Interesting titles make interesting stories, right?
This is a story I wrote recounting my perspective on a night I had with my boyfriend (a fellow TMFer). Do be sure to check out his side of the story as well, being sure to note that due to my nearly immediate entrance into subspace, my story may have some inconsistencies from his.
Enjoy.
“What about here?” he asked, pointing down a residential street.
“Eh,” I replied. “It’s awfully well-lit. And … residential.” My nervousness was showing through. I couldn’t help it. We’ve played before, but never how we were planning to play tonight.
“Alright,” he replied. We kept driving, further and further from home. Our eyes searched for the perfect spot. Every side street, every dead end, and every dark, abandoned parking lot came under our scrutiny and somehow fell short.
The air in his car was thick with a mixture of nerves and excitement. His hand reached for mine, giving a reassuring squeeze. Somehow he always knows when I need reassurance. And somehow he always knows how to give it to me.
The search for our paradise, that perfect spot of seclusion, lasted what seemed like eternity. Three U-turns and many indecisive exchanges later, we had found it. He pulled his car into the parking lot of an old abandoned building. The parking lot has no lights. Despite the darkness I could tell the building had been empty for quite some time. Its paint was faded and the empty windows stared silently at the roadside. It was perfect.
He turned the car off but left the radio on. It was silly to think that either of us would hear it. A moment heavy with excitement passed as we sat in the darkened car.
“Well,” he said, breaking the silence. “Did you want to get in back?”
Without a moment’s further hesitation, I unbuckled my seatbelt, slipped out of my shoes, and climbed into the back seat, awaiting my fate. Our eyes met for a moment and I remembered what I’d told him the night before...
I climbed on his lap and bit his lower lip in a kiss. Then I leaned down and whispered in his ear.
“I want you to break me.”
Our eye contact broke as I inched myself down in the back seat and raised my legs up over the passenger side headrest. He cuffed my ankles together the way a kid might put together a brand new toy - meticulous, but excited. I continued to sit in silent excitement as he tied my arms to the headrest. I half-heartedly tested the knot. It was tight, but I could get out of it if I wanted to.
I didn’t want to.
“Should we do the password game?” I asked, probably a bit too eagerly.
“Yeah, sure dude. Whatever you wanna do,” he replied, already eyeing me up. “One letter at a time. Ready?”
Before I could answer his fingers found my socked foot. The first touch felt like electricity coursing through my entire body. It started at my sole, snaked up my leg, and hit my spine with a burst of tactile force I couldn’t fight. My intention had been to play it cool, hold on to my laughter and to the first letter of my password until I could hardly breathe. But this sudden rush of feeling took me by surprise. I inhaled with a high pitched gasp and exhaled with uncontrollable giggling.
“Oh no!” he mocked. “Is my little girl ticklish? She couldn’t be! Not my girl!”
His taunting somehow made the sensations stronger. Without meaning to, I started giggling harder. My feet began to struggle in their restraints. One foot tried to protect the other, but to no avail. His fingers expertly danced over both soles as I writhed in ticklish agony.
“S!” I yelled. The first letter of my password.
“What’s the matter?” he continued. “Can’t take it?”
One of his hands slid up my leg to my knee - another one of my worst spots. His fingers keep sliding up until they reach the perfect spot above my knee. He lets the tension hang in the air a split second before digging right in and getting a new octave out of me.
“T!” I yelled between shrill shrieks and forced laughter.
“You’re giving this up too easy! You can’t possibly be that ticklish, can you?” he chirped as he brought his mouth down close to my left knee and bit it – a technique he’s used in the past… one he knows drives me up a wall.
My laughter became squeaks as my body involuntarily thrashed.
“R! RRRRRRRR!” I kept spilling out letters thinking it would slow him down. Quite the contrary, it seemed to fuel him.
“So quick to give up your password, ticklish girl,” he said as he moved back down to my feet. He placed a single finger on my heel as he grabbed my sock and began to slide it off, keeping his finger in contact with my sensitive sole the whole time. I giggled like a little girl the whole time. He did the same to the other sock. My now bare feet were hanging in the open of the front seat, right within his reach.
