Come for the cool title, stay for the cruel torture.
This is a true story between a male and female, and I am writing from the male end of things. To avoid the common hilarity of fake names that we both know aren't real, I'll be sticking to the terms I/her/he/she.
We've had this idea for months on end, discussed in hypotheticals but leaving enough room for anything to happen. The idea was to have her, my pretty red headed girlfriend, in the backseat of my car with her feet trapped in the passenger seat head rest, tied securely. Being that I'm in a bustling city with little rural surrounding, finding an appropriate place was bound to be...hard. So we decided to make looking around part of the suspense, the perverted build.
That's about as far as we got aside from a few clothing preferences. I was in a black shirt with a button down long sleeve over it, and her in a grey jacket, jeans and soft shirt when we were in my car, scouting out a part of the city we hoped would work. It was a run-down but not dangerous part of the city, one where we had gotten a hotel a few times during earlier visits. If all else failed we could go there, but that wasn't the case.
We noted a couple small, desolate spots. This was of course risky, and we're paranoid people. Should we be in a parking lot with other cars as to blend in? What about light? What looks suspicious? Will the cops in this city really care, since we planned on keeping our clothes on? We finally narrowed it down to an abandoned little toy shop, with one light. We parked in the back of the lot, but were still pretty near the road, but not enough for anyone to really see us.
I reached into the bag...did I mention the bag? The bag was full of a few treats from previous tickling adventures with her. We had the velcro cuffs she bought, a regular belt, a belt/rope from a pair of my pajamas, feathers, markers, and a handkerchief I was hoping to not use. Luckily that worked out.
I, am a wuss. I tend to care about my girlfriend, and in doing so, haven't had the testicular balls to break her at this point (foreshadowing?), so before being tied she specifically said "I want you to break me." Which sent shivers into shiverless realms. So needless to say, I manned the fuck up, and was pretty in the horror zone.
Of important significance, she is much more of lee than I, though we're both fond of either. Because of our highest excitement at her being tied, that's what we decided to do first. My head rests are the kind with only one solid bar in the middle, so she sat in the backseat, feet up around the bars, where I used the velcro cuffs to keep her ankles in place. Then, we used the pajama belt, of which she masterfully tied the slipknots for, also around the metal bar. So picture her as a stereotypical hobo travel bag, and the head rest as the stick.
Shoes were not part of the equation. I tested the socks with light strokes, looking at her face. "Now, someone here told me that you're ticklish...I think it was you. And I think her feet were the worst..." Taunting continued, socks did not. After the socks were removed, I let her see my moonlit smirk turn villainous, wasting little time shredding my medium-length nails on the balls of her right foot, then left. This, of course, is a known worst spot/technique for her. The howls let loose in my old car, the windows already starting to steam. An added joy was hearing these loud, tortured laughs in full, as any time things got really bad we had to either use handkerchiefs, or play the ever-popular "quiet game." But not here. No one for quite a distance, and barely any cars driving by.
After a quick break, my pretty co-hort suggested we play the password game. In this, simple enough, we were going to try and get the Facebook password out of the other. Note that she reminded ME of this game right there. I love a beautiful masochist. So anyways, I started to work the letters out of her. I danced fingers around her arches, and got some real deep screams scratching her bare heels. One letter out.
I then put my mouth right on the center of one foot, took a little nibble, and used my teeth up and down on the helpless skin like fingers on a washboard. This got some of the most amazing howls yet, and another couple letters came. Who said I had to stop after she gave up a letter?
After a fourth letter (involving some toe nibbling), I decided to go in the back seat and tickle her upperbody and legs a bit. This horrible hobo sack position had her in pain, so we moved her legs to be free, ankles in my lap, and her jacket was ditched. I slide up, digging hard into her hip bones for the needed letters. More gotten. "the tickle monster is after you, I think he's got a thing for red heads" more gotten. This was a long password, one she probably regretted by now. I zapped and poked all over her sides and ribs, and only gave light chest attention. Enough to remind her their was plenty more after the password was given. I also managed to get my mouth on her neck, something that I never get the pleasure of doing. Before even starting she gave up 3 letters. More after that, as my mouth and beard buzzed on the side of her neck, tongue swishing and painting.
Then I moved back to her feet. After just kissing the arches, and tickling around her tendons, I was able to get the rest of the password. Was this the end? Why would it be the end? I then got to play the sexiest game of piggies I've ever done. After getting through 4/5 with special attention between the toes, I asked her what the fifth was. She said she didn't remember, so I just started right back at market to her dismay. Sometimes fingers, sometimes mouth. She wasn't in tears, but only because of how much she loved it. By the time they went wee wee wee all the way home, which followed by teeth scrapes up and down the arches as well as horizontal nails on the ball, she was a complete and utter mess. It was around this point that I let her go, which took a little discussion. She was thoroughly broken, and could barely talk or move. She tried to describe "head space" (the dangerous euphoria she was in), but failed completely.
