"We are going to do something a little different from what we talked about," she said with a sly smile.
He was not sure what that meant, exactly. He was not in a position to argue with her: tied to the bed, completely naked. His arms were stretched to the side and secured with restraints under the mattress. His legs were in padded stocks that were also secured to the bed. The loops at the top of the stocks kept his feet arched and the undersides of his toes exposed.
As for her, she was dressed in what she called her "slutty little black dress." Barely 5'0" tall with fantastic curves, auburn hair, and beautiful eyes, he was smitten. She did not have any shoes on, revealing her tiny, size five feet and pedicured toes painted a lovely spring floral color that matched her fingers, shade of pink. He wasn't sure whether she was wearing any panties, but she frequently talked about her desire to shove them in his mouth. Maybe that's what she meant?
It was hard to describe their relationship. He was married, but not to her. She was with a long term partner. They dated briefly some 15 years ago but now their relationship was mostly through texts as they stayed in touch through the years. She knew about his tickling fetish and all of his deepest desires. She knew more than even his wife. He had wanted to see her again for years and, finally, he had been able to make the 4 hour drive to visit her.
"Do you trust me?" she asked as she straddled his waist.
Already sweating slightly, he said "yes, I do."
"And you remember your safewords? Standard stoplight system. But, if you call 'red,' you're going to get a surprise," she said.
He swallowed hard and nodded.
"And do you know your tribute?" She said. "Not the money."
He was confused. A tribute? Isn't that money? They had planned to go to dinner later, but that didn't seem right. He shook his head, puzzled.
"Ok then," she said.
He expected that she would start by teasing him. She had talked in the past about how she likes hitting sensitive spots with light touches to get her "victim" squirming. But what happened next was more like an electric shock. She did not ease him in. Instead, her hands squeezed his sides with an intensity that had him bucking and crying out immediately.
"Ah! Hahahahah! Waitwaitwait."
"That's not a safeword," she said matter-of-factly as she raked her takes under his arms and in the soft spot aside of his chest. Her tickling was so intense, he bucked, screamed, and laughed and struggled to catch his breath thanks to the attack he had not been prepared for.
"Aahahah, Okay, Okay, Red Red Red!" he said after barely a minute.
Without saying a word, she reached to her left and grabbed a riding crop that she had placed on the bed. He hadn't seen it. She started to strike the inside of his thighs with it.
Pain. She loved, loved inflicting pain. But he didn't. When they negotiated, though, he said specifically that nothing was off limits as long as nothing was inserted into him. That caused her to pout a bit, as she loved sounding.
But pain was not off-limits.
"Ah! Ow! Ahhhh!" he cried as she struck up and down his inner thighs. "Ow! Damnit! Red!"
She stopped instantly and, less than a second later, turned around and began raking her nails into the soles of his feet.
"Ahahahhhahahahahha" all he could do was laugh and thrash as one again, she tickled him with an intensity of about an 11 on the 1-10 scale. The worst spot was his toes, which he could do nothing to protect and which she attacked without a hint of mercy.
"Ahahahahahahaha please anyahahaha, anywhere else, hahahaha" he cried.
She ignored him, redoubling her efforts.
After about a minute, he couldn't stand it anymore ... "Redredredred!" he cried.
She turned and, once again without waiting, slapped his balls with her hand. It wasn't with anything near her full stretch, but damn did it sting.
"AHH!" he yelled. He cried red after only the third slap, and she instantly started tickling his stomach with a reckless abandon.
"Did you figure out your tribute yet?" she asked. All he could do was laugh. His stomach was incredibly ticklish, which she knew. He could barely catch his breath. As big a tickling fan as he was, this was a torture unlike anything he had experienced. But he had a suspicion she would hurt him if he called red, so he tried to endure.
"Ahahahhaha oh my hahaha god, hahahaha."
After what felt like an hour, but was probably closer to five minutes, he could tell she had no intent of stopping or slowing and he cried red.
This time, she paused.
"I'm sure you figured out our little game," she said. "If you call 'red' during the tickling, then you receive some pain, and vice versa."
Before he could answer, she slapped him across the face. It stung. She slapped the other cheek. Then again, and again. It was easier to take than the slapping of his balls, and he held out as long as he could.
