 mph with no warning. The terror was pulsing even in her fingertips as she just struggled and struggled against her tight stringent bondage. She couldn’t even use her hazel eyes to plead with Greg. Usually that would at least buy her a break. Through her blindfold she could just take in the salty air of her own tears and resign herself to the malicious feelings coursing through every fiber of her being with every beat of Greg’s fingertips against her ribcage. No matter how much she begged, not matter how much she pleaded, the tickling did not stop. Her lungs ached. Her mouth was becoming sore from being so wide open for so long. Unfortunately for our heroine, these familiar sensations while causing her an emotional breakdown were about to cause her smoldering womanhood a volcanic meltdown…
The Taskmaster paused the tickling to crawl beside his Wife on the bed. He could here her quiet whimpering and it thrilled every part of him. He licked her cheek to rudely announce his presence next to her and all she could do was cringe in disdain. She didn’t want any part of him touching her right now.
Amanda missed her husband dearly. She feared this new demonic torturous apparition with fire of a thousand suns. As she sobbed lightly behind her blindfold, her only hope in the world was that Greg would find her and rescue her. She would have been crushed to know that the monsters skin dies once it is shed… She was in no condition to handle such a tragedy right now. The Taskmaster thought it best to save that tidbit for later.
“Tell me that I can’t nibble your feet pet… tell me that you can’t take it… tell me to wait until the morning…!” Greg kept licking her cheek. He loved the way she recoiled so desperately. She was clinching the leather straps with her fists so tight. She hated every inch of his rough tongue as it caressed her cheek…
“Greg… I promise… I will never torture you like that again… I am so sorry…. I will let you do whatever you want to me whenever you want to me from now on… please just let me go…!” Her words were heartfelt. She was sorry. She was so sorry. She even felt bad for the things that she did to the imaginary Greg in her fantasy. She regretted abusing his genuine affections. She was sorry that he was gone and that this version of him had taken her hostage… She wished more than anything that he would come back if even for a second…
“Anything I want?”
“Yesss yesss oh god yesss Greg… I will be your little slave girl I promise.” Greg brushed her sweaty hair and he kissed her deeply. All the emotion that she was feeling was transferred to him. Amanda felt every nerve in her body lift in excitement. It was the man she loved. He had come back to save her. She was so happy. The tears of joy streamed down her face. The first actual feelings of euphoria leaked into her brain from her burning desire between her thighs…
“You know what I want you to do for me more than anything sweet heart…?” Greg rubbed himself into Amanda’s waiting thigh as a signal of his intentions.
“Anything dear… anything that you ask…!” Amanda was so happy at this very moment she couldn’t contain her enraptured smile….
“I want to watch you suffer sweetheart. That is what I want more than anything in the world… I want to watch you scared out of your fucking mind and suffering for your master… you said anything… you wouldn’t lie to me would you sweetie?” The kiss on Amanda’s forehead burned like his lips were poisoned with acid. The Taskmaster wished that he could see the look in her eyes as any hope of her rescuers return was painfully stripped from her cerebrum. The only reason he didn’t take off the blindfold to see the life drain from her eyes is because he knew that not being able to see him was a terrible strain on his slave girl’s sanity… After all, business before pleasure… hahahaha.
Amanda could do nothing but just start crying openly. She had no hope. She was naked, emotionally naked and this evil creature before her could do anything to her and maker her feel anything that he wanted. She hated him for how much he could reminded her of her lost love.
“Awwwwwwww, you look sad honey…” The Taskmaster lightly trailed the backs of two knobby hair brushes down her open thighs to her quivering feet… “Don’t you worry…! Master has ways of cheering you up…” As his evil words hit home, the Taskmaster’s demonic grin just grew wider and wider.
Before Amanda could respond to the news that her feet were most certainly doomed, The Taskmaster just started raking the soles of her feet up and down with the balls of the hairbrushes. Amanda’s feet began wiggling, squirming, and writhing at a frantic pace. Like the true master he was, The Taskmaster never lost touch with her quivering soles. They were still buttery soft from the sand, the pumice, and the bliss socks. There was no way that she could take having them scrubbed like this. It was maddening.
Like all other sensations, the ticklish sensations on the base of Amanda’s feet were slightly altered by her genuine desperation. It had a fiery quality that threatened to consume all of her. The Taskmaster would stop and start his cruel raking spontaneously. Amanda never knew when he was going to tickle her or when he was going to stop. This was in part to drive her insane, and also to keep her from the vast ocean of silent laughter. The Taskmaster needed no reassurance that she was completely his to toy with. He knew that he could push her there any time. Right now he just wanted to let the throbbing between his legs be massaged by his pet’s desperate laughter and her never ending futile screams for a mercy that would never come.
“From now on these are my feet slave… I can do with them whatever I wish… they do not belong to you anymore they belong to me… do you understand…?”
“Yes yes oh God yesssssss ahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahah please stop hahahahahahah aha please *pant pant* ahhahahahahahhaha stop…” Amanda was desperate. The tickling was maddening. She couldn’t even make out familiarity with her plight. She knew that it *tickled* but these wild sensations she was feeling were all together new to her. For some reason the only centers on her body that were processing with any familiarity were her aching nipples and her swelling clitoris. Even then she felt strangely detached from her arousal… It was almost as if it was someone else’s…
As usual her pleas for mercy went unanswered. Her plight continued for what felt like years. The balls of the hairbrushes on the soles of her feet were truly torture. She hated every second of it. The blindfold was now soaked with her salty desperation from her server plight. After 20 minutes of sustained torment, The Taskmaster finally relented to let his pet breathe…
Amanda could hear him get up and leave the room. His absence let her imagination run wild. She wondered what evils he had in store for her now. He was probably going to get a feather duster, an electric toothbrush, or worse. Greg was not big on extravagant tools but when he got really mad at her he would make exceptions. Not knowing what would be coming was the most terrible part. Her mind filled with all kinds of sick ideas. She was terrified of what he was going to do when he got back.
What happened next was the key to Amanda’s downfall. She might have survived her encounter in one piece had she not fallen victim to this. How could she be so blind…?
She heard Greg come back into the room. She held her breath. Part of her foolishly hoped that he would forget she was there. She heard him walking around the room. She heard him pick something up and scoot it beside her head. She assumed it to be a chair. She heard him sit down and something opened. She hated that sound. It might be pipe cleaners, it might be a toothbrush of some kind, and it could be anything. Whatever it was she was going to have to sit there and endure it. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“I have something for you pet… I promise that you will find it quite DELICIOUS…” Amanda hated the way he said that word. It set her mind ablaze with even new levels of horror and dread. Sadists usually have a way of making very ironic use of adjectives.
Amanda opened her mouth to protest and The Taskmaster acted quickly seizing the opportunity. What Amanda felt completely destroyed any sense of self that was remaining. She had never felt anything in the world sweeter than the strawberry yogurt that was now on her tongue. The emotions that were swirling in her head before were bombarded with even more erratic messages of confusion. Kindness… How?
Greg fed his beautiful wife slowly. He knew that she was in a very excited state. He didn’t want her to do herself any damage. He loved her… he would never hurt her. When she finished her yogurt he slowly poured water into her parched mouth. Amanda didn’t know how to react. Such cruelty accentuated by kindness. How?
Greg lovingly kissed her on her neck and his lips found hers. Amanda was so hungered for his comforting touch that she probed his mouth with her tongue like she never had before. The remnants of her desert made the kiss all the sweeter for Greg. He let his hands run through her hair and massage her scalp. Amanda strained in her bondage not to get away from him but to wrap her arms around him. In this one moment she could pretend that all was not lost… In this BRIEF moment!
“MMMMM I thought that I had lost you for a second…” Amanda was lost in a sea of emotions. Just the act of feeding her and letting her have water was beyond the projected capacity that she had for her captor.
“You’ll never loose me sweet heart. I have always been by your side… I will always be there… and now I am stronger… I don’t have to hide anymore…” The Taskmaster’s words hit home with Amanda. She was left with him. The imaginary man was gone.
“I’m so sorry master… I was so bad today… please… I am so sorry… just let me go please…!” Part of Amanda was resigned to her fate. Part of her was still lost in that last kiss. She knew that there would be no mercy. She was at the hands of her Taskmaster and he was going to teach her a thorough lesson in humility.
“You’re right you were bad today… Tell me again that I am not allowed to nibble your toes…!” The Taskmaster got up and walked deliberately to the foot of the bed.
“You can always nibble and suckle my, I mean your toes master. They are for you, they are all for you… I do everything to keep them soft all for you… please don’t torture them?” Amanda was desperate. The fleeting positive energy from The Taskmaster’s lone act of kindness was rapidly leaving her mind as he brought his warm lips to her toes on her right foot.
“I’m glad you see it that way pet… I am just going to remind you of that a little…” As she heard the sinister tone of The Taskmaster’s remarks, Amanda’s fears returned to her full force. This Greg could not be distracted no matter how much she begged or pleaded. He stopped and started only because he wanted to. The thought of his merciless teeth on her tied feet made her cringe inside. She only hoped that he would tire of the tickling after a while and focused on tending to his mounting arousal… could this really be hope?
The Taskmaster started gently nibbling on the toes of his slave girl. He wanted her to think about the gentle and then maddening teasing that she had put him through all day long. He wanted the anticipation to build sweetly before he rewarded himself with her mirthful screams of desperation again. The Taskmaster massaged her left foot so sweetly that it almost took her mind of the impending doom of her poor toes on her right foot… almost. There was nothing that could prepare her for the ever increasing pressure from her master’s evil teeth. This evil creature had all of Greg’s knowledge of her body but absolutely none of his genuine loving compassion. She felt so guilty for what she had done to her Husband. He protected her from this monster so diligently, and she only rewarded him with her cruelty. She deserved to be punished, she didn’t question that. But who deserved this?
The Taskmaster took in her gentle giggles as yet another symbol of is unlimited power. He decided when she laughed, begged, screamed, thrashed, or anything else that he wished to make her do. He did it all just to see the panic of loosing all self control coursing through her veins replacing the icy cold blood that teased him so mercilessly earlier.
When he felt that she was relaxed with the gentle nibbling, The Taskmaster went in for the kill. He began grazing his teeth over the pads of her toes as his left hand held her squirming foot in place while it took its well earned punishment. There was nothing that Amanda could do but scream at the top of her lungs. The Taskmaster knew exactly what his teeth would do to her *ticklish* little pampered pink toes. He wanted her to suffer for having such delicious digits that dance seductively through his dreams so frequently. He wanted to punish her for always teasing him with such sexy shoes and putting her feet on open display. Now he was in control of HIS feet. They are his and he is going to make her damn well understand that.
His right hand was not lost on the quivering sole of his wife’s left foot. It would not do to leave a single inch of his pet untouched on this their first voyage together all alone. She had to be thoroughly convinced of his unbridled ruthlessness. He had to admit that he thought he was doing a good job so far. He made sure that the foot he was not suckling still writhed madly in ultra-ticklish abandon.
“Ohhhhhh please master please hahahahahahahahahahahahahasha stop tickling your feet, ahahahahahahahahahahaha please stop nibbling your toes ahaheheheahehehehehe!” To be honest, The Taskmaster didn’t know if this was genuine progress or just a physical manifestation of Amanda’s desperation. He postulated that it was probably a strange combination of both. At least on a subconscious level she was beginning to understand that she was his and his alone. There would be no cowardly knight in shinning armor to silence his sadistic urges tonight. She was going to lie before him and take all the punishment that she richly deserved for abusing his affections so coldly.
The Taskmaster did feel as though he had an obligation to honor part of her request. He stopped nibbling her toes. After all, he didn’t want to deny the rest of her supple buttery ticklish feet the cruelty of his evil mouths affection. He bent her toes back with his strong left hand and hungrily devoured the entirety of her pink quivering sole. His rough tongue was the perfect ambassador for his ravaging teeth. He paid special attention to her wrinkled arch and slim instep. Her most sensitive areas received the most of her master’s affections because they so diligently produced the panicked hysteria that he craved so deeply.
Amanda’s pleas for the demented foot nibbling to end would go tragically unanswered. She regretted that she let Greg’s silent pleas to be able to fully devour her feet had gone unanswered. Maybe she would not be where she is now, or maybe that was just inevitable?
The Taskmaster was very even handed in his justice. He made sure that both of Amanda’s tender soles were thoroughly loved, suckled and of course nibbled before he was finished. His poor wife was a shell of his former self and he loved it. She had to learn the strict penalties for tormenting him in the least degree. All of her would be available to him at all times. This was a painful lesson to teach, but somehow The Taskmaster thought that he would get over his emotional turmoil…
Finally, after close to an hour of her master’s demonic indulgence Amanda’s poor feet were finally given a rest. Her chest heaved up and down trying as she might to suck in much needed air. She didn’t even really need to be bound at this point. Her resolve had been taken from her and the muscles in her body would be useless against a girl of her own size; let alone, the massive tormentor that stood before her. Amanda’s shame was multiplied when she felt the wetness streaming down her thighs.
Amanda was lost in her own world of emotional sorrow detached from everything her body was feeling except for the dreaded tickling that would haunt her nightmarish dreams for the rest of her very life. She didn’t even notice the urgency that was brewing between her legs. Her clit was almost painfully throbbing to no end and she couldn’t understand why. She had few if any emotional feelings of arousal. It was undeniable that her body was responding to the torment in a very inverse and perverse fashion but it felt strangely as though it was not her body…
“Awww, it looks like my little tickle slut is enjoying our first date…” Amanda was a good housewife and mother of two children. How could he call her such a thing? She hated the fact that her thighs offered empirical evidence in the affirmative. The way he said ‘first’ made her even more unsettled than being called a ‘tickle slut’. The way he talked of firsts made her think for a moment that beyond his obvious anger over the days events that maybe her husband really had gone crazy, or maybe he really was gone.
“No master…. I can’t take it… please… let me go please… I will be better tomorrow I promise promise… please let me go… it’s too much right now…” Amanda couldn’t stand the idea of being forced to endure pleasure right now. For some strange reason that she could not understand she began at that moment to feel as though she was being watched. It felt so strange.
“Awwwww I think that someone’s lying…” With that Greg traced his fingers over her glistening lips and touched her throbbing clit lightly… It was the strangest surprise that Amanda felt yet. She didn’t feel anything between her legs. She was aware that he touched her in her most private of places but she did not feel it. She only felt the earth shattering quiver that went through her body and the deep earthy moan that went through her body.
“Seeee, my naughty little tickle slut is a liar… I have friends to deal with liars…” Amanda didn’t know how to process that statement. The feeling of being watched distracted her from the obvious connotation. She foolishly feared that there was someone else in the room with her. If only there was? Maybe someone could stop Greg from the unthinkable torture to come?
“I have my lobster claws to deal with liars pet…!” Amanda needed no more explanation.