“You’ve got such cute feet, you know that?” he said as he admired them. I reacted in my usual way – denial with a side of nose scrunch.
His first touch to my bare feet was even more electric than before. Every nerve ending stood at attention as they relayed the ticklish feeling to my brain. Despite having calmed down during my brief break, I fell immediately back into hard belly laughter. The feeling was so intense right away I almost couldn’t take it.
“A!” I shouted, still laughing.
He paused for a moment and gave me a wily look. His hands were just above my feet, fingers wildly wiggling. Completely panic-stricken, I started shouting letters, thinking it would slow him down.
“W! B! E!”
I was still laughing and curling my toes without even being touched.
I easily gave away the rest of my password as he alternated from my feet to my knees to my hips. He knew every horrible spot and exactly how to tickle it to get the biggest reaction from me. I both loved and hated that fact at this moment.
After so submissively giving him my entire password, my “punishment” was going to be pure torture. He was going to tickle me until I cried. I wanted him to torture me so bad. I’d been waiting for this for so long.
After untying me, he joined me in the back seat. I laid across the whole seat with my feet in his lap. Despite being untied I was still fairly incapacitated. My body was tense with anticipation.
“I think… we should play piggies!” he said with a grin. My body tensed further at the thought. My head shaking no adamantly, I desperately searched my mind for a reason for him not to do it.
He started without me.
“This little piggy went to market.” He wiggled my big toe as I burst into laughter. His fingers slipped between my first two toes, scratching against the soft skin he found there. My laughter went from hard to hysterical. His grin went from happy to Cheshire cat.
“This little piggy stayed home. Poor piggy!” He grabbed my second toe, then found the sensitive flesh on the side of it, testing its limits, comparing to the first. My laughter waxed and waned, but never stopped.
“This little piggy had roast beef. Yum!” He leaned in and put my middle toe in his mouth, teeth scraping against it. The sensation was so strong I saw stars, as though maybe I would pass out. My consciousness prevailed, however, and I began to lose control. My laughter was hard and steady at this point, face almost sore from smiling. I almost felt intoxicated, like the first notion of a buzz off of a drink.
“This poor piggy? He had none.” My fourth toe got showered with attention, and my laughter steadily got higher and harder. Every breath I took was a squeak. He was loving it, and so was I.
“This last piggy. What did he do, again?” he asked me. Not rhetorically. I calmed down a bit but continued to laugh as I shrugged my shoulders, brushing off his question.
“Oh no… you don’t know? Well, I need to start over then…”
The thought of him starting over was too much for me. I immediately pleaded him not to.
“No no no please! Pleeease! No!” I begged him as I struggled and squeaked for air, sitting up to plead with my eyes.
“Okay, okay… well, this last one, for the record, went wee wee wee all the way home!” He used two fingers to tickle underneath my pinky toe, and I once again lost what little composure I had, slipping further into a submission I hadn’t felt before.
He took this as a cue to up the ante. With my ankle restrained he used his nails against the soft skin of my foot. He had no mercy and no reservations. He scratched across the ball of my foot and I gave him sounds I’d never made before. I pressed my face against the back seat, laughing and squeaking hard as my body involuntarily squirmed.
Drinking in my reactions, he raised my foot up to his mouth and raked his teeth against the soft flesh of my arch. My whole body was caught in a spasm, moving in every direction without my permission. I felt as though I was clinically insane – laughing so hard it almost hurt, pressed against the seat of his car. I had no concept of time or place. My only knowledge was that of this sensation that was consuming my very being.
This lasted for what seemed to me as hours. I just laid there writhing and laughing in what must have looked like pure torture. And it was. It was torture. But I loved every second of it, soaked in every ticklish sensation. And it made me want him even more.
He stopped only because I needed air. And when he did stop I noticed how completely intoxicated I was by his tickling. I was slurring my words. I could hardly move. It was positively euphoric, and I couldn’t stop smiling.
After a feeble attempt at revenge on my part, we left our secluded paradise, making the drive home. As we drove through the city, everything was a blur. The lights ran together, giving everything a foggy halo. All I could do was smile and look at him. I was smiling partially because I loved what he did to me that night. But I was also smiling about the revenge he was to get the next time we find ourselves in the car looking for just the right spot.