"Ahh!, fuck. Red," he said, resigned.
She went to the tops of his feet, another incredibly ticklish spot. She also ran her fingers over his shins, which drove him to insanity. He safeworded even faster this time. The riding crop came back and she started whipping his exposed feet with it.
And on, and on, and on it went.
"What is your tribute?" she asked. He had no idea, but he knew this torment was almost more than he could bear. She tickled every inch of his body. She struck his stomach, face, feet, legs, and balls. Over about 10 rounds, she put him through the most intense tickle torture of his life and more pain than he had ever received. He noticed that, the more she hurt him, the more he was able to take. At one point, his "pain" was her forcefully rubbing ice cubes on his balls. When he called "red," she responded by tickling his sides and belly with a newly heightened ferocity.
Finally, she stopped. She held a water bottle to his lips and let him sip. His entire body tingled. She put the bottle down, hiked up her shirt, revealing that she was indeed not wearing anything underneath. She sat on his face.
"You know what to do," she said as she started tickling him.
This time, she was gentle. The tease of her nails was the type of tickling he loved and that always got him hard. He squirmed and giggled as his cock slowly rose. All the while, he licked her with abandon. He could taste her and how wet she was getting as she teased his chest, armpits, neck, and belly with gentle tickles. She ground into his face as she got closer to orgasm and he could feel it on his face as she came.
"Do you know what your tribute is, yet?" she asked.
"Making you orgasm?" he said.
She sighed. "Nope," she said. "Time for the next stage."
She squirted lube on his rock hard cock and began to stroke him with her right hand as she gently tickled him with her left. Within moments, he was on the verge of cumming. She stopped stroking and gave his balls a light slap.
"What is your tribute?" she asked.
He didn't know. She wrapped her tiny feet around his cock and ran her toes up and down his shaft. She leaned back so she could reach over the stocks and tickle his feet.
"Ahhh ahahaha, oh that feels so hahaha so good," he said.
Again, she stopped before he came and tapped his balls with her toes. He still had no idea what his tribute was supposed to be or what she was even talking about.
She took off her dress and now, she was as naked as he was. She surrounded his cock with her ample breasts. Squeezing them together, she started giving him the first tit-job he had ever had. He got him so excited that she barely started before his breath started to quicken. She stopped, slapped his balls, and started to tickle his sides again.
"Ahahaha ahahahhaha," he cried out as she smiled at him.
She grabbed a feather and started tracing it up and down his cock. She put her head in her left hand, staring intently at his cock as she tickled the shaft and balls. He giggled and got harder than he thought possible. On it went for several minutes. He squirmed like he was on the hot seat. She stared, almost expressionless, and made sure that he didn't go over the edge.
She stopped and put the feather down. She scooted her naked body on top of his and, much to his shock, started kissing him passionately. He melted as her lips pressed into his, and shivered as their tongues touched. She gently tickled him with both hands, up and down his sides as she kissed him, taking his arousal to a new level. She kept kissing him, moving from his lips to his neck and back again, as she tickled his balls and stroked his cock. This is what she was building to, and how she would finally make him cum.
Abruptly, she stopped.
"I'm hungry, let's go get dinner," she said.
Wait, no orgasm? He thought. "Oh, OK, are we done."
"Yes," she said as she undid the stocks and moved to free his hands. "I want to go to that farm-to-table place. Go shower and get dressed and we can leave in 15 minutes or so?"
He had been on the edge for over half an hour. He felt his cock straining, his balls full. This was even more torture and ... wait ... maybe that's the point. It dawned on him.
"My suffering," he said.
Her eyebrows raised. "Say more?"
"My suffering for you, that is my tribute. You hurt me. Tickled me without mercy. You made me get you cum and got me incredibly excited without orgasm because you love all of those things. It pleases you. My suffering is your tribute," he said.
"You're right," she said with a smile. She gave his stomach a quick tickle and leaned in for one more kiss. She scooped up her dress and walked towards the door.
"Hey," he said.
She turned.
"I .. umm ... I love you," he said.
"I know," she said. With a wink, she was out the door. He lay there for a moment, in a daze. And then he went to take a cold shower before dinner.