“Ohhhhh god no, please Greg don’t not that… don’t touch my legs… please don’t touch my fucking legs, not my leggs… please not my leggs…. Oh god not my legs Greg… please please pleas.e. I’ll be good I promise… I promise…” This was even sweeter than The Taskmaster imagined.
“Oh honey, but my lobster claws are hungry.” Greg brought his fingers to her already tingly thighs. She felt the ticklish jolts of electricity shoot right through her entire body. It started on her quadriceps muscle and then rammed right through her clit and breasts. The feeling was horrible. Amanda had never felt anything like it. She was screaming at the top of her lungs and begging for Greg to stop. She couldn’t move her legs one inch tied as tightly as they were. There was only the flexing and relaxing of her muscles. That did nothing to actually alleviate the ticklish sensations, but it was the only mock defense that her defeated body could make against the thoroughly horrid tickling.
The Taskmaster was incessant about the verbal teasing about the lobster claws punishing her for lying about enjoying her torment. It wasn’t a lie, she hated it. It was the most terrifying thing that she had ever been put through. Her body was just not cooperating. The unfairness of holding that against her just sent her deeper and deeper into the bottomless pit of despair.
“Please ahehahehaehaheahehahe aehehahehaeh Please ahheahahehaehahehaheh not the claws ahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahhahahaahahahahah please ahahaheahehahehaeha not the thighs ahahehaehahehaehaheahahaahe” Every one of her pleas that went unanswered just served to strip away any irrational hope that The Taskmaster would ever stop his merciless torture.
“Okay, okay. Your wish is my command sweetie…” The Taskmaster stopped his tickling immediately and sat back to admire his very ticklish prize.
“Thank you master… thank you so much… thank you…” This was the first time in their relationship that she thought her master actually listened to her begging… thought!
“My claws wanted to move to your knees anyway… hahaha” The Taskmaster said it so playfully. He acted as though having her knees tickled in this bondage position was not a recurring nightmare for his ticklish wife. The irony of his comment actually made Amanda laugh through the involuntary thrashing. That made her nervous. He could have her reactions, but this new monster before her did not deserve her happiness. That was something that she reserved for the man that she married wherever he was. She felt terrible for sharing their inside tickle joke with this demented stranger.
Still, The Taskmaster kept up the diabolical playful teasing. All the while he was tickle torturing her hyper-sensitive knees without mercy. Amanda begged and begged and begged for him to stop whenever she had the air not allocated to her desperate uncontrolled laugher and howling, but the pleas were only received with more evil teasing. It made her sick to her stomach how much Greg was enjoying this. He was having the time of two lifetimes causing her the most desperate discomfort that she had ever experienced in her life. He was gaining a sadistic thrill every time that she shamelessly begged for his mercy. It made her sick to her stomach that she had been reduced to calling him master. It was bad enough that he was forcing her to endure this mindless tickling, but to have to break down and address him with such a title was the last thing that Amanda wanted on her conscious. Still, if there was anything that she could do to stop the mindless kneading of her knees then she would gladly do it…
The Taskmaster was focused. He saw every fiber and every tendon flex in her ultra sensitive legs. He saw every weak point become exposed. He saw every muscle contract and expand in a cruel dance that he was forcing them to conduct. He was listening to his wife’s screaming and laughing not just for enjoyment but for precision. He was mapping out every ticklish centimeter of her warm sensitive quivering flesh. He wanted to make sure that he did not leave one shred of her sanity in tact, because he missed something. He wanted to make sure that ever dimple in every muscle was tormented to the maximum amount. It still amazed him that the zone from his Wife’s delicate womanhood to the tips of her knees would hold the key to her most violent ticklish reactions. He was in no mood to question the arbitrary location of her greatest weakness. He just wanted to mercilessly exploit it to his sadistic hearts content.
Looking down on her as he ruthlessly tickled her knees to no end she was a mess. Her hair was again matted to her face. Her arms and legs were straining as much as possible to move even one inch against his cruel bondage but Amanda was held fast. He increased the pressure on her thighs and knees to force her mercifully into silent laughter. Amanda no longer had to worry about sucking in air to beg, for there was literally no hope of it. This was the time that The Taskmaster had waited for. She was finally unable to muster anything to express how terrible the sensations were that he was fiendishly perpetrating against her. He could only look at the expression of sheer anguish behind her tear soaked blindfold. He tried to imagine how much this must be torturing her to her very core. He knew that she could not take one more second of it and he kept up his cruel massage of her sensitive legs until he had the fill of her silent laughter mixed with desperate inhaling breaths only to be sucked into the abyss of silence again as his cruel hands found new points of hilarity on her warm quivering thighs.
When The Taskmaster was through with Amanda’s legs she was almost through with the world of the living. She had almost slipped into the warm bath of the unconscious… almost.
“Huhhhhhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh is uhhhhhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhh it uhhhhhhhhhhhhh uhuuhhhhhhhhhhhuhuuu over?” Amanda could only speak in between desperate gasps for air. She felt Greg sit back down next to her head.
“You earned it…” Amanda thought for a brief second that Greg was talking about her release, but then she felt that he was motioning for her to take another drink. She was disappointed that she was still tied, but she took the small act of kindness for what it was. Greg put the bottle of Gatorade to her lips. She drank thirstily. She could feel the energy rushing through her body with every fruit punch drop that flowed through her heaving tummy. As she finished her refreshment a chilling idea swept through her. Greg didn’t do that for her… he did it so that she would last through more of his sadistic tickle torture. The depths of his diabolical sadism began to terrify new parts of Amanda’s psyche. This Greg’s calculation was eerily demonic.
“Awwwwee… my little girl was thirsty wasn’t she…? Now pet, we have to have a discussion about something. You see I am not blind. I know that you are a naughty little tickle slut… I want to hear you admit it…” Victory already in hand, The Taskmaster never missed a chance to rub it in.
In addition to perspiration Amanda’s legs were glistening with the sheen of her womanhood’s desperate throbbing arousal. She hated Greg for doing this while she was so desperately aroused. She began to think that the whole romantic scene on the couch was just to weaken her for his sinister plans.
She just shook her head from side to side in response to his lewd insinuation. Amanda would deny that at all costs.
(bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz)
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh Godddddddddddddddddddd!” Amanda was horrified. She knew that Greg was maliciously fingering her new electric toy. She couldn’t contemplate what it would do to her swollen overly-sensitive clit right now.
“Ohhhh I assure you sweet heart, he cannot help you right now. We’re all alone, and you are all mine pet. I will make you admit it to me slave… Your arousal is mine, your pleasure is mine, even your fear is mine... You are all mine pet…!” The Taskmaster brought the powerful vibrator to her swollen clitoris and her throbbing moist lips. She let out a cry from the very core of the earth when the vibrator on high was pressed to her moist firm nubbin.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh” was all that poor Amanda could manage. She has been pushed far beyond the capacity for rational thought. Any reasoning capacity she had was being spent trying to understand why even though she was aware of the feelings smoldering between her legs, she was painfully not feeling them. She was aware that Greg was vibrating her. She was aware that her clit was being pushed closer and closer to the edge of explosion. She was aware that the pressure was building in her lower body. She was aware of all this but she did not feel the warm tingles of the vibrator or the euphoric shivers through her body. It was as if she was just trapped in a world of torment and could not even experience the pleasure associated with her merciless external torture…
“Say it… or you know what I will do…!” The Taskmaster was ruthless. He knew that she had been on the verge of having a devastating orgasm for the past few hours. He knew that she was so close. He wanted his prize. He wanted his greatest victory. He wanted ownership of the most beautiful woman in the world for the rest of his life and access to her delicious screams no matter what. “Say it slave…!”
Amanda’s mind was absolute mush. She was aware of the sensation building deep inside her but was unable to experience it. The only part of it left for her was the desperation to answer her most dreaded question. She knew that whoever was enjoying these sensations was leaving her with the left over task of begging for them. She could swear that whoever was watching her was giggling at her plight.
“Ohhhhhhhhhh I’m your little tickle sluttttt hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!” Amanda was broken. The last fig leaf had been taken from her. She was his to do with as he pleased. The sad part is that she feared she would not even be able to enjoy the fruits of her destruction in her altered state of consciousness.
“I can’t hear you pet… you had better scream it…!”
“Immmmmm yourrrrrrrrrr litttttllllle tickllllllllllllle Slutttttttttttttttttt hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm please masteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer let me cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum?” This was exactly what The Taskmaster wanted. He knew that she was just bending to her body’s desires but on some level he knew that she was beginning to understand her place in the world. She only needed one subtle reminder…
“No.” With that Greg kissed her on the forehead and turned off the vibrator. He laid it calmly on the dresser. “That’s what you get for being such a tease sweetie…!”
Amanda’s whimpering became perfuse. She couldn’t believe it. The denial of any form of enjoyment that she craved more than anything in the world was too terrible to deal with. She felt guiltier and guiltier for what she had done to Greg by purposely taunting him about not being able to tickle her earlier. She knew exactly how she felt. Strangely, in the back of her head, Amanda was aware that whatever part of her was on the verge of climax was thrilled at Greg’s revelation of her continued frustration. What was happening to her…?
The thought was only put out of her head by the loosening of her leather straps. She was finally being let go. She felt so relieved. She let the tears of joy join the countless tears of sorrow in her soaked blindfold.
“Thank you master... thank you…!” Amanda was so genuinely appreciative. The yogurt and the drink of water had started a twisted form of endearment to this powerful stranger. She was genuinely happy when she was untied from her stringent bondage. She curled up into a tight ball in her husband’s warm strong arms when she was finally free. She was still sobbing in joy and confusion over the sea of emotions that were swimming behind her eyes. She didn’t even bother to take off the blindfold. She just wanted to be close to her husband once again. For some reason his strong arms felt even safer after her ordeal.
“You did so well pet… your punishment is over… did you enjoy it?” That question made Amanda even more uncomfortable. Her only response was to pull Greg closer to her on the bed and crawl deeper into his embrace. “Now it’s time for my pleasure sweetie. We tried your favorite position now it’s time for mine!” Amanda’s heart froze at the realization that her ordeal was not over. She couldn’t bear to look at The Taskmaster. “I’ve been thinking about having you all spread out face down all day pet… I think that you are really going to enjoy it…!”
The Taskmaster is a true sadist. The only thing that scared Amanda more than being spread eagle was being spread eagle face down. She couldn’t bear to speak. She just stained his bare chest with her salty tears. She started hitting him in the chest weekly. She started kicking her legs at him. She knew that she couldn’t get away, but she had to let him know how terrible and evil he was for doing this to her. She had never allowed Greg to do this before. The backs of her legs were too sensitive. They had been off limits since they were married and this position was a curse word in Amanda’s mind. Today was a day of many rule changes in the relationship of Greg and Amy.
Amanda’s desperate kicking and fisting only served to make the sadistic urges deep within Greg burn hotter and hotter. “Don’t worry pet... I am going to give those sexy legs the attention that they deserve no matter how much you SCREAM!”
The Taskmaster loved to make Amanda terrified. This is what Amanda had come to realize. She also realized that her demented captor was very good at it. She was horrified. She couldn’t even take this from Greg; this evil monster would leave her in a heap with her legs splayed before him. Between that realization and the denial of her climax Amanda just reached a new level of hopelessness. This creature before her was a demon. He was going to drag her kicking and screaming over the vast depths of ticklish hell. No matter how much she screamed for a mercy beyond her grasp, only he controlled the dark demented evil that would be coursing through the backs of her legs within minutes.
“Oh please master not this… you know that I can’t take this… please don’t do this to me master ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” In the midst of her screaming The Taskmaster pushed her down on her face and pinned her to the bed. She tried her best to fight him but in her weakened state she was just a limp noodle. She kept kicking her legs as much as possible and beating her hands into the mattress but her efforts were futile. Greg was so big and so strong. She hated that fact with all that she was.
Amanda hated the way that he could manhandle her any time that he wanted. She hated the fact that he could render her helpless any time that he wanted. She hated the fact that he was so powerful and loved nothing more than to indulge his insidious fetish for her deepest screams of mercy mixed with her most hysterical peals of laughter coming from the depths of her very soul. As she felt her limbs being secured to the bed in by far her most phobic position she prayed quietly to herself that she would have a soul left when The Taskmaster was done with her.
The feelings of sheer dread coursed through her body. She had feared this day for her entire life. Being tied up against her will and having the backs of her legs free to be teased and tickled at an evil man’s sadistic will. Her legs were spread very far apart so that prying hands could easily invade her bald glistening mound. She felt helpless, utterly helpless. She knew that there was nothing that she could do to stop her evil Taskmaster from indulging his deepest most demonic pleasures on her poor defenseless body.
She could not help but keep sobbing into her blindfold as she felt Greg place a pillow under her svelte tummy and take his place between her spread legs.
“Greg… please… just stop… I can’t take this please… oh god stop just fucking stop please… I am so fucking scarred right now Greg please… you don’t understand how bad this is for me... My legs are way too ticklish for you torture the like this. I can’t move them at all Greg. Please just fucking stop. I’ll be your slave I promise… please just don’t fucking tickle my legs..!” Deep down Amanda knew that her pleas for mercy were going to fall on deaf ears. She just had to do something to let out some of the tension that was brewing inside her. The isolation and the horror of having to face her worst fear alone were too much for her to take. Even if it was only a little, it helped ease the tension inside her for Amanda to scream at the top of her lungs for mercy. The side effect was that this was the very addiction that drove The Taskmaster to his most diabolical deeds. He wanted her to let go. Amanda hated screaming at the top of her lungs only to have her pleas go unanswered. She could hear someone laughing at her and it wasn’t Greg…
Greg removed the blindfold much to Amanda’s dismay. The blindfold hid the horror of being tied the way that she was. Now her vision was not obstructed by an arbitrary piece of cloth. Amanda’s vision was now constricted only by the very position of bondage that terrified all that was inside of her. She was tied with her face in the mattress with her arms and legs spread as wide as they would possibly be stretched. She had never ALLOWED Greg to tie her like this and now the Evil Taskmaster was going to make her pay for teasing him with her bare legs for so many years. Amanda wanted to scream out how sorry she was, but she knew that it would do her no good. She jus saved her breath and gritted her teeth in anticipation of the inhuman treatment that she was now being forced to endure.
She felt Greg’s strong hands lightly caressing the backs of her legs. She feared the massaging of her calves, hamstrings, and the tendons in the backs of her knees more than anything in the entire world. This light feathery tickle was just a tease. He wanted all the nerves in her firm supple legs to be as alert as inhumanly possible so that they would be as unbearably ticklish as he has fantasized about all these long years. Making them forbidden created a sub-fetish within The Taskmaster’s sadistic tickling obsession. He had been locked in the prison of his own mind for the last 12 years, and nothing comforted him except the thought of one day being free again to tease, tantalize, tickle and torture the most sensitive parts of his Wife’s legs.