This is a story I wrote recounting my perspective on a night I had with my boyfriend (a fellow TMFer). Do be sure to check out his side of the story as well, being sure to note that due to my nearly immediate entrance into subspace, my story may have some inconsistencies from his.
Enjoy.
“What about here?” he asked, pointing down a residential street.
“Eh,” I replied. “It’s awfully well-lit. And … residential.” My nervousness was showing through. I couldn’t help it. We’ve played before, but never how we were planning to play tonight.
“Alright,” he replied. We kept driving, further and further from home. Our eyes searched for the perfect spot. Every side street, every dead end, and every dark, abandoned parking lot came under our scrutiny and somehow fell short.
The air in his car was thick with a mixture of nerves and excitement. His hand reached for mine, giving a reassuring squeeze. Somehow he always knows when I need reassurance. And somehow he always knows how to give it to me.
The search for our paradise, that perfect spot of seclusion, lasted what seemed like eternity. Three U-turns and many indecisive exchanges later, we had found it. He pulled his car into the parking lot of an old abandoned building. The parking lot has no lights. Despite the darkness I could tell the building had been empty for quite some time. Its paint was faded and the empty windows stared silently at the roadside. It was perfect.
He turned the car off but left the radio on. It was silly to think that either of us would hear it. A moment heavy with excitement passed as we sat in the darkened car.
“Well,” he said, breaking the silence. “Did you want to get in back?”
Without a moment’s further hesitation, I unbuckled my seatbelt, slipped out of my shoes, and climbed into the back seat, awaiting my fate. Our eyes met for a moment and I remembered what I’d told him the night before...
I climbed on his lap and bit his lower lip in a kiss. Then I leaned down and whispered in his ear.
“I want you to break me.”
Our eye contact broke as I inched myself down in the back seat and raised my legs up over the passenger side headrest. He cuffed my ankles together the way a kid might put together a brand new toy - meticulous, but excited. I continued to sit in silent excitement as he tied my arms to the headrest. I half-heartedly tested the knot. It was tight, but I could get out of it if I wanted to.
I didn’t want to.
“Should we do the password game?” I asked, probably a bit too eagerly.
“Yeah, sure dude. Whatever you wanna do,” he replied, already eyeing me up. “One letter at a time. Ready?”
Before I could answer his fingers found my socked foot. The first touch felt like electricity coursing through my entire body. It started at my sole, snaked up my leg, and hit my spine with a burst of tactile force I couldn’t fight. My intention had been to play it cool, hold on to my laughter and to the first letter of my password until I could hardly breathe. But this sudden rush of feeling took me by surprise. I inhaled with a high pitched gasp and exhaled with uncontrollable giggling.
“Oh no!” he mocked. “Is my little girl ticklish? She couldn’t be! Not my girl!”
His taunting somehow made the sensations stronger. Without meaning to, I started giggling harder. My feet began to struggle in their restraints. One foot tried to protect the other, but to no avail. His fingers expertly danced over both soles as I writhed in ticklish agony.
“S!” I yelled. The first letter of my password.
“What’s the matter?” he continued. “Can’t take it?”
One of his hands slid up my leg to my knee - another one of my worst spots. His fingers keep sliding up until they reach the perfect spot above my knee. He lets the tension hang in the air a split second before digging right in and getting a new octave out of me.
“T!” I yelled between shrill shrieks and forced laughter.
“You’re giving this up too easy! You can’t possibly be that ticklish, can you?” he chirped as he brought his mouth down close to my left knee and bit it – a technique he’s used in the past… one he knows drives me up a wall.
My laughter became squeaks as my body involuntarily thrashed.
“R! RRRRRRRR!” I kept spilling out letters thinking it would slow him down. Quite the contrary, it seemed to fuel him.
“So quick to give up your password, ticklish girl,” he said as he moved back down to my feet. He placed a single finger on my heel as he grabbed my sock and began to slide it off, keeping his finger in contact with my sensitive sole the whole time. I giggled like a little girl the whole time. He did the same to the other sock. My now bare feet were hanging in the open of the front seat, right within his reach.
“You’ve got such cute feet, you know that?” he said as he admired them. I reacted in my usual way – denial with a side of nose scrunch.