He was not sure what that meant, exactly. He was not in a position to argue with her: tied to the bed, completely naked. His arms were stretched to the side and secured with restraints under the mattress. His legs were in padded stocks that were also secured to the bed. The loops at the top of the stocks kept his feet arched and the undersides of his toes exposed.
As for her, she was dressed in what she called her "slutty little black dress." Barely 5'0" tall with fantastic curves, auburn hair, and beautiful eyes, he was smitten. She did not have any shoes on, revealing her tiny, size five feet and pedicured toes painted a lovely spring floral color that matched her fingers, shade of pink. He wasn't sure whether she was wearing any panties, but she frequently talked about her desire to shove them in his mouth. Maybe that's what she meant?
It was hard to describe their relationship. He was married, but not to her. She was with a long term partner. They dated briefly some 15 years ago but now their relationship was mostly through texts as they stayed in touch through the years. She knew about his tickling fetish and all of his deepest desires. She knew more than even his wife. He had wanted to see her again for years and, finally, he had been able to make the 4 hour drive to visit her.
"Do you trust me?" she asked as she straddled his waist.
Already sweating slightly, he said "yes, I do."
"And you remember your safewords? Standard stoplight system. But, if you call 'red,' you're going to get a surprise," she said.
He swallowed hard and nodded.
"And do you know your tribute?" She said. "Not the money."
He was confused. A tribute? Isn't that money? They had planned to go to dinner later, but that didn't seem right. He shook his head, puzzled.
"Ok then," she said.
He expected that she would start by teasing him. She had talked in the past about how she likes hitting sensitive spots with light touches to get her "victim" squirming. But what happened next was more like an electric shock. She did not ease him in. Instead, her hands squeezed his sides with an intensity that had him bucking and crying out immediately.
"Ah! Hahahahah! Waitwaitwait."
"That's not a safeword," she said matter-of-factly as she raked her takes under his arms and in the soft spot aside of his chest. Her tickling was so intense, he bucked, screamed, and laughed and struggled to catch his breath thanks to the attack he had not been prepared for.
"Aahahah, Okay, Okay, Red Red Red!" he said after barely a minute.
Without saying a word, she reached to her left and grabbed a riding crop that she had placed on the bed. He hadn't seen it. She started to strike the inside of his thighs with it.
Pain. She loved, loved inflicting pain. But he didn't. When they negotiated, though, he said specifically that nothing was off limits as long as nothing was inserted into him. That caused her to pout a bit, as she loved sounding.
But pain was not off-limits.
"Ah! Ow! Ahhhh!" he cried as she struck up and down his inner thighs. "Ow! Damnit! Red!"
She stopped instantly and, less than a second later, turned around and began raking her nails into the soles of his feet.
"Ahahahhhahahahahha" all he could do was laugh and thrash as one again, she tickled him with an intensity of about an 11 on the 1-10 scale. The worst spot was his toes, which he could do nothing to protect and which she attacked without a hint of mercy.
"Ahahahahahahaha please anyahahaha, anywhere else, hahahaha" he cried.
She ignored him, redoubling her efforts.
After about a minute, he couldn't stand it anymore ... "Redredredred!" he cried.
She turned and, once again without waiting, slapped his balls with her hand. It wasn't with anything near her full stretch, but damn did it sting.
"AHH!" he yelled. He cried red after only the third slap, and she instantly started tickling his stomach with a reckless abandon.
"Did you figure out your tribute yet?" she asked. All he could do was laugh. His stomach was incredibly ticklish, which she knew. He could barely catch his breath. As big a tickling fan as he was, this was a torture unlike anything he had experienced. But he had a suspicion she would hurt him if he called red, so he tried to endure.
"Ahahahhaha oh my hahaha god, hahahaha."
After what felt like an hour, but was probably closer to five minutes, he could tell she had no intent of stopping or slowing and he cried red.
This time, she paused.
"I'm sure you figured out our little game," she said. "If you call 'red' during the tickling, then you receive some pain, and vice versa."
Before he could answer, she slapped him across the face. It stung. She slapped the other cheek. Then again, and again. It was easier to take than the slapping of his balls, and he held out as long as he could.