“Tell me that I am not allowed to tickle the backs of your legs pet…” The Taskmaster wanted to make sure that this had been thought about and calculated long before she was bound before him this night. He knew exactly which gentle curves were going to make her the most desperately hysterical. He absolutely couldn’t wait to exploit them.
“I hate you…!” This was the last part of her. The Taskmaster stripped away all that she was. He owned all of her. The only thing left were her deepest feelings, emotions, and most desperate reactions. He heard her start to sniffle again trying to choke back her salty tears. His heart went out to here…
“Awwwwww honey you are sad again… I can fix THAT!” With that The Taskmasters most diabolical torture began and poor helpless Amanda’s sanity ended. He started massaging the firm backs of her thighs and there was absolutely nothing that she could do to sop him. She was his tickle toy she knew that. Her only role in life was to satisfy his darkest ticklish whims. That heavy reality sank deeper and deeper into her hopeless mind with each electric tweak of her supple hamstrings.
She wished desperately that she could move at least an inch. She was bound so tightly that she was denied the real release of thrashing. This was making the tickling sensations in the backs of her legs even more server. She absolutely could not take it. All she could do was endure the demented tightening and loosening of her hamstring muscle fibers and they did absolutely nothing to quell the electric shocks that were shooting up the backs of Amanda’s thighs. She couldn’t help but realize that in the back of her mind the feelings were slamming harder and harder into her aching clit that had been denied volcanic release so cruelly. Every muscle in her body strained desperately against her Tight bondage.
“Come on little slave girl… tell our master that he is not allowed to tickle your ticklish little calves… come on tell me… You said it so confidently before…!”
Amanda just sucked in all the air that was available to her… “I hate you Greg... I fucking hate you… hahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahaha I hate you... hahahahahahahahahahahahahahah I hate you….” Greg just let her cries of hate and malice wash through him like a warm bath of erotic lust. This is what he came for. This is what he wanted. He wanted to go beyond the little housewife who liked to play tickle games when the kids were at school. He wanted to get to the darkest depths of Amanda’s helplessly ticklish soul and torment all that she was. He had never had the courage until now to explore this demonic passion to its conclusion.
With her cries of hate spurring him on, The Taskmaster moved to the ever sensitive backs of Amanda’s knees. These delicate tendons were a literal hot bed of ticklish sensation. Amanda could feel them being gently pressed and massaged and the feelings were horrifically excruciating. She could not move her leg one inch tied as tightly as she was. She screamed every obscenity that she could think of at her demented Taskmaster. He listened for the sadistic thrill he derived from affirmation of his omnipotence over his victim, nothing more. Amanda had only seen Greg like this in her sweetest nightmares.
Then The Taskmaster moved his knowing hands to her calves. She hated having her calves touched. Getting a pedicure made her insides churn with desperate fear. The dangerous tickly sensations were too much for her to take. Amanda pulled with all the strength that she could against her tight leather straps but was only met with debilitating frustration. There was no getting away but Amanda promised herself that she would spit, kick and struggle until she passed out. Her feet were turning wildly and her hands were balling up into tight little fists as the only parts of her body that could move at all to do anything to dissipate the terrible sensations being forced on her supple young body. She hated Greg for putting her through this madness. She hated him even more for ignoring her desperate pleas for mercy. She wanted it to end, dear god she wanted it to end.
The Taskmaster had a particular obsession with Amanda’s calves. He had been giving her pedicures at their house ever since they had been married. Every time that he massaged her calves he was reminded of his forbidden lust for her hyper-ticklish weakness. All that pent up energy was being visited on the poor beautifully toned muscles just above the ankles of his blushing beauty. The maniacal howling of ticklish desperation was reward enough for over a decade of waiting to have his wife’s greatest weakness and fear as his own person treasure.
After he got fully acquainted with her calves, The Taskmaster started alternating from her three worst spots. He didn’t want her to experience even the least bit of comfort. He only had this one chance to make his terribly lasting first impression, and there was no way that he was going to let it slip by the wayside because he was not thorough. He was going to implant a deep sense of fear in his poor wife. He was going to make her cower in the very sight of him as no person had before. He is The Taskmaster; before him she rightly trembles.
Amanda was lost in the deep crater of her own despair. She was terrified and resigned to her fate all at the same time. The entire concept of mercy had been forcibly driven from her. She just screamed her head off and went more and more insane with every passing second. She had given up begging. All that she could do when she had the breath was to scream how much she fucking hated her husband for making her fears into such a reality. She hated him for violating her boundaries, spitting on her precious rules, and taking away her coveted sense of safety.
The backs of Amanda’s legs received this hellacious mistreatment for another 45 minutes. She had feared it for so long. Greg had been right. It was much worse than she had ever thought possible. Amanda’s muscles were sore, she was exhausted, and she was ashamed that in the midst of her greatest despair she was still regrettably right on the verge of a mind numbing orgasm. She could not feel the bliss of her desperate arousal but she could feel the pressure building in her lower body and the desire for immediate release. She still wondered why she couldn’t feel the pleasure. It was almost like it wasn’t hers anymore…
Then her world was destroyed again. She felt lotion being poured all over the backs of her legs. She was terrified at the possibilities. Her legs were still tingly with the sensations of her most desperate tickle torture that she had ever endured. That’s when her Taskmaster surprised her again. Greg firmly massaged and kneaded every muscle in the backs of her legs. He made sure to massage firm enough not to tickle at all. He massaged her legs and took away all the tickles and soreness of her bondage. Amanda was so grateful. All that she could do was sit there and weep into the mattress. She couldn’t believe that her master was being so nice to her. He was doing this because he wanted to not because she forced him to. For some reason that felt so genuine. She could feel pieces of her heart going into her master through the pores of her skin as he massaged. She was weeping but it was more of confusion and joy than sorrow.
Her husband’s strong hands were massaging the backs of her legs but she could feel the sensation in the back of her clit. At least she was aware of it. She still couldn’t experience the pleasure that was building within her swelling moist clit with every massage of her husbands hands and it frustrated her to no end. Someone was laughing at her plight and it was not Greg… part of Amanda thought that she had literally been tickled mad.
When he was done with her sensual massage he climbed the bed to kneel right between her open legs. She was painfully aware of how hard Greg must be right now. She could sense that he was ready to purge his own tickling sensations that have been accumulating in his terribly aching balls. She braced herself as he rubbed his manhood on her glistening thigh preparing to enter her gently from behind. Amanda gasped. There was a part of her that just craved the closeness of intercourse to alleviate the isolation of mindless torment. There was also a part of her that just felt wrong being so intimate after such emotional turmoil.
“You are so perfect pet… You have earned this… I promise I will make it all that you dreamt of…!” The only dream this resembled for Amanda was of a far off nightmare inspired by some obscure horror movie. She still could not deny that there was a part of her that swooned when Greg’s hardness pressed into her. She could feel the closeness she so desperately needed. She was aware that he was deep inside her, she was aware that she was dangerously close to cumming, but she couldn’t actually experience the pleasure. Her inability to reconcile the pleasure her body was experiencing with her emotional turmoil was mysteriously haunting...
The Taskmaster began to grind rhythmically into her elevated pelvis. Feeling her wetness warmly engulf all of him sent deliciously warm moist tickles all the way through his body and pounding into his aching balls. Amanda was out of energy. She was just resigned to accepting her master’s hardness and hoping that he would be done soon… could this be hope? Greg held her hips with one hand and moved her in time with his ever quickening gyration. He had been building to this orgasm since his first teasing tickles and playful spanking of his perfect Wife this morning. Just thinking about how playful and fun she was sent him closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. There was just one thing missing.
“Ahahahahahaahhahahahahahahahahaha stop please stop ahahahahahahahah!” Amanda erupted in desperate ticklish laughter as Greg’s free hand found his way to her sensitive ribs. She hated having her ribs tickled while he slid back and forth deep within her. The ticklish sensation was coursing through her very being. There was nothing that she could do to stop him. She just hoped to herself that he would finish quickly. That is until IT happened…
It was a mixture of the ticklish sensations and the pleasure of her arousal that she had been denied since she blocked out her enjoyment when she was first tied to the bed. She had been trying purposely not to give in to her enjoyment from the very beginning. It was only a second but the tickling mixed with Greg’s deliberate intrusion on her secret spot deep within her made the feeling come crashing into her conscious mind. It was the most intense erotic feeling that she ever felt in her life. All the energy that Greg had expended tormenting her had collected between her legs and the fire was burning hotter than ten thousand suns. When it dissipated and return to the back of her mind out of her reach she was even more frustrated, but that was not nearly the worst of her problems.
Amanda was more than startled to see a young woman sitting in the chair that Greg had pulled up next to the bed. This was the person that had been laughing at her plight the entire time that she was being tortured beyond reason and her heart felt pleas were going unanswered. Amanda was aghast to see that this young woman was watching intently while she was being taken from behind and having her ribs mercilessly tickled (her lustful eyes were as wide as saucers). Amanda was even more terrified to see that this sick little girl had her hand shoved down her shorts that barely covered her young legs. The young woman was touching herself. She was getting off on the terrible things that Greg had been doing to Amanda. She was wearing a tight little shirt that barely covered her large breasts. Amanda thought she might have snuck in, but the truth was more terrifying. Amanda suddenly realized that the young girl was HER.
This was the silly 18 year old girl that she left behind to start dating the professional man that she eventually married. This was the 18 year old girl who used to stay up late at night touching her self fantasizing about being abducted against her will and tickled within an inch of her life. This was the physical manifestation of the pleasure that she had been denying herself even though her husband had been giving it to her so unselfishly. Amanda could barley think. The little girl was working herself closer and closer to a mind numbing orgasm and Amanda could not believe that she just sat there. Amanda could not speak over her desperate screams of laughter as The Taskmaster was violently tickling her ribs. She believed that if she thought hard enough that she could tell the 18 year old version of herself to untie her or at least help her in some way. (((((“Please help me!”))))) The 18 year old slave girl just shook her head playfully back and forth from side to side. She was having far too much fun lewdly enjoying the spectacle of Amanda suffering at the mercy of her ruthless Husband. Seeing the little girl shake her head “no” made Amanda feel more alone than ever. Amanda did not even want to help herself out of this position.
Then all of a sudden Amanda could feel herself sitting in the chair watching the little girl writhing madly under Greg. She could tell that the 18 ear old version of herself was having the erotic time of her life being tickled mercilessly while having intercourse with her Husband. Greg didn’t appear as himself, his eyes were red, and his skin was covered with stiff feathers symbolizing the horrific tickling demon of her most sinful nightmares. Seeing the girl being tortured like that stirred deep arousal within Amanda and she snapped back to reality.
Suddenly, all the feelings of pleasure that she had been avoiding came crashing into her temples. Her body started moving in time with her husband despite the mad tickling and The Taskmaster could sense the change. Amanda’s emotions of fear and doubt were gone. They were replaced with the unbridled lust that her husband had created deep down within her. She had never felt this way before. Tickling had always kept her from climax. Right now the feelings that Greg was creating in her twitching ribcage and under her arms were pushing her closer and closer to what she knew would be an orgasm but felt more intense than anything she thought remotely possible.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yesssssssss ahhahahahahahahahahahahahahah yes hahahahahahhahahahahahahahahah!” Greg knew it. He had finally won. She was his. She was all his. For all eternity Amanda was his. She was his toy to torment and pleasure all that he wanted. He almost wept as the emotions welled up in his chest and his balls ached deliciously. He knew exactly what she was thinking. He bent down and nibbled on her ear.
The feelings that Amanda was experiencing were powerful enough to have started an ear splitting orgasm but there was something holding the fire in her loins. The feeling of her husband’s teeth on her earlobe soothed her and she swooned to meet his affectionate caress. She was still screaming in helpless laughter and that only made her erotic feelings more intense much to her delight. “Cumm for me Amanda!” Her master had called her by her first name for the first time. Amanda felt so proud of herself. She looked over at the chair and the little girl was gone. All the pleasure that she was experiencing was a parting gift from the part of herself she left behind that she now gladly accepted back into her conscious mind. Amanda promised to never leave her behind again; no matter what people thought.
Greg’s words found their way to her burning hardened clit as he massaged her secret spot from deep within her and the volcanic eruption hit with catastrophically seismic proportions. She strained every muscle in her body against her tight bondage to grind as hard against her deliciously Evil Husband as much as inhumanly possible. She wanted to have as many waves of this delicious new pleasure coursing though her body as she could possibly manage. Luckily for her, Her Taskmaster never stopped his malicious stroking and she was lost in an ocean of pure unadulterated lustful exuberance.
The tickling of her torso melded with the nuclear meltdown deep within her loins like never before. Every time that Greg’s hands pressed against her rib cage its like her torso had a mini-gasm as she writhed under Greg like a mad woman from the waves of pleasure washing through her entire body from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She just let the feelings crash into her temples as she fell in love with her husband all over again. Amanda’s desperate hysterical screams in the midst of cumming all of her fears out was all that Greg could stand. His pulsing erection began to violently spasm as a terrifying orgasm gripped his entire body and wrong every muscle within him. She was sent on a second path to orgasmic bliss just from feeling Greg’s own spasms deep inside her.
The new warmth against her special spot caused even more shivers up and down her spine. She could feel Greg gyrating deep inside her trying to pump out all of the liquid in his entire body through the pulsing tip of his erection that was exploding inside her. The mass of orgasmic bliss went on for 10 minutes straight with each of them in touch with parts of them that they had hidden so deeply inside themselves for far too long. Amanda had never felt anything like that and she could tell that Greg had been sent on his own screaming roller coaster. As the deep sea of sleep took over her body she couldn’t help but think how relieved she was that this awakening had finally happened.
As the morning light poured in through the window of their bedroom the deepest fear gripped ‘The Taskmaster.’ The truth is that The Taskmaster was the real Greg. He had created the mask that he wore to fit in with other kids. He knew that deriving pleasure from complete control over a helpless *ticklish* girl would not go over well with his future colleagues. Since he was a child Greg feared not being loved for his most intimate personal perversions. He had only found one person that vaguely understood and accepted him and that was Amanda. Even then it was through the fog of his ‘mask.’
He was terrified that she would reject him and make him create another mask to hide his true nature. He hid under the blankets as long as he could so he could put off having to deal with his Wife. He had managed to hide for these past few years and was indulged with casual light/medium tickle play. He regretted ever seeing the ray of hope the previous morning. Part of him wished that last night had never happened and part of him knew that no matter how much he tried he would never forget it.
He felt his wife get up and go to the bathroom without him. That was a BAD sign. They usually always got up and went to take a bath together. He just lay under the covers and hoped that his Wife would take his apology. He hoped that she did not loose her love for him, even if he thought he would have to regain her trust over time. He thought about Mark and Josh and how much he loved them. No matter what it took to make last night up to his beautiful Amanda, Greg made a promise to himself that he would do it.