His first touch to my bare feet was even more electric than before. Every nerve ending stood at attention as they relayed the ticklish feeling to my brain. Despite having calmed down during my brief break, I fell immediately back into hard belly laughter. The feeling was so intense right away I almost couldn’t take it.
“A!” I shouted, still laughing.
He paused for a moment and gave me a wily look. His hands were just above my feet, fingers wildly wiggling. Completely panic-stricken, I started shouting letters, thinking it would slow him down.
“W! B! E!”
I was still laughing and curling my toes without even being touched.
I easily gave away the rest of my password as he alternated from my feet to my knees to my hips. He knew every horrible spot and exactly how to tickle it to get the biggest reaction from me. I both loved and hated that fact at this moment.
After so submissively giving him my entire password, my “punishment” was going to be pure torture. He was going to tickle me until I cried. I wanted him to torture me so bad. I’d been waiting for this for so long.
After untying me, he joined me in the back seat. I laid across the whole seat with my feet in his lap. Despite being untied I was still fairly incapacitated. My body was tense with anticipation.
“I think… we should play piggies!” he said with a grin. My body tensed further at the thought. My head shaking no adamantly, I desperately searched my mind for a reason for him not to do it.
He started without me.
“This little piggy went to market.” He wiggled my big toe as I burst into laughter. His fingers slipped between my first two toes, scratching against the soft skin he found there. My laughter went from hard to hysterical. His grin went from happy to Cheshire cat.
“This little piggy stayed home. Poor piggy!” He grabbed my second toe, then found the sensitive flesh on the side of it, testing its limits, comparing to the first. My laughter waxed and waned, but never stopped.
“This little piggy had roast beef. Yum!” He leaned in and put my middle toe in his mouth, teeth scraping against it. The sensation was so strong I saw stars, as though maybe I would pass out. My consciousness prevailed, however, and I began to lose control. My laughter was hard and steady at this point, face almost sore from smiling. I almost felt intoxicated, like the first notion of a buzz off of a drink.
“This poor piggy? He had none.” My fourth toe got showered with attention, and my laughter steadily got higher and harder. Every breath I took was a squeak. He was loving it, and so was I.
“This last piggy. What did he do, again?” he asked me. Not rhetorically. I calmed down a bit but continued to laugh as I shrugged my shoulders, brushing off his question.
“Oh no… you don’t know? Well, I need to start over then…”
The thought of him starting over was too much for me. I immediately pleaded him not to.
“No no no please! Pleeease! No!” I begged him as I struggled and squeaked for air, sitting up to plead with my eyes.
“Okay, okay… well, this last one, for the record, went wee wee wee all the way home!” He used two fingers to tickle underneath my pinky toe, and I once again lost what little composure I had, slipping further into a submission I hadn’t felt before.
He took this as a cue to up the ante. With my ankle restrained he used his nails against the soft skin of my foot. He had no mercy and no reservations. He scratched across the ball of my foot and I gave him sounds I’d never made before. I pressed my face against the back seat, laughing and squeaking hard as my body involuntarily squirmed.
Drinking in my reactions, he raised my foot up to his mouth and raked his teeth against the soft flesh of my arch. My whole body was caught in a spasm, moving in every direction without my permission. I felt as though I was clinically insane – laughing so hard it almost hurt, pressed against the seat of his car. I had no concept of time or place. My only knowledge was that of this sensation that was consuming my very being.
This lasted for what seemed to me as hours. I just laid there writhing and laughing in what must have looked like pure torture. And it was. It was torture. But I loved every second of it, soaked in every ticklish sensation. And it made me want him even more.
He stopped only because I needed air. And when he did stop I noticed how completely intoxicated I was by his tickling. I was slurring my words. I could hardly move. It was positively euphoric, and I couldn’t stop smiling.
After a feeble attempt at revenge on my part, we left our secluded paradise, making the drive home. As we drove through the city, everything was a blur. The lights ran together, giving everything a foggy halo. All I could do was smile and look at him. I was smiling partially because I loved what he did to me that night. But I was also smiling about the revenge he was to get the next time we find ourselves in the car looking for just the right spot.