"Ahh!, fuck. Red," he said, resigned.
She went to the tops of his feet, another incredibly ticklish spot. She also ran her fingers over his shins, which drove him to insanity. He safeworded even faster this time. The riding crop came back and she started whipping his exposed feet with it.
And on, and on, and on it went.
"What is your tribute?" she asked. He had no idea, but he knew this torment was almost more than he could bear. She tickled every inch of his body. She struck his stomach, face, feet, legs, and balls. Over about 10 rounds, she put him through the most intense tickle torture of his life and more pain than he had ever received. He noticed that, the more she hurt him, the more he was able to take. At one point, his "pain" was her forcefully rubbing ice cubes on his balls. When he called "red," she responded by tickling his sides and belly with a newly heightened ferocity.
Finally, she stopped. She held a water bottle to his lips and let him sip. His entire body tingled. She put the bottle down, hiked up her shirt, revealing that she was indeed not wearing anything underneath. She sat on his face.
"You know what to do," she said as she started tickling him.
This time, she was gentle. The tease of her nails was the type of tickling he loved and that always got him hard. He squirmed and giggled as his cock slowly rose. All the while, he licked her with abandon. He could taste her and how wet she was getting as she teased his chest, armpits, neck, and belly with gentle tickles. She ground into his face as she got closer to orgasm and he could feel it on his face as she came.
"Do you know what your tribute is, yet?" she asked.
"Making you orgasm?" he said.
She sighed. "Nope," she said. "Time for the next stage."
She squirted lube on his rock hard cock and began to stroke him with her right hand as she gently tickled him with her left. Within moments, he was on the verge of cumming. She stopped stroking and gave his balls a light slap.
"What is your tribute?" she asked.
He didn't know. She wrapped her tiny feet around his cock and ran her toes up and down his shaft. She leaned back so she could reach over the stocks and tickle his feet.
"Ahhh ahahaha, oh that feels so hahaha so good," he said.
Again, she stopped before he came and tapped his balls with her toes. He still had no idea what his tribute was supposed to be or what she was even talking about.
She took off her dress and now, she was as naked as he was. She surrounded his cock with her ample breasts. Squeezing them together, she started giving him the first tit-job he had ever had. He got him so excited that she barely started before his breath started to quicken. She stopped, slapped his balls, and started to tickle his sides again.
"Ahahaha ahahahhaha," he cried out as she smiled at him.
She grabbed a feather and started tracing it up and down his cock. She put her head in her left hand, staring intently at his cock as she tickled the shaft and balls. He giggled and got harder than he thought possible. On it went for several minutes. He squirmed like he was on the hot seat. She stared, almost expressionless, and made sure that he didn't go over the edge.
She stopped and put the feather down. She scooted her naked body on top of his and, much to his shock, started kissing him passionately. He melted as her lips pressed into his, and shivered as their tongues touched. She gently tickled him with both hands, up and down his sides as she kissed him, taking his arousal to a new level. She kept kissing him, moving from his lips to his neck and back again, as she tickled his balls and stroked his cock. This is what she was building to, and how she would finally make him cum.
Abruptly, she stopped.
"I'm hungry, let's go get dinner," she said.
Wait, no orgasm? He thought. "Oh, OK, are we done."
"Yes," she said as she undid the stocks and moved to free his hands. "I want to go to that farm-to-table place. Go shower and get dressed and we can leave in 15 minutes or so?"
He had been on the edge for over half an hour. He felt his cock straining, his balls full. This was even more torture and ... wait ... maybe that's the point. It dawned on him.
"My suffering," he said.
Her eyebrows raised. "Say more?"
"My suffering for you, that is my tribute. You hurt me. Tickled me without mercy. You made me get you cum and got me incredibly excited without orgasm because you love all of those things. It pleases you. My suffering is your tribute," he said.
"You're right," she said with a smile. She gave his stomach a quick tickle and leaned in for one more kiss. She scooped up her dress and walked towards the door.
"Hey," he said.
She turned.
"I .. umm ... I love you," he said.
"I know," she said. With a wink, she was out the door. He lay there for a moment, in a daze. And then he went to take a cold shower before dinner.