Amanda walked back to the bedroom and turned off the light in their bathroom. She thought it strange that Greg would still be in bed. She thought that she would be the one who was exhausted. She didn’t have the heart to wake him too early after last night. It had been a lot for both of them so she just assume let her husband sleep. She was wearing one of his older button down shirts as a pajama set. She knew how he loved that.
Greg felt the weight of his wife return to the bed and he prepared for the worst. He was quite surprised to feel her hand reach around him and squeeze him tightly. She just snuggled tightly up against him and started lovingly kissing him on the cheek to wake him gently. She let her warm sweet lips caress his chin his neck and his earlobe as she roused her gentle dragon to attention.
“You know… you can’t stay in bed all day… you have THINGS to do…” Amanda’s breath in Greg’s ear melted every fiber of his being. He couldn’t believe what was happening. Her hand probing between his legs was a very pleasant shock. He felt her swing her leg over his and press her warm freshly glistening mound right against his thigh and it sparked him to life faster than any cappuccino.
He rolled over to her and looked her in her hazel eyes. She looked so beautiful. “Good morning!” Greg was at a loss for words when his wife took her hair and encased his entire head in it as she kissed him deeply and passionately. It always made him feel so intimate to be lost in her sea of hair as they kissed. Greg’s heart was pounding in his chest. He was looking for the slightest hint of anger but there was none. His wife was just showering him in unselfish affection and letting him know how much she still desired him. He felt her softening socks rub up against his legs and he could smell a thick layer of cucumber melon on her skin…
“What were you up to this morning?” He pulled away from her passionate kiss to make a subtle inquisition about her apparel.
“I wanted everything to be perfect for my master. You have me all to yourself here for the next few days with no kids to worry about. Plus I had the most naughty dreams last night that I thought you might want to *Punish* me for before breakfast!” Greg’s mind was racing a mile a minute. This was not helped by the fact that Amanda’s hand had been stroking him this entire time. Just hearing her invite the word “punish” sent chills through him. She playfully kissed and nibbled in his ear, she knew how much Greg loved that. “Last night was amazing… Your are just so FUCKING SADISTIC and I can’t nearly get enough of it Master.” Greg didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to deduce that Amanda was perfectly okay with their new intensity of play. Further evidence to how much she was looking forward to their next intense session could be found as she was suggestively grinding herself against his leg.
He looked up into her hazel eyes as her hair still made for their perfect morning romantic nook that enclosed the two of them. He just had to ask. “I thought that you would be mad at me…?”
She playfully punched him in the arm and smiled from ear to ear as she kissed him deeply again. “I am really mad at you Greg… hehe I can’t believe that you read my diary…
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Epilogue:
In the interest of fitting in we often try to change or block out big parts of ourselves to conform to another person or societies expectations. In the case of our loving couple a young girl with naughty fantasies of abduction and sensual torture and an aspiring professional who loved the idea of rendering the woman he loved completely helpless for merciless tickle-torture both left parts of themselves behind to make a more ‘acceptable’ suburban family.
Greg and Amanda spent so much time burying these parts of them to make their life look normal to people on the outside of their inner circle that it was hard to be honest, even with each other. They enjoyed Tickle play over the years and had a good sex life, but nothing at the level of intensity that either of them truly desired. Ironically ‘The Slave Girl’ was even more of a ruthless tease than Amanda because she thoroughly accepted and enjoyed the mindless torment that she constantly earned herself. ‘The Taskmaster’ was even more loving and caring of Amanda because everything he did was more genuine-he was no longer trying to hide anything and he could be completely emotionally honest. That and his new found depths of debauchery really made Amanda truly feel ‘specail.’
Sometimes, the only way to rediscover those parts of yourself that you left behind to make yourself look better to other people is to take time together as a couple away from those people so that you can work on being honest, open, and appealing to each other-not the people in your circle. There are few venues on this earth that offer that same romantic seclusion like the New Jersey Shore.
The END
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Get out to VOTE
Hello again everyone. I am so floored by the support that this work has garnered... I am completely blown away. Thank you all for your support. In that spirit I would like to humbly ask you all to help support the writers of this forum that provide the detailed content that we all love so much by voting in the Golden feather awards here.
and to all those who like to remain anonymous. I understand. I was like that for a while myself. you will be happy to know that there is a process for voting that does not require anything public signifying your identity. I would love it if you would avail yourself to that process as well. Thank you all so much again for your wonderful support and I think i speak for all the members of the "Writers Guild" when I thank you for participating in the Golden Feather selection process.
Thank you all again so much... this has meant so much to me.
JJ.
This is the final chapter in my most literary work to date. It is a representation of an aspect of this fetish that was even foreign to me before I endeavored to put it to pen. To those who fear to enter… I still thank you for taking the time to take a look. For the rest of the sick ruthless FUCKS… I would like to cordially invite you… to my DYSFUNCTION!
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The AWAKENING (Parts I-III)
Amanda could only start to gently sob down into the pillow. The sea of dreaded emotions leaked from her teary eyes to stain casing of the soft material. She was so terrified. She had no idea what lay in store for her… “Master please?” She deduced that she was dealing with Greg’s most sadistic side. This was her last ditch effort. It had to work.
Greg bent down and lovingly comforted his wife. He wrapped his arms around her. He kissed her more lovingly on the neck and earlobes than he ever had in her entire life. He made the loving “shhhhhhhhhh” sound to quiet her emotions. He rubbed the tension from her shoulders and held her so tightly. He lightly brought his lips to her ear… “There there honey. It’s okay now… it’s okay… it’s almost over…”
“Oh God thank you Greg… I was so…” Her temporary glimmer of hope was cut far to short by the realization of Greg’s intentions.
“Don’t worry… I promise you… It will be much worse than what you are thinking of…. I wouldn’t want to disappoint my naughty little FUCKING tease of a slave girl now would I? What kind of a monster do you think I am? Hahahahahahahahahahahahahah” The Taskmaster had just achieved perfection. He had only been free for a few minutes and he already mimicked Greg’s mannerisms to perfection. He was now free to put his servant’s emotions on his personal yo yo for his enjoyment and his alone… not even hers.
Amanda was lost. She felt as if she was hanging over a pit and the final string had just been cut. The Taskmaster’s demented laughter haunted her to no end. She did everything within her power to get free. She knew it would fail but she had to try. She started kicking wildly, screaming at the top of her lungs and flailing her arms like a mad woman. This was all greeted by not only futility of her actions, but the fact that they were only arousing The Taskmaster even more.
“I hate you I fucking hate you, I swear to god I fucking hate you… let me go… I said fucking let me go… god damn it let me go please let me go…” Amanda was sobbing freely now. The fear had consumed her entirely. There was nothing left but the fear and a slight ray of hope. The hope was that somewhere deep inside this thing on top of her that her husband still existed. The sad truth was that in reality this was her husband. He was just finally brave enough to take off his mask…
“That’s it honey… let it all go… you have been holding this back from me for our entire marriage… let it all go… what you don’t let me have.. I promise I am going to take it from you… SLOWLY…” The Taskmaster took his slave girl over his shoulder kicking and screaming.
The Taskmaster was so happy that Amanda had finally broken through to her real feelings. He felt so proud of himself. She banged her fists into his back. She cursed him. She called him names. She cried onto the back of his shirt. She screamed at the top of her lungs. It was all music to the Taskmaster’s ears. Finally she was letting go. He had helped her stop hiding. Maybe she would even thank him later… if she could speak…!
The Taskmaster threw the slave girl down onto the bed. Amanda was still screaming and cursing and begging for mercy. It was so cute. He always loved this part of her but today it was so genuine. It was like the first smell of flowers in the spring, or the first kiss of air off the morning sea. Her thrashing was perfect. She was really trying to get away from him. She was desperately trying to keep her limbs from being pinned down. Her gyrations were like a sweet ballet of desperation. Next time he would definitely have to tape record this. She sees the leather straps tied to the four posts of the bed. She looks so scared. If she only knew… He pressed himself across her mid section that was still bare from their little GAME. His slave was so gullible.
He inched the pants down her kicking legs. Didn’t she realize she was helping him? Silly girl! Before even The Taskmaster knew it her pants were off. He took in the sight of her bare legs kicking wildly. It made his heart melt. She wasn’t holding back any of her reactions. She was so unselfish (or maybe just helpless).
He could see her freshly pedicured feet. The things he was going to do to them. She had been teasing him with them all day and now it was his turn to torture them. He pinned her arms over her head and started inching her shirt up her torso. She was so helpless there he had to increase her discomfort. Every inch of flesh that was bared was met with a server tickling. He massaged her hips wickedly. The vicious gyrations of her body fighting the unbearable sensations were like a full body massage from a spa to The Taskmaster. He could tell form the look in her eyes that she couldn’t take it. That was good. Reactions are always purest beyond a person’s limits he thought to himself.
“Ohhhhhhhh god not there ahahhaahahahahahahhahha please Greg don’t hahahahahahahahahah tickle me ahahahahahahahahahhaha I can’t take it ahhaahhahaha I can’t fucking take it hahahahahahahahaha!” Her desperation was beginning to get to him. The throbbing between his legs was becoming more and more present as her helplessness ran through him. He was the true sadist. The more his victim suffered the more sexually aroused he became.
Amanda could tell that he was drunk with lust. She could see the way that he was looking at her. It was like he was in a trance. He heard what she was saying but she didn’t think he was listening. He was too transfixed on making sure that every nerve in her entire body was tormented past her breaking point. When he got to her hollows it was all over. Her shirt was over her head and her nipples were unfortunately still erect and on display. She hated the fact that he could see her arousal. She had never been uncomfortable being naked in front of Greg before, but tonight was different. She wanted to be fully clothed and as far away from him as possible. The tension between what she wanted and what was happening manifested itself in the form of absolute terror and it was written all across her face.
The Taskmaster threw Amanda’s shirt aside. Now she lay naked before him. He held her arms above her head and he just sat there admiring his prize. She couldn’t bear to look at him. He was The Taskmaster. Before him, she rightly trembled. Her refusal to look him in the eye validated his awesome power.
He increased her discomfort exponentially when he licked from the side of her breasts all the way up to her cheek. Amanda had loved the touch of his tongue on her bare skin so much, but now it just felt disgusting. She wanted more than anything to break free and get away but there was no where to go and no where to save her. The Taskmaster has his precious morsel right where he wants her. There is nothing that anyone can do to stop him now.
“Don’t worry slave... I haven’t forgotten how much you love to be tied spread eagle… I thought that for our first real night together I would start with your favorite… you see how generous I am… hahahahahaha!” The Taskmaster knew that was a phobia of hers. Making her deal with her worst fears is what he lives for. He wants to see that panic grip every fiber of her being and not be able to go anywhere.
He takes both of her arms over to the top right hand corner of the bed forcefully. He is so strong and she is so tiny. He could literally tie her against her will with one hand behind his back. This is what Amanda used to love so much about Greg. Now it was the source of her deepest hatred. He leaned his entire body weight on every part of Amanda, but her left arm that he pinned next to the post of the bed. He just hummed to himself while she screamed. He took his time tying a very tight knot with the leather strap. He didn’t want his poor little slave girl getting loose and spoiling his fun.
“Don’t tie me up like this Greg…. Please don’t do it…. Please you know what it will do to me… you’re fucking scaring me… stop it right now… you’re fucking scaring me… I mean it… this isn’t a fucking joke Greg… Stop it right now… I can’t take this… I promise I’ll do anything… please just stop okay… stop…!” She was being honest. She was broken down to her most basic feelings. The Taskmaster loved to hear her desperate requests. He wasn’t listening though. Not tonight. He had plans for this one.
“Silly little slave girl… I have already shown you what it feels like to know that I inspire such great fear in you!” Just then Amanda became even more aware of the growing inside Greg’s pants. Why did she have to be such a tease? What got into her today? She had never felt like that or like this before in her life. What was it? Deep down Amanda wished that this whole day would just go away.
After The Taskmaster secured all of Amanda’s limbs to the bed, he stepped off to watch her struggle desperately. She was tied perfectly spread eagle to the four corners of their bed. Every muscle was stretched out as tight as possible. She could not move an inch. She grabbed a hold of the leather straps and pulled for all she was worth. The Taskmaster just chuckled to himself. She was going to tire herself out way too fast like that. He didn’t say anything. This was going to be a night of lessons and he figured that he could just add that one to the list. He stripped off his shirt pants and underwear. He wanted to feel the cool air of the room kiss every inch of his skin while he consummated his utter dominance with his helpless bride. She looked so beautiful and so defenseless. As he was undressing the soundtrack of her unbridled emotions was delicious. It hade his manhood throb with excitement.
“Why are you doing this to me Greg…? I am sorry… I swear to God I’m sorry… Just tell me what I did… whatever it is I promise that I am sorry… I will never do it again… please I am sorry… please just let me go… Just FUCKING LET ME GOOO PLEASE…” Amanda’s demented pleas descended into hysterical screaming rather quickly. It made the demon before her pulse with excitement. He crawled onto the bed next to her wearing his mock Greg facade…
“Don’t worry sweetie… I know how tough this is for you… I understand…” He kissed her lightly on the forehead…
“Does that mean that you are going to let me go baby?” Amanda looked up at him with all the hope in the world.
“No… it just means that I am not going to make you watch me destroy every nerve in your body… SWEEETHEART hahahahahahaha!” Amanda swore that The Taskmaster’s demented laughter was the worst part. He waited for just this moment to put the blindfold over her eyes. Now she couldn’t even see the horrible things that he was planning to do to her. The uncertainty only added to the anticipation. The blindfold was only on for a few second before it was lightly dampened with the first of what would prove to be many tears of fear, anxiety, despair, and…
PART IV
Why now? That was the biggest question in Amanda’s mind as The Taskmaster let his fingertips caress her torso and build the anticipation. Her body reacted with gooseflesh all over her body. The strange touch was worse than it had ever been. Why did he have to take her like this now? She was already in the throes of deep arousal. Her clit was still stiff and moist, her luscious nipples were standing at attention, and her nerves were at full alert.
This would be the time when Amanda would be the most ticklish and it terrified her more than anything. Just the thought of Greg’s hands tickling her under arms or her ribcage sent chills of fear down her spine. Amanda gritted her teeth. She knew what was coming. She also knew that the man on top of her was a maniac. He was not going to stop. She knew that her only hope was that in his lust he would take her and cease with his tickle torture. To hope for such a gruesome scenario might not really be hope at all…
She could not see him but she could feel him straddle her torso. This was it. She knew that she would not be able to appeal to his ideas of mercy (if he had any). She also knew that it would not prevent her from crying out in ticklish agony and begging in her futility with every molecule of air that she was able to force into her lungs between bouts of hysterical laughter forced by demonic tickling.
The Taskmaster was hushed. He was savoring the moment of the ticklish beauty beneath him. She looked so perfectly spread and open. He could do anything that he wanted to her perfect body and he planned to FULLY indulge himself. He took the time to notice how her pert breasts rose and fell as her lungs filled and emptied. He noticed how her hair was spread under her, framing her beautiful face like the goddess he knew she was. He took the time to realize how shallow her breathing was as a lump of pure dread must be caught in her throat. She looked so inviting. There was just one thing missing.
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahaha Ohhhhhhhhhhh goddddddddddddd ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahahahahahaha” Her screams of laughter and desperate thrashing were the final touch to his quivering masterpiece. The Taskmaster dug his fingers into the very centers of her twitching hollows. He knew that this was one of her worst spots. He just looked down on her going out of her mind and laughed to himself. He was so sadistic. He felt the throbbing between his legs increase with every shred of laughter that he was forcing from his blushing bride.
“Tell me I am not allowed to tickle you today slave girl… Tell your master what he is and is not allowed to do…” He was going to make her suffer for every second that he suffered and then some.
“Hhahahahahahahahahahahhahaha I’m sorry Ohhhhhh god I’m Sorrrrrrry ahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!” She would have said anything to get him to stop his evil tickling.
“Not as sorry as you are going to be Pet… I am going to make you suffer even more than I suffered… this is what happens to naughty little slaves who tease their master…!” With that the tickling paused.
Amanda breathed in a sigh of relief at her respite. She could feel the burn of The Taskmaster’s evil leer and the tips of his fingertips teasing her forearms. The sensation was not enough to tickle but just enough to be uncomfortable…
“How do you like to be teased pet… Is it fun…?” The Taskmaster coyly toyed with his *ticklish* prey.
“You said that you liked it… I’m sorry I will never do it again… I swear I swear I swear…!” Amanda couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She knew that she was pushing Greg to something she didn’t know it was this.
“You can’t help it… it’s who you are pet… It’s my fault really… I left your DISCIPLINE in the hands of another… That will never happen again… That I can promise you…!” The tone of The Taskmaster’s comments frightened poor Amanda to no end. Who was this ‘another’?
“But bwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha stop stop stop!” Amanda was done for. Mid sentence The Taskmaster had darted his hands back to her waiting hollows and dug in for another tickle attack. There was no playing around in the way that his fingers slivered over her sensitive hollows. His intention was to extract every last bit of ticklish electricity that the spot could produce. He wanted to make his poor little girl scream tonight, and scream she would. There was nothing that could stop him. That message just kept pinging through Amanda’s mind. The Taskmaster only grinned evilly and laughed at her horrific plight. He loved the fact that he was causing such terrible reactions from his poor desperate slave girl. He wanted to make her scream and beg for mercy the entire night until she passed out from exhaustion. He wanted all of her. He didn’t want her to be able to hold back any of her sweet suffering from him any longer.
Begging was a constant for Amanda. There was nothing she could do but beg in futility. She would curse him, she would curse herself, and she would plead with him to stop and nothing. He was as cold as ice. If possible, his frigid stoic demeanor added to her desperate panic. Her underarms were unbearably ticklish and he knew that. He was using her worst fears against her to break her into a quivering giggling mass. She feared that before it was over she would go quite mad. Hopefully, she would not be driven as far as her demented husband that was taking such delight in viciously tormenting her.
The tickling felt so different. There was nothing flirtatious about it. Every touch of her skin was exploited for maximum effectiveness. There was little teasing. Any subtle caress was just to wake up the delicate nerve endings that were to be consumed in ticklish agony next. The only breaks that Amanda received were to replenish the air in her lungs so that she would not loose the ability to laugh, beg, and scream at the top of her straining lungs.
Amanda adopted the idea to process every move that this new Greg was making through a very sadistic prism. Everything he did was designed to make her suffer and take control away from her. She hated every fiber of his being for taking so much pleasure in her utter suffering. Part of her missed the old Greg that was gentle in her fantasy. The other part of her hated him as well because he gave genesis to the sinister torture demon before her now. When old Greg used to tickle her, she at least felt like they were enjoying something together, no matter how bad it got. Right now her desperate feeling of isolation was driving her completely mad.
The waves of shame were unbearable. She had been taken in a weakened state. She was abducted like this while she was already aroused almost to the point of climax. She hated herself for not being able to silence these fires deep down within her. She did not experience the euphoria associated with arousal but she could tell that her womanhood was still quite moist and that her nipples were still very rigid. She hated her body for betraying her in this time of need. It was not responding to her conscious pleas for it to quite its subtle burning. It had been programmed to be aroused by tickling and that was only making it worse. It is hard to fully hate something when the body you inhabit is sexually excited by it. The duality of her situation plagued Amanda to no end.
This is the battle that The Taskmaster was really waging. He knew that he could make her afraid, he knew that he could make her scream, the challenge was to make her HIS. He had accomplished the task of slaying her owner, but could he direct those unconscious fires to himself and enslave her to him for all her life? That is the question he would take great joy in answering.
When the taskmaster tired of the underarm tickling, he let his hands skitter all over Amanda’s ticklish torso. He wanted his slave girl to be as absolutely uncomfortable as inhumanly possible. He wanted to see every muscle in her tight body straining against his diabolical bondage that was given birth in Amanda’s deepest nightmares. There was nothing she could do to protect herself from the maliciously ticklish attack. All that his slave could do was suffer through The Taskmaster’s cruelest treatment.
Amanda’s screaming laughter made her ribcage protrude much to her master’s amusement. She was making it so easy to torment her with her uncontrollable reactions. The actions both inspired his sadistic lust and made it easier for wicked fingers to find deliciously sensitive spots to tease and torment. Moving from one spot to another on her torso was always rewarded with a new sudden wonderful burst of hilarity. The Taskmaster let each note of her musical laughter hit home in his heart and between his strong thighs as he played his instrument with a musician’s precision. Not one spot on her torso went un-touched. There was not one ticklish hot zone that went unexploited.
The Taskmaster paused his merciless tickling for a session in sheer humiliation. “Tell me that I am not allowed to tie you up today pet… Tell me that you can’t take it…”
“Please Greg… I am sorry… I didn’t mean to tease you so bad… oh god please stop honey… please master I can’t take this tickling… I am so scared… please… let me go... I can’t stand to be tied like this…. Please don’t tickle me anymore…!” Amanda was far past her wits end.
“I make the rules… or have you forgotten…!” With that The Taskmaster brushed two makeup brushes over the exposed breasts rising and falling before him. His brushing was light and cruel. He wanted to expose his little slave girl as the naughty little tickle-slut that she really was deep down.
Amanda took a sharp breath and tried to hold it for as long as possible. It tickled like crazy, but being tickled on her excited breasts in the midst of her torture was far too conflicting. Her emotions negated the natural response, and the sensation was different and somehow amplified. Usually, when Amanda’s breasts are tickled this way it is nearly orgasmic (actually volcanic on occasion). Today the feeling was still arousing but it also had a much sharper ticklish edge to it. She knew that she would giggle and laugh. That was not the point. She could not give her demented tormentor the satisfaction of hearing her moan. She hated herself. How could her body enjoy itself when she was in the midst of such turmoil? She held her breath for as long as she could.
“Awwwwwww, I think somebody likes it… Is my ticklish little slave girl a naughty little tickle slut? … Come on pet... You can tell me!” The Taskmaster had moved to circling her puffy areolas. This was maddening. No matter how afraid Amanda was, she could not stop the simple physics of her body. In response to the cruel touch, her nipples pulsd and she was embarrassed. She felt the waves of shame crashing over her body. The strangest part is that the waves were landing on the beach of her swollen clit. She hated the fact that her body reacted this way to being tickled ruthlessly. The thought of this evil man forcing pleasure from her was terrible. She began to sob into her blindfold as the weight of her plight came crashing through her temples. She was utterly helpless to top him.
“I don’t think that you are being honest with me pet… I can see you poking up at me… tell me how much of a little tickle slut you are…!” With that The Taskmaster lightly trailed the make up brushes over her aching nipples. Amanda lost it. She couldn’t hold her breath any longer. She let out a deep moan followed by her familiar stream of desperate giggles.
“MMMMMMMMMMMMM hahahahahahaahahahahaha stop Greg… Stop hmmmmmmm ahahahahahahaahahaha not like this please… I can’t take it…. Not like this hmmmmmmm hahahahahahaha” The shame of her body’s arousal in her greatest despair was too much to handle.
Amanda was swimming in sensation that she hated. She was tied against her will. She was stretched out in a position that she had forbidden her husband to tie her in and he was forcing her to endure pleasure. This was cruel. Amanda felt so alone. She was so helpless. She was being called a tickle slut and truth be told how could she refute it.
Even now with fear and panic coursing through her veins the first reaction to being tickled on her breasts is to moan audibly and her nipples stand at attention. She felt as though she was two feet tall. She hated Greg for making her feel this way. She never thought that someone as sweet as him would do such a terrible thing to her. She trusted him more than anyone in the world. Even with the tickling sensations, the torture of her nipples, and the fear of being tied spread eagle on the bed; nothing compared to the death of that trust.
“Okay… I guess that the proverbial cat has got your tongue… I guess that my little slave girl isn’t ready to admit that she is just a little tickle slut yet… no matter… Gosh… Try and give a girl a break…” The Taskmaster resumes his mindless torment of her upper body again. He relishes in the renewed conflict that washed across her face. He knew that part of her wished she had just admitted to him what tickling does to her. She had been so open and so honest with his mask but she was hiding from him. The jealousy inside him knew no bounds and he was determined to make her sorry for being so attached to his disguise.
“Tell me that I can’t tickle your feet today pet… tell me that I am not ALLOWED…” The look of pure gratification in his omnipotence over his Wife was plastered all over The Taskmaster’s face. His Wife’s hair was also plastered all over her face from the violent shaking of her head back and forth in a futile attempt to deal with the ticklish sensations that wee shooting through her entire body.
Amanda was screaming at the top of her lungs. She hated being reminded of her behavior earlier. She couldn’t take being punished in this way. It was too much. This was her worst fear being brought screaming into the front of her brain at 100 mph with no warning. The terror was pulsing even in her fingertips as she just struggled and struggled against her tight stringent bondage. She couldn’t even use her hazel eyes to plead with Greg. Usually that would at least buy her a break. Through her blindfold she could just take in the salty air of her own tears and resign herself to the malicious feelings coursing through every fiber of her being with every beat of Greg’s fingertips against her ribcage. No matter how much she begged, not matter how much she pleaded, the tickling did not stop. Her lungs ached. Her mouth was becoming sore from being so wide open for so long. Unfortunately for our heroine, these familiar sensations while causing her an emotional breakdown were about to cause her smoldering womanhood a volcanic meltdown…
The Taskmaster paused the tickling to crawl beside his Wife on the bed. He could here her quiet whimpering and it thrilled every part of him. He licked her cheek to rudely announce his presence next to her and all she could do was cringe in disdain. She didn’t want any part of him touching her right now.
Amanda missed her husband dearly. She feared this new demonic torturous apparition with fire of a thousand suns. As she sobbed lightly behind her blindfold, her only hope in the world was that Greg would find her and rescue her. She would have been crushed to know that the monsters skin dies once it is shed… She was in no condition to handle such a tragedy right now. The Taskmaster thought it best to save that tidbit for later.
“Tell me that I can’t nibble your feet pet… tell me that you can’t take it… tell me to wait until the morning…!” Greg kept licking her cheek. He loved the way she recoiled so desperately. She was clinching the leather straps with her fists so tight. She hated every inch of his rough tongue as it caressed her cheek…
“Greg… I promise… I will never torture you like that again… I am so sorry…. I will let you do whatever you want to me whenever you want to me from now on… please just let me go…!” Her words were heartfelt. She was sorry. She was so sorry. She even felt bad for the things that she did to the imaginary Greg in her fantasy. She regretted abusing his genuine affections. She was sorry that he was gone and that this version of him had taken her hostage… She wished more than anything that he would come back if even for a second…
“Anything I want?”
“Yesss yesss oh god yesss Greg… I will be your little slave girl I promise.” Greg brushed her sweaty hair and he kissed her deeply. All the emotion that she was feeling was transferred to him. Amanda felt every nerve in her body lift in excitement. It was the man she loved. He had come back to save her. She was so happy. The tears of joy streamed down her face. The first actual feelings of euphoria leaked into her brain from her burning desire between her thighs…
“You know what I want you to do for me more than anything sweet heart…?” Greg rubbed himself into Amanda’s waiting thigh as a signal of his intentions.
“Anything dear… anything that you ask…!” Amanda was so happy at this very moment she couldn’t contain her enraptured smile….
“I want to watch you suffer sweetheart. That is what I want more than anything in the world… I want to watch you scared out of your fucking mind and suffering for your master… you said anything… you wouldn’t lie to me would you sweetie?” The kiss on Amanda’s forehead burned like his lips were poisoned with acid. The Taskmaster wished that he could see the look in her eyes as any hope of her rescuers return was painfully stripped from her cerebrum. The only reason he didn’t take off the blindfold to see the life drain from her eyes is because he knew that not being able to see him was a terrible strain on his slave girl’s sanity… After all, business before pleasure… hahahaha.
Amanda could do nothing but just start crying openly. She had no hope. She was naked, emotionally naked and this evil creature before her could do anything to her and maker her feel anything that he wanted. She hated him for how much he could reminded her of her lost love.
“Awwwwwwww, you look sad honey…” The Taskmaster lightly trailed the backs of two knobby hair brushes down her open thighs to her quivering feet… “Don’t you worry…! Master has ways of cheering you up…” As his evil words hit home, the Taskmaster’s demonic grin just grew wider and wider.
Before Amanda could respond to the news that her feet were most certainly doomed, The Taskmaster just started raking the soles of her feet up and down with the balls of the hairbrushes. Amanda’s feet began wiggling, squirming, and writhing at a frantic pace. Like the true master he was, The Taskmaster never lost touch with her quivering soles. They were still buttery soft from the sand, the pumice, and the bliss socks. There was no way that she could take having them scrubbed like this. It was maddening.
Like all other sensations, the ticklish sensations on the base of Amanda’s feet were slightly altered by her genuine desperation. It had a fiery quality that threatened to consume all of her. The Taskmaster would stop and start his cruel raking spontaneously. Amanda never knew when he was going to tickle her or when he was going to stop. This was in part to drive her insane, and also to keep her from the vast ocean of silent laughter. The Taskmaster needed no reassurance that she was completely his to toy with. He knew that he could push her there any time. Right now he just wanted to let the throbbing between his legs be massaged by his pet’s desperate laughter and her never ending futile screams for a mercy that would never come.
“From now on these are my feet slave… I can do with them whatever I wish… they do not belong to you anymore they belong to me… do you understand…?”
“Yes yes oh God yesssssss ahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahah please stop hahahahahahah aha please *pant pant* ahhahahahahahhaha stop…” Amanda was desperate. The tickling was maddening. She couldn’t even make out familiarity with her plight. She knew that it *tickled* but these wild sensations she was feeling were all together new to her. For some reason the only centers on her body that were processing with any familiarity were her aching nipples and her swelling clitoris. Even then she felt strangely detached from her arousal… It was almost as if it was someone else’s…
As usual her pleas for mercy went unanswered. Her plight continued for what felt like years. The balls of the hairbrushes on the soles of her feet were truly torture. She hated every second of it. The blindfold was now soaked with her salty desperation from her server plight. After 20 minutes of sustained torment, The Taskmaster finally relented to let his pet breathe…
Amanda could hear him get up and leave the room. His absence let her imagination run wild. She wondered what evils he had in store for her now. He was probably going to get a feather duster, an electric toothbrush, or worse. Greg was not big on extravagant tools but when he got really mad at her he would make exceptions. Not knowing what would be coming was the most terrible part. Her mind filled with all kinds of sick ideas. She was terrified of what he was going to do when he got back.
What happened next was the key to Amanda’s downfall. She might have survived her encounter in one piece had she not fallen victim to this. How could she be so blind…?
She heard Greg come back into the room. She held her breath. Part of her foolishly hoped that he would forget she was there. She heard him walking around the room. She heard him pick something up and scoot it beside her head. She assumed it to be a chair. She heard him sit down and something opened. She hated that sound. It might be pipe cleaners, it might be a toothbrush of some kind, and it could be anything. Whatever it was she was going to have to sit there and endure it. She wasn’t going anywhere.
“I have something for you pet… I promise that you will find it quite DELICIOUS…” Amanda hated the way he said that word. It set her mind ablaze with even new levels of horror and dread. Sadists usually have a way of making very ironic use of adjectives.
Amanda opened her mouth to protest and The Taskmaster acted quickly seizing the opportunity. What Amanda felt completely destroyed any sense of self that was remaining. She had never felt anything in the world sweeter than the strawberry yogurt that was now on her tongue. The emotions that were swirling in her head before were bombarded with even more erratic messages of confusion. Kindness… How?
Greg fed his beautiful wife slowly. He knew that she was in a very excited state. He didn’t want her to do herself any damage. He loved her… he would never hurt her. When she finished her yogurt he slowly poured water into her parched mouth. Amanda didn’t know how to react. Such cruelty accentuated by kindness. How?
Greg lovingly kissed her on her neck and his lips found hers. Amanda was so hungered for his comforting touch that she probed his mouth with her tongue like she never had before. The remnants of her desert made the kiss all the sweeter for Greg. He let his hands run through her hair and massage her scalp. Amanda strained in her bondage not to get away from him but to wrap her arms around him. In this one moment she could pretend that all was not lost… In this BRIEF moment!
“MMMMM I thought that I had lost you for a second…” Amanda was lost in a sea of emotions. Just the act of feeding her and letting her have water was beyond the projected capacity that she had for her captor.
“You’ll never loose me sweet heart. I have always been by your side… I will always be there… and now I am stronger… I don’t have to hide anymore…” The Taskmaster’s words hit home with Amanda. She was left with him. The imaginary man was gone.
“I’m so sorry master… I was so bad today… please… I am so sorry… just let me go please…!” Part of Amanda was resigned to her fate. Part of her was still lost in that last kiss. She knew that there would be no mercy. She was at the hands of her Taskmaster and he was going to teach her a thorough lesson in humility.
“You’re right you were bad today… Tell me again that I am not allowed to nibble your toes…!” The Taskmaster got up and walked deliberately to the foot of the bed.
“You can always nibble and suckle my, I mean your toes master. They are for you, they are all for you… I do everything to keep them soft all for you… please don’t torture them?” Amanda was desperate. The fleeting positive energy from The Taskmaster’s lone act of kindness was rapidly leaving her mind as he brought his warm lips to her toes on her right foot.
“I’m glad you see it that way pet… I am just going to remind you of that a little…” As she heard the sinister tone of The Taskmaster’s remarks, Amanda’s fears returned to her full force. This Greg could not be distracted no matter how much she begged or pleaded. He stopped and started only because he wanted to. The thought of his merciless teeth on her tied feet made her cringe inside. She only hoped that he would tire of the tickling after a while and focused on tending to his mounting arousal… could this really be hope?
The Taskmaster started gently nibbling on the toes of his slave girl. He wanted her to think about the gentle and then maddening teasing that she had put him through all day long. He wanted the anticipation to build sweetly before he rewarded himself with her mirthful screams of desperation again. The Taskmaster massaged her left foot so sweetly that it almost took her mind of the impending doom of her poor toes on her right foot… almost. There was nothing that could prepare her for the ever increasing pressure from her master’s evil teeth. This evil creature had all of Greg’s knowledge of her body but absolutely none of his genuine loving compassion. She felt so guilty for what she had done to her Husband. He protected her from this monster so diligently, and she only rewarded him with her cruelty. She deserved to be punished, she didn’t question that. But who deserved this?
The Taskmaster took in her gentle giggles as yet another symbol of is unlimited power. He decided when she laughed, begged, screamed, thrashed, or anything else that he wished to make her do. He did it all just to see the panic of loosing all self control coursing through her veins replacing the icy cold blood that teased him so mercilessly earlier.
When he felt that she was relaxed with the gentle nibbling, The Taskmaster went in for the kill. He began grazing his teeth over the pads of her toes as his left hand held her squirming foot in place while it took its well earned punishment. There was nothing that Amanda could do but scream at the top of her lungs. The Taskmaster knew exactly what his teeth would do to her *ticklish* little pampered pink toes. He wanted her to suffer for having such delicious digits that dance seductively through his dreams so frequently. He wanted to punish her for always teasing him with such sexy shoes and putting her feet on open display. Now he was in control of HIS feet. They are his and he is going to make her damn well understand that.
His right hand was not lost on the quivering sole of his wife’s left foot. It would not do to leave a single inch of his pet untouched on this their first voyage together all alone. She had to be thoroughly convinced of his unbridled ruthlessness. He had to admit that he thought he was doing a good job so far. He made sure that the foot he was not suckling still writhed madly in ultra-ticklish abandon.
“Ohhhhhh please master please hahahahahahahahahahahahahasha stop tickling your feet, ahahahahahahahahahahaha please stop nibbling your toes ahaheheheahehehehehe!” To be honest, The Taskmaster didn’t know if this was genuine progress or just a physical manifestation of Amanda’s desperation. He postulated that it was probably a strange combination of both. At least on a subconscious level she was beginning to understand that she was his and his alone. There would be no cowardly knight in shinning armor to silence his sadistic urges tonight. She was going to lie before him and take all the punishment that she richly deserved for abusing his affections so coldly.
The Taskmaster did feel as though he had an obligation to honor part of her request. He stopped nibbling her toes. After all, he didn’t want to deny the rest of her supple buttery ticklish feet the cruelty of his evil mouths affection. He bent her toes back with his strong left hand and hungrily devoured the entirety of her pink quivering sole. His rough tongue was the perfect ambassador for his ravaging teeth. He paid special attention to her wrinkled arch and slim instep. Her most sensitive areas received the most of her master’s affections because they so diligently produced the panicked hysteria that he craved so deeply.
Amanda’s pleas for the demented foot nibbling to end would go tragically unanswered. She regretted that she let Greg’s silent pleas to be able to fully devour her feet had gone unanswered. Maybe she would not be where she is now, or maybe that was just inevitable?
The Taskmaster was very even handed in his justice. He made sure that both of Amanda’s tender soles were thoroughly loved, suckled and of course nibbled before he was finished. His poor wife was a shell of his former self and he loved it. She had to learn the strict penalties for tormenting him in the least degree. All of her would be available to him at all times. This was a painful lesson to teach, but somehow The Taskmaster thought that he would get over his emotional turmoil…
Finally, after close to an hour of her master’s demonic indulgence Amanda’s poor feet were finally given a rest. Her chest heaved up and down trying as she might to suck in much needed air. She didn’t even really need to be bound at this point. Her resolve had been taken from her and the muscles in her body would be useless against a girl of her own size; let alone, the massive tormentor that stood before her. Amanda’s shame was multiplied when she felt the wetness streaming down her thighs.
Amanda was lost in her own world of emotional sorrow detached from everything her body was feeling except for the dreaded tickling that would haunt her nightmarish dreams for the rest of her very life. She didn’t even notice the urgency that was brewing between her legs. Her clit was almost painfully throbbing to no end and she couldn’t understand why. She had few if any emotional feelings of arousal. It was undeniable that her body was responding to the torment in a very inverse and perverse fashion but it felt strangely as though it was not her body…
“Awww, it looks like my little tickle slut is enjoying our first date…” Amanda was a good housewife and mother of two children. How could he call her such a thing? She hated the fact that her thighs offered empirical evidence in the affirmative. The way he said ‘first’ made her even more unsettled than being called a ‘tickle slut’. The way he talked of firsts made her think for a moment that beyond his obvious anger over the days events that maybe her husband really had gone crazy, or maybe he really was gone.
“No master…. I can’t take it… please… let me go please… I will be better tomorrow I promise promise… please let me go… it’s too much right now…” Amanda couldn’t stand the idea of being forced to endure pleasure right now. For some strange reason that she could not understand she began at that moment to feel as though she was being watched. It felt so strange.
“Awwwww I think that someone’s lying…” With that Greg traced his fingers over her glistening lips and touched her throbbing clit lightly… It was the strangest surprise that Amanda felt yet. She didn’t feel anything between her legs. She was aware that he touched her in her most private of places but she did not feel it. She only felt the earth shattering quiver that went through her body and the deep earthy moan that went through her body.
“Seeee, my naughty little tickle slut is a liar… I have friends to deal with liars…” Amanda didn’t know how to process that statement. The feeling of being watched distracted her from the obvious connotation. She foolishly feared that there was someone else in the room with her. If only there was? Maybe someone could stop Greg from the unthinkable torture to come?
“I have my lobster claws to deal with liars pet…!” Amanda needed no more explanation.
“Ohhhhh god no, please Greg don’t not that… don’t touch my legs… please don’t touch my fucking legs, not my leggs… please not my leggs…. Oh god not my legs Greg… please please pleas.e. I’ll be good I promise… I promise…” This was even sweeter than The Taskmaster imagined.
“Oh honey, but my lobster claws are hungry.” Greg brought his fingers to her already tingly thighs. She felt the ticklish jolts of electricity shoot right through her entire body. It started on her quadriceps muscle and then rammed right through her clit and breasts. The feeling was horrible. Amanda had never felt anything like it. She was screaming at the top of her lungs and begging for Greg to stop. She couldn’t move her legs one inch tied as tightly as they were. There was only the flexing and relaxing of her muscles. That did nothing to actually alleviate the ticklish sensations, but it was the only mock defense that her defeated body could make against the thoroughly horrid tickling.
The Taskmaster was incessant about the verbal teasing about the lobster claws punishing her for lying about enjoying her torment. It wasn’t a lie, she hated it. It was the most terrifying thing that she had ever been put through. Her body was just not cooperating. The unfairness of holding that against her just sent her deeper and deeper into the bottomless pit of despair.
“Please ahehahehaehaheahehahe aehehahehaeh Please ahheahahehaehahehaheh not the claws ahahahahahahahahahahahahahaahhahahaahahahahah please ahahaheahehahehaeha not the thighs ahahehaehahehaehaheahahaahe” Every one of her pleas that went unanswered just served to strip away any irrational hope that The Taskmaster would ever stop his merciless torture.
“Okay, okay. Your wish is my command sweetie…” The Taskmaster stopped his tickling immediately and sat back to admire his very ticklish prize.
“Thank you master… thank you so much… thank you…” This was the first time in their relationship that she thought her master actually listened to her begging… thought!
“My claws wanted to move to your knees anyway… hahaha” The Taskmaster said it so playfully. He acted as though having her knees tickled in this bondage position was not a recurring nightmare for his ticklish wife. The irony of his comment actually made Amanda laugh through the involuntary thrashing. That made her nervous. He could have her reactions, but this new monster before her did not deserve her happiness. That was something that she reserved for the man that she married wherever he was. She felt terrible for sharing their inside tickle joke with this demented stranger.
Still, The Taskmaster kept up the diabolical playful teasing. All the while he was tickle torturing her hyper-sensitive knees without mercy. Amanda begged and begged and begged for him to stop whenever she had the air not allocated to her desperate uncontrolled laugher and howling, but the pleas were only received with more evil teasing. It made her sick to her stomach how much Greg was enjoying this. He was having the time of two lifetimes causing her the most desperate discomfort that she had ever experienced in her life. He was gaining a sadistic thrill every time that she shamelessly begged for his mercy. It made her sick to her stomach that she had been reduced to calling him master. It was bad enough that he was forcing her to endure this mindless tickling, but to have to break down and address him with such a title was the last thing that Amanda wanted on her conscious. Still, if there was anything that she could do to stop the mindless kneading of her knees then she would gladly do it…
The Taskmaster was focused. He saw every fiber and every tendon flex in her ultra sensitive legs. He saw every weak point become exposed. He saw every muscle contract and expand in a cruel dance that he was forcing them to conduct. He was listening to his wife’s screaming and laughing not just for enjoyment but for precision. He was mapping out every ticklish centimeter of her warm sensitive quivering flesh. He wanted to make sure that he did not leave one shred of her sanity in tact, because he missed something. He wanted to make sure that ever dimple in every muscle was tormented to the maximum amount. It still amazed him that the zone from his Wife’s delicate womanhood to the tips of her knees would hold the key to her most violent ticklish reactions. He was in no mood to question the arbitrary location of her greatest weakness. He just wanted to mercilessly exploit it to his sadistic hearts content.
Looking down on her as he ruthlessly tickled her knees to no end she was a mess. Her hair was again matted to her face. Her arms and legs were straining as much as possible to move even one inch against his cruel bondage but Amanda was held fast. He increased the pressure on her thighs and knees to force her mercifully into silent laughter. Amanda no longer had to worry about sucking in air to beg, for there was literally no hope of it. This was the time that The Taskmaster had waited for. She was finally unable to muster anything to express how terrible the sensations were that he was fiendishly perpetrating against her. He could only look at the expression of sheer anguish behind her tear soaked blindfold. He tried to imagine how much this must be torturing her to her very core. He knew that she could not take one more second of it and he kept up his cruel massage of her sensitive legs until he had the fill of her silent laughter mixed with desperate inhaling breaths only to be sucked into the abyss of silence again as his cruel hands found new points of hilarity on her warm quivering thighs.
When The Taskmaster was through with Amanda’s legs she was almost through with the world of the living. She had almost slipped into the warm bath of the unconscious… almost.
“Huhhhhhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh is uhhhhhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhhhhhhh uhhhhhhhh it uhhhhhhhhhhhhh uhuuhhhhhhhhhhhuhuuu over?” Amanda could only speak in between desperate gasps for air. She felt Greg sit back down next to her head.
“You earned it…” Amanda thought for a brief second that Greg was talking about her release, but then she felt that he was motioning for her to take another drink. She was disappointed that she was still tied, but she took the small act of kindness for what it was. Greg put the bottle of Gatorade to her lips. She drank thirstily. She could feel the energy rushing through her body with every fruit punch drop that flowed through her heaving tummy. As she finished her refreshment a chilling idea swept through her. Greg didn’t do that for her… he did it so that she would last through more of his sadistic tickle torture. The depths of his diabolical sadism began to terrify new parts of Amanda’s psyche. This Greg’s calculation was eerily demonic.
“Awwwwee… my little girl was thirsty wasn’t she…? Now pet, we have to have a discussion about something. You see I am not blind. I know that you are a naughty little tickle slut… I want to hear you admit it…” Victory already in hand, The Taskmaster never missed a chance to rub it in.
In addition to perspiration Amanda’s legs were glistening with the sheen of her womanhood’s desperate throbbing arousal. She hated Greg for doing this while she was so desperately aroused. She began to think that the whole romantic scene on the couch was just to weaken her for his sinister plans.
She just shook her head from side to side in response to his lewd insinuation. Amanda would deny that at all costs.
(bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz)
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh Godddddddddddddddddddd!” Amanda was horrified. She knew that Greg was maliciously fingering her new electric toy. She couldn’t contemplate what it would do to her swollen overly-sensitive clit right now.
“Ohhhh I assure you sweet heart, he cannot help you right now. We’re all alone, and you are all mine pet. I will make you admit it to me slave… Your arousal is mine, your pleasure is mine, even your fear is mine... You are all mine pet…!” The Taskmaster brought the powerful vibrator to her swollen clitoris and her throbbing moist lips. She let out a cry from the very core of the earth when the vibrator on high was pressed to her moist firm nubbin.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh” was all that poor Amanda could manage. She has been pushed far beyond the capacity for rational thought. Any reasoning capacity she had was being spent trying to understand why even though she was aware of the feelings smoldering between her legs, she was painfully not feeling them. She was aware that Greg was vibrating her. She was aware that her clit was being pushed closer and closer to the edge of explosion. She was aware that the pressure was building in her lower body. She was aware of all this but she did not feel the warm tingles of the vibrator or the euphoric shivers through her body. It was as if she was just trapped in a world of torment and could not even experience the pleasure associated with her merciless external torture…
“Say it… or you know what I will do…!” The Taskmaster was ruthless. He knew that she had been on the verge of having a devastating orgasm for the past few hours. He knew that she was so close. He wanted his prize. He wanted his greatest victory. He wanted ownership of the most beautiful woman in the world for the rest of his life and access to her delicious screams no matter what. “Say it slave…!”
Amanda’s mind was absolute mush. She was aware of the sensation building deep inside her but was unable to experience it. The only part of it left for her was the desperation to answer her most dreaded question. She knew that whoever was enjoying these sensations was leaving her with the left over task of begging for them. She could swear that whoever was watching her was giggling at her plight.
“Ohhhhhhhhhh I’m your little tickle sluttttt hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!” Amanda was broken. The last fig leaf had been taken from her. She was his to do with as he pleased. The sad part is that she feared she would not even be able to enjoy the fruits of her destruction in her altered state of consciousness.
“I can’t hear you pet… you had better scream it…!”
“Immmmmm yourrrrrrrrrr litttttllllle tickllllllllllllle Slutttttttttttttttttt hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm please masteeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer let me cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuum?” This was exactly what The Taskmaster wanted. He knew that she was just bending to her body’s desires but on some level he knew that she was beginning to understand her place in the world. She only needed one subtle reminder…
“No.” With that Greg kissed her on the forehead and turned off the vibrator. He laid it calmly on the dresser. “That’s what you get for being such a tease sweetie…!”
Amanda’s whimpering became perfuse. She couldn’t believe it. The denial of any form of enjoyment that she craved more than anything in the world was too terrible to deal with. She felt guiltier and guiltier for what she had done to Greg by purposely taunting him about not being able to tickle her earlier. She knew exactly how she felt. Strangely, in the back of her head, Amanda was aware that whatever part of her was on the verge of climax was thrilled at Greg’s revelation of her continued frustration. What was happening to her…?
The thought was only put out of her head by the loosening of her leather straps. She was finally being let go. She felt so relieved. She let the tears of joy join the countless tears of sorrow in her soaked blindfold.
“Thank you master... thank you…!” Amanda was so genuinely appreciative. The yogurt and the drink of water had started a twisted form of endearment to this powerful stranger. She was genuinely happy when she was untied from her stringent bondage. She curled up into a tight ball in her husband’s warm strong arms when she was finally free. She was still sobbing in joy and confusion over the sea of emotions that were swimming behind her eyes. She didn’t even bother to take off the blindfold. She just wanted to be close to her husband once again. For some reason his strong arms felt even safer after her ordeal.
“You did so well pet… your punishment is over… did you enjoy it?” That question made Amanda even more uncomfortable. Her only response was to pull Greg closer to her on the bed and crawl deeper into his embrace. “Now it’s time for my pleasure sweetie. We tried your favorite position now it’s time for mine!” Amanda’s heart froze at the realization that her ordeal was not over. She couldn’t bear to look at The Taskmaster. “I’ve been thinking about having you all spread out face down all day pet… I think that you are really going to enjoy it…!”
The Taskmaster is a true sadist. The only thing that scared Amanda more than being spread eagle was being spread eagle face down. She couldn’t bear to speak. She just stained his bare chest with her salty tears. She started hitting him in the chest weekly. She started kicking her legs at him. She knew that she couldn’t get away, but she had to let him know how terrible and evil he was for doing this to her. She had never allowed Greg to do this before. The backs of her legs were too sensitive. They had been off limits since they were married and this position was a curse word in Amanda’s mind. Today was a day of many rule changes in the relationship of Greg and Amy.
Amanda’s desperate kicking and fisting only served to make the sadistic urges deep within Greg burn hotter and hotter. “Don’t worry pet... I am going to give those sexy legs the attention that they deserve no matter how much you SCREAM!”
The Taskmaster loved to make Amanda terrified. This is what Amanda had come to realize. She also realized that her demented captor was very good at it. She was horrified. She couldn’t even take this from Greg; this evil monster would leave her in a heap with her legs splayed before him. Between that realization and the denial of her climax Amanda just reached a new level of hopelessness. This creature before her was a demon. He was going to drag her kicking and screaming over the vast depths of ticklish hell. No matter how much she screamed for a mercy beyond her grasp, only he controlled the dark demented evil that would be coursing through the backs of her legs within minutes.
“Oh please master not this… you know that I can’t take this… please don’t do this to me master ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” In the midst of her screaming The Taskmaster pushed her down on her face and pinned her to the bed. She tried her best to fight him but in her weakened state she was just a limp noodle. She kept kicking her legs as much as possible and beating her hands into the mattress but her efforts were futile. Greg was so big and so strong. She hated that fact with all that she was.
Amanda hated the way that he could manhandle her any time that he wanted. She hated the fact that he could render her helpless any time that he wanted. She hated the fact that he was so powerful and loved nothing more than to indulge his insidious fetish for her deepest screams of mercy mixed with her most hysterical peals of laughter coming from the depths of her very soul. As she felt her limbs being secured to the bed in by far her most phobic position she prayed quietly to herself that she would have a soul left when The Taskmaster was done with her.
The feelings of sheer dread coursed through her body. She had feared this day for her entire life. Being tied up against her will and having the backs of her legs free to be teased and tickled at an evil man’s sadistic will. Her legs were spread very far apart so that prying hands could easily invade her bald glistening mound. She felt helpless, utterly helpless. She knew that there was nothing that she could do to stop her evil Taskmaster from indulging his deepest most demonic pleasures on her poor defenseless body.
She could not help but keep sobbing into her blindfold as she felt Greg place a pillow under her svelte tummy and take his place between her spread legs.
“Greg… please… just stop… I can’t take this please… oh god stop just fucking stop please… I am so fucking scarred right now Greg please… you don’t understand how bad this is for me... My legs are way too ticklish for you torture the like this. I can’t move them at all Greg. Please just fucking stop. I’ll be your slave I promise… please just don’t fucking tickle my legs..!” Deep down Amanda knew that her pleas for mercy were going to fall on deaf ears. She just had to do something to let out some of the tension that was brewing inside her. The isolation and the horror of having to face her worst fear alone were too much for her to take. Even if it was only a little, it helped ease the tension inside her for Amanda to scream at the top of her lungs for mercy. The side effect was that this was the very addiction that drove The Taskmaster to his most diabolical deeds. He wanted her to let go. Amanda hated screaming at the top of her lungs only to have her pleas go unanswered. She could hear someone laughing at her and it wasn’t Greg…
Greg removed the blindfold much to Amanda’s dismay. The blindfold hid the horror of being tied the way that she was. Now her vision was not obstructed by an arbitrary piece of cloth. Amanda’s vision was now constricted only by the very position of bondage that terrified all that was inside of her. She was tied with her face in the mattress with her arms and legs spread as wide as they would possibly be stretched. She had never ALLOWED Greg to tie her like this and now the Evil Taskmaster was going to make her pay for teasing him with her bare legs for so many years. Amanda wanted to scream out how sorry she was, but she knew that it would do her no good. She jus saved her breath and gritted her teeth in anticipation of the inhuman treatment that she was now being forced to endure.
She felt Greg’s strong hands lightly caressing the backs of her legs. She feared the massaging of her calves, hamstrings, and the tendons in the backs of her knees more than anything in the entire world. This light feathery tickle was just a tease. He wanted all the nerves in her firm supple legs to be as alert as inhumanly possible so that they would be as unbearably ticklish as he has fantasized about all these long years. Making them forbidden created a sub-fetish within The Taskmaster’s sadistic tickling obsession. He had been locked in the prison of his own mind for the last 12 years, and nothing comforted him except the thought of one day being free again to tease, tantalize, tickle and torture the most sensitive parts of his Wife’s legs.
“Tell me that I am not allowed to tickle the backs of your legs pet…” The Taskmaster wanted to make sure that this had been thought about and calculated long before she was bound before him this night. He knew exactly which gentle curves were going to make her the most desperately hysterical. He absolutely couldn’t wait to exploit them.
“I hate you…!” This was the last part of her. The Taskmaster stripped away all that she was. He owned all of her. The only thing left were her deepest feelings, emotions, and most desperate reactions. He heard her start to sniffle again trying to choke back her salty tears. His heart went out to here…
“Awwwwww honey you are sad again… I can fix THAT!” With that The Taskmasters most diabolical torture began and poor helpless Amanda’s sanity ended. He started massaging the firm backs of her thighs and there was absolutely nothing that she could do to sop him. She was his tickle toy she knew that. Her only role in life was to satisfy his darkest ticklish whims. That heavy reality sank deeper and deeper into her hopeless mind with each electric tweak of her supple hamstrings.
She wished desperately that she could move at least an inch. She was bound so tightly that she was denied the real release of thrashing. This was making the tickling sensations in the backs of her legs even more server. She absolutely could not take it. All she could do was endure the demented tightening and loosening of her hamstring muscle fibers and they did absolutely nothing to quell the electric shocks that were shooting up the backs of Amanda’s thighs. She couldn’t help but realize that in the back of her mind the feelings were slamming harder and harder into her aching clit that had been denied volcanic release so cruelly. Every muscle in her body strained desperately against her Tight bondage.
“Come on little slave girl… tell our master that he is not allowed to tickle your ticklish little calves… come on tell me… You said it so confidently before…!”
Amanda just sucked in all the air that was available to her… “I hate you Greg... I fucking hate you… hahahahahahahahahahahahahhahahahahahahaha I hate you... hahahahahahahahahahahahahahah I hate you….” Greg just let her cries of hate and malice wash through him like a warm bath of erotic lust. This is what he came for. This is what he wanted. He wanted to go beyond the little housewife who liked to play tickle games when the kids were at school. He wanted to get to the darkest depths of Amanda’s helplessly ticklish soul and torment all that she was. He had never had the courage until now to explore this demonic passion to its conclusion.
With her cries of hate spurring him on, The Taskmaster moved to the ever sensitive backs of Amanda’s knees. These delicate tendons were a literal hot bed of ticklish sensation. Amanda could feel them being gently pressed and massaged and the feelings were horrifically excruciating. She could not move her leg one inch tied as tightly as she was. She screamed every obscenity that she could think of at her demented Taskmaster. He listened for the sadistic thrill he derived from affirmation of his omnipotence over his victim, nothing more. Amanda had only seen Greg like this in her sweetest nightmares.
Then The Taskmaster moved his knowing hands to her calves. She hated having her calves touched. Getting a pedicure made her insides churn with desperate fear. The dangerous tickly sensations were too much for her to take. Amanda pulled with all the strength that she could against her tight leather straps but was only met with debilitating frustration. There was no getting away but Amanda promised herself that she would spit, kick and struggle until she passed out. Her feet were turning wildly and her hands were balling up into tight little fists as the only parts of her body that could move at all to do anything to dissipate the terrible sensations being forced on her supple young body. She hated Greg for putting her through this madness. She hated him even more for ignoring her desperate pleas for mercy. She wanted it to end, dear god she wanted it to end.
The Taskmaster had a particular obsession with Amanda’s calves. He had been giving her pedicures at their house ever since they had been married. Every time that he massaged her calves he was reminded of his forbidden lust for her hyper-ticklish weakness. All that pent up energy was being visited on the poor beautifully toned muscles just above the ankles of his blushing beauty. The maniacal howling of ticklish desperation was reward enough for over a decade of waiting to have his wife’s greatest weakness and fear as his own person treasure.
After he got fully acquainted with her calves, The Taskmaster started alternating from her three worst spots. He didn’t want her to experience even the least bit of comfort. He only had this one chance to make his terribly lasting first impression, and there was no way that he was going to let it slip by the wayside because he was not thorough. He was going to implant a deep sense of fear in his poor wife. He was going to make her cower in the very sight of him as no person had before. He is The Taskmaster; before him she rightly trembles.
Amanda was lost in the deep crater of her own despair. She was terrified and resigned to her fate all at the same time. The entire concept of mercy had been forcibly driven from her. She just screamed her head off and went more and more insane with every passing second. She had given up begging. All that she could do when she had the breath was to scream how much she fucking hated her husband for making her fears into such a reality. She hated him for violating her boundaries, spitting on her precious rules, and taking away her coveted sense of safety.
The backs of Amanda’s legs received this hellacious mistreatment for another 45 minutes. She had feared it for so long. Greg had been right. It was much worse than she had ever thought possible. Amanda’s muscles were sore, she was exhausted, and she was ashamed that in the midst of her greatest despair she was still regrettably right on the verge of a mind numbing orgasm. She could not feel the bliss of her desperate arousal but she could feel the pressure building in her lower body and the desire for immediate release. She still wondered why she couldn’t feel the pleasure. It was almost like it wasn’t hers anymore…
Then her world was destroyed again. She felt lotion being poured all over the backs of her legs. She was terrified at the possibilities. Her legs were still tingly with the sensations of her most desperate tickle torture that she had ever endured. That’s when her Taskmaster surprised her again. Greg firmly massaged and kneaded every muscle in the backs of her legs. He made sure to massage firm enough not to tickle at all. He massaged her legs and took away all the tickles and soreness of her bondage. Amanda was so grateful. All that she could do was sit there and weep into the mattress. She couldn’t believe that her master was being so nice to her. He was doing this because he wanted to not because she forced him to. For some reason that felt so genuine. She could feel pieces of her heart going into her master through the pores of her skin as he massaged. She was weeping but it was more of confusion and joy than sorrow.
Her husband’s strong hands were massaging the backs of her legs but she could feel the sensation in the back of her clit. At least she was aware of it. She still couldn’t experience the pleasure that was building within her swelling moist clit with every massage of her husbands hands and it frustrated her to no end. Someone was laughing at her plight and it was not Greg… part of Amanda thought that she had literally been tickled mad.
When he was done with her sensual massage he climbed the bed to kneel right between her open legs. She was painfully aware of how hard Greg must be right now. She could sense that he was ready to purge his own tickling sensations that have been accumulating in his terribly aching balls. She braced herself as he rubbed his manhood on her glistening thigh preparing to enter her gently from behind. Amanda gasped. There was a part of her that just craved the closeness of intercourse to alleviate the isolation of mindless torment. There was also a part of her that just felt wrong being so intimate after such emotional turmoil.
“You are so perfect pet… You have earned this… I promise I will make it all that you dreamt of…!” The only dream this resembled for Amanda was of a far off nightmare inspired by some obscure horror movie. She still could not deny that there was a part of her that swooned when Greg’s hardness pressed into her. She could feel the closeness she so desperately needed. She was aware that he was deep inside her, she was aware that she was dangerously close to cumming, but she couldn’t actually experience the pleasure. Her inability to reconcile the pleasure her body was experiencing with her emotional turmoil was mysteriously haunting...
The Taskmaster began to grind rhythmically into her elevated pelvis. Feeling her wetness warmly engulf all of him sent deliciously warm moist tickles all the way through his body and pounding into his aching balls. Amanda was out of energy. She was just resigned to accepting her master’s hardness and hoping that he would be done soon… could this be hope? Greg held her hips with one hand and moved her in time with his ever quickening gyration. He had been building to this orgasm since his first teasing tickles and playful spanking of his perfect Wife this morning. Just thinking about how playful and fun she was sent him closer and closer to the edge of orgasm. There was just one thing missing.
“Ahahahahahaahhahahahahahahahahaha stop please stop ahahahahahahahah!” Amanda erupted in desperate ticklish laughter as Greg’s free hand found his way to her sensitive ribs. She hated having her ribs tickled while he slid back and forth deep within her. The ticklish sensation was coursing through her very being. There was nothing that she could do to stop him. She just hoped to herself that he would finish quickly. That is until IT happened…
It was a mixture of the ticklish sensations and the pleasure of her arousal that she had been denied since she blocked out her enjoyment when she was first tied to the bed. She had been trying purposely not to give in to her enjoyment from the very beginning. It was only a second but the tickling mixed with Greg’s deliberate intrusion on her secret spot deep within her made the feeling come crashing into her conscious mind. It was the most intense erotic feeling that she ever felt in her life. All the energy that Greg had expended tormenting her had collected between her legs and the fire was burning hotter than ten thousand suns. When it dissipated and return to the back of her mind out of her reach she was even more frustrated, but that was not nearly the worst of her problems.
Amanda was more than startled to see a young woman sitting in the chair that Greg had pulled up next to the bed. This was the person that had been laughing at her plight the entire time that she was being tortured beyond reason and her heart felt pleas were going unanswered. Amanda was aghast to see that this young woman was watching intently while she was being taken from behind and having her ribs mercilessly tickled (her lustful eyes were as wide as saucers). Amanda was even more terrified to see that this sick little girl had her hand shoved down her shorts that barely covered her young legs. The young woman was touching herself. She was getting off on the terrible things that Greg had been doing to Amanda. She was wearing a tight little shirt that barely covered her large breasts. Amanda thought she might have snuck in, but the truth was more terrifying. Amanda suddenly realized that the young girl was HER.
This was the silly 18 year old girl that she left behind to start dating the professional man that she eventually married. This was the 18 year old girl who used to stay up late at night touching her self fantasizing about being abducted against her will and tickled within an inch of her life. This was the physical manifestation of the pleasure that she had been denying herself even though her husband had been giving it to her so unselfishly. Amanda could barley think. The little girl was working herself closer and closer to a mind numbing orgasm and Amanda could not believe that she just sat there. Amanda could not speak over her desperate screams of laughter as The Taskmaster was violently tickling her ribs. She believed that if she thought hard enough that she could tell the 18 year old version of herself to untie her or at least help her in some way. (((((“Please help me!”))))) The 18 year old slave girl just shook her head playfully back and forth from side to side. She was having far too much fun lewdly enjoying the spectacle of Amanda suffering at the mercy of her ruthless Husband. Seeing the little girl shake her head “no” made Amanda feel more alone than ever. Amanda did not even want to help herself out of this position.
Then all of a sudden Amanda could feel herself sitting in the chair watching the little girl writhing madly under Greg. She could tell that the 18 ear old version of herself was having the erotic time of her life being tickled mercilessly while having intercourse with her Husband. Greg didn’t appear as himself, his eyes were red, and his skin was covered with stiff feathers symbolizing the horrific tickling demon of her most sinful nightmares. Seeing the girl being tortured like that stirred deep arousal within Amanda and she snapped back to reality.
Suddenly, all the feelings of pleasure that she had been avoiding came crashing into her temples. Her body started moving in time with her husband despite the mad tickling and The Taskmaster could sense the change. Amanda’s emotions of fear and doubt were gone. They were replaced with the unbridled lust that her husband had created deep down within her. She had never felt this way before. Tickling had always kept her from climax. Right now the feelings that Greg was creating in her twitching ribcage and under her arms were pushing her closer and closer to what she knew would be an orgasm but felt more intense than anything she thought remotely possible.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh yesssssssss ahhahahahahahahahahahahahahah yes hahahahahahhahahahahahahahahah!” Greg knew it. He had finally won. She was his. She was all his. For all eternity Amanda was his. She was his toy to torment and pleasure all that he wanted. He almost wept as the emotions welled up in his chest and his balls ached deliciously. He knew exactly what she was thinking. He bent down and nibbled on her ear.
The feelings that Amanda was experiencing were powerful enough to have started an ear splitting orgasm but there was something holding the fire in her loins. The feeling of her husband’s teeth on her earlobe soothed her and she swooned to meet his affectionate caress. She was still screaming in helpless laughter and that only made her erotic feelings more intense much to her delight. “Cumm for me Amanda!” Her master had called her by her first name for the first time. Amanda felt so proud of herself. She looked over at the chair and the little girl was gone. All the pleasure that she was experiencing was a parting gift from the part of herself she left behind that she now gladly accepted back into her conscious mind. Amanda promised to never leave her behind again; no matter what people thought.
Greg’s words found their way to her burning hardened clit as he massaged her secret spot from deep within her and the volcanic eruption hit with catastrophically seismic proportions. She strained every muscle in her body against her tight bondage to grind as hard against her deliciously Evil Husband as much as inhumanly possible. She wanted to have as many waves of this delicious new pleasure coursing though her body as she could possibly manage. Luckily for her, Her Taskmaster never stopped his malicious stroking and she was lost in an ocean of pure unadulterated lustful exuberance.
The tickling of her torso melded with the nuclear meltdown deep within her loins like never before. Every time that Greg’s hands pressed against her rib cage its like her torso had a mini-gasm as she writhed under Greg like a mad woman from the waves of pleasure washing through her entire body from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. She just let the feelings crash into her temples as she fell in love with her husband all over again. Amanda’s desperate hysterical screams in the midst of cumming all of her fears out was all that Greg could stand. His pulsing erection began to violently spasm as a terrifying orgasm gripped his entire body and wrong every muscle within him. She was sent on a second path to orgasmic bliss just from feeling Greg’s own spasms deep inside her.
The new warmth against her special spot caused even more shivers up and down her spine. She could feel Greg gyrating deep inside her trying to pump out all of the liquid in his entire body through the pulsing tip of his erection that was exploding inside her. The mass of orgasmic bliss went on for 10 minutes straight with each of them in touch with parts of them that they had hidden so deeply inside themselves for far too long. Amanda had never felt anything like that and she could tell that Greg had been sent on his own screaming roller coaster. As the deep sea of sleep took over her body she couldn’t help but think how relieved she was that this awakening had finally happened.
As the morning light poured in through the window of their bedroom the deepest fear gripped ‘The Taskmaster.’ The truth is that The Taskmaster was the real Greg. He had created the mask that he wore to fit in with other kids. He knew that deriving pleasure from complete control over a helpless *ticklish* girl would not go over well with his future colleagues. Since he was a child Greg feared not being loved for his most intimate personal perversions. He had only found one person that vaguely understood and accepted him and that was Amanda. Even then it was through the fog of his ‘mask.’
He was terrified that she would reject him and make him create another mask to hide his true nature. He hid under the blankets as long as he could so he could put off having to deal with his Wife. He had managed to hide for these past few years and was indulged with casual light/medium tickle play. He regretted ever seeing the ray of hope the previous morning. Part of him wished that last night had never happened and part of him knew that no matter how much he tried he would never forget it.
He felt his wife get up and go to the bathroom without him. That was a BAD sign. They usually always got up and went to take a bath together. He just lay under the covers and hoped that his Wife would take his apology. He hoped that she did not loose her love for him, even if he thought he would have to regain her trust over time. He thought about Mark and Josh and how much he loved them. No matter what it took to make last night up to his beautiful Amanda, Greg made a promise to himself that he would do it.
Amanda walked back to the bedroom and turned off the light in their bathroom. She thought it strange that Greg would still be in bed. She thought that she would be the one who was exhausted. She didn’t have the heart to wake him too early after last night. It had been a lot for both of them so she just assume let her husband sleep. She was wearing one of his older button down shirts as a pajama set. She knew how he loved that.
Greg felt the weight of his wife return to the bed and he prepared for the worst. He was quite surprised to feel her hand reach around him and squeeze him tightly. She just snuggled tightly up against him and started lovingly kissing him on the cheek to wake him gently. She let her warm sweet lips caress his chin his neck and his earlobe as she roused her gentle dragon to attention.
“You know… you can’t stay in bed all day… you have THINGS to do…” Amanda’s breath in Greg’s ear melted every fiber of his being. He couldn’t believe what was happening. Her hand probing between his legs was a very pleasant shock. He felt her swing her leg over his and press her warm freshly glistening mound right against his thigh and it sparked him to life faster than any cappuccino.
He rolled over to her and looked her in her hazel eyes. She looked so beautiful. “Good morning!” Greg was at a loss for words when his wife took her hair and encased his entire head in it as she kissed him deeply and passionately. It always made him feel so intimate to be lost in her sea of hair as they kissed. Greg’s heart was pounding in his chest. He was looking for the slightest hint of anger but there was none. His wife was just showering him in unselfish affection and letting him know how much she still desired him. He felt her softening socks rub up against his legs and he could smell a thick layer of cucumber melon on her skin…
“What were you up to this morning?” He pulled away from her passionate kiss to make a subtle inquisition about her apparel.
“I wanted everything to be perfect for my master. You have me all to yourself here for the next few days with no kids to worry about. Plus I had the most naughty dreams last night that I thought you might want to *Punish* me for before breakfast!” Greg’s mind was racing a mile a minute. This was not helped by the fact that Amanda’s hand had been stroking him this entire time. Just hearing her invite the word “punish” sent chills through him. She playfully kissed and nibbled in his ear, she knew how much Greg loved that. “Last night was amazing… Your are just so FUCKING SADISTIC and I can’t nearly get enough of it Master.” Greg didn’t need to be a rocket scientist to deduce that Amanda was perfectly okay with their new intensity of play. Further evidence to how much she was looking forward to their next intense session could be found as she was suggestively grinding herself against his leg.
He looked up into her hazel eyes as her hair still made for their perfect morning romantic nook that enclosed the two of them. He just had to ask. “I thought that you would be mad at me…?”
She playfully punched him in the arm and smiled from ear to ear as she kissed him deeply again. “I am really mad at you Greg… hehe I can’t believe that you read my diary…
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Epilogue:
In the interest of fitting in we often try to change or block out big parts of ourselves to conform to another person or societies expectations. In the case of our loving couple a young girl with naughty fantasies of abduction and sensual torture and an aspiring professional who loved the idea of rendering the woman he loved completely helpless for merciless tickle-torture both left parts of themselves behind to make a more ‘acceptable’ suburban family.
Greg and Amanda spent so much time burying these parts of them to make their life look normal to people on the outside of their inner circle that it was hard to be honest, even with each other. They enjoyed Tickle play over the years and had a good sex life, but nothing at the level of intensity that either of them truly desired. Ironically ‘The Slave Girl’ was even more of a ruthless tease than Amanda because she thoroughly accepted and enjoyed the mindless torment that she constantly earned herself. ‘The Taskmaster’ was even more loving and caring of Amanda because everything he did was more genuine-he was no longer trying to hide anything and he could be completely emotionally honest. That and his new found depths of debauchery really made Amanda truly feel ‘specail.’
Sometimes, the only way to rediscover those parts of yourself that you left behind to make yourself look better to other people is to take time together as a couple away from those people so that you can work on being honest, open, and appealing to each other-not the people in your circle. There are few venues on this earth that offer that same romantic seclusion like the New Jersey Shore.
The END
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Get out to VOTE
Hello again everyone. I am so floored by the support that this work has garnered... I am completely blown away. Thank you all for your support. In that spirit I would like to humbly ask you all to help support the writers of this forum that provide the detailed content that we all love so much by voting in the Golden feather awards here.
and to all those who like to remain anonymous. I understand. I was like that for a while myself. you will be happy to know that there is a process for voting that does not require anything public signifying your identity. I would love it if you would avail yourself to that process as well. Thank you all so much again for your wonderful support and I think i speak for all the members of the "Writers Guild" when I thank you for participating in the Golden Feather selection process.
Thank you all again so much... this has meant so much to me.
JJ.
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