After we opened the windows and rested a little while, it was my turn. She was still in her mid-high, and I was pretty nervous. I don't take bondage as well as she does. I think it amplifies for me more than her, and as previously acknowledged, I'm a wuss. She used her classic slipknots on my wrists, and tied them to the headrest above my head as I sat in the passenger's seat.
She took her time snaking out from the back seat. Her claws, nails she had grown out long specifically for the visit, were all I could look at. She started with some pokes to my ribs, then the pokes turned to vibrations. "awwww I wonder how many ribs you have?" were the beginning of the horrific baby voiced taunts, something she is fully aware gets to me. After playing with my ribs and sides, to load yells, she started to pull up my shirt a little. "FUCK YOU! FUCKING NO! HOW ABOUT NO!" "Aw what a dirty mouth on you. Little boys shouldn't use such bad words."
Technically, I flipped my shit. I kicked the dashboard hard when she landed on my stomach with only light touches, pulling myself down and stretched to my chagrin. Then she went for my arguably most ticklish spot: the dreaded armpits. Screams, gaffaws, a noise so high I've never heard it from my bass larynx. The fuck was that?
The party ended abruptly. A cop car, lights in heat, whipped by down the street. It didn't pull in, but we took this as a cue to untie me (wuss), gather our things and get the hell out of there. Of course the cop had a car pulled over as we left and drove by, and I doubt he saw us. But one must live to tickle another day.
This is a true story between a male and female, and I am writing from the male end of things. To avoid the common hilarity of fake names that we both know aren't real, I'll be sticking to the terms I/her/he/she.
We've had this idea for months on end, discussed in hypotheticals but leaving enough room for anything to happen. The idea was to have her, my pretty red headed girlfriend, in the backseat of my car with her feet trapped in the passenger seat head rest, tied securely. Being that I'm in a bustling city with little rural surrounding, finding an appropriate place was bound to be...hard. So we decided to make looking around part of the suspense, the perverted build.
That's about as far as we got aside from a few clothing preferences. I was in a black shirt with a button down long sleeve over it, and her in a grey jacket, jeans and soft shirt when we were in my car, scouting out a part of the city we hoped would work. It was a run-down but not dangerous part of the city, one where we had gotten a hotel a few times during earlier visits. If all else failed we could go there, but that wasn't the case.
We noted a couple small, desolate spots. This was of course risky, and we're paranoid people. Should we be in a parking lot with other cars as to blend in? What about light? What looks suspicious? Will the cops in this city really care, since we planned on keeping our clothes on? We finally narrowed it down to an abandoned little toy shop, with one light. We parked in the back of the lot, but were still pretty near the road, but not enough for anyone to really see us.
I reached into the bag...did I mention the bag? The bag was full of a few treats from previous tickling adventures with her. We had the velcro cuffs she bought, a regular belt, a belt/rope from a pair of my pajamas, feathers, markers, and a handkerchief I was hoping to not use. Luckily that worked out.
I, am a wuss. I tend to care about my girlfriend, and in doing so, haven't had the testicular balls to break her at this point (foreshadowing?), so before being tied she specifically said "I want you to break me." Which sent shivers into shiverless realms. So needless to say, I manned the fuck up, and was pretty in the horror zone.
Of important significance, she is much more of lee than I, though we're both fond of either. Because of our highest excitement at her being tied, that's what we decided to do first. My head rests are the kind with only one solid bar in the middle, so she sat in the backseat, feet up around the bars, where I used the velcro cuffs to keep her ankles in place. Then, we used the pajama belt, of which she masterfully tied the slipknots for, also around the metal bar. So picture her as a stereotypical hobo travel bag, and the head rest as the stick.
Shoes were not part of the equation. I tested the socks with light strokes, looking at her face. "Now, someone here told me that you're ticklish...I think it was you. And I think her feet were the worst..." Taunting continued, socks did not. After the socks were removed, I let her see my moonlit smirk turn villainous, wasting little time shredding my medium-length nails on the balls of her right foot, then left. This, of course, is a known worst spot/technique for her. The howls let loose in my old car, the windows already starting to steam. An added joy was hearing these loud, tortured laughs in full, as any time things got really bad we had to either use handkerchiefs, or play the ever-popular "quiet game." But not here. No one for quite a distance, and barely any cars driving by.
After a quick break, my pretty co-hort suggested we play the password game. In this, simple enough, we were going to try and get the Facebook password out of the other. Note that she reminded ME of this game right there. I love a beautiful masochist. So anyways, I started to work the letters out of her. I danced fingers around her arches, and got some real deep screams scratching her bare heels. One letter out.
I then put my mouth right on the center of one foot, took a little nibble, and used my teeth up and down on the helpless skin like fingers on a washboard. This got some of the most amazing howls yet, and another couple letters came. Who said I had to stop after she gave up a letter?
After a fourth letter (involving some toe nibbling), I decided to go in the back seat and tickle her upperbody and legs a bit. This horrible hobo sack position had her in pain, so we moved her legs to be free, ankles in my lap, and her jacket was ditched. I slide up, digging hard into her hip bones for the needed letters. More gotten. "the tickle monster is after you, I think he's got a thing for red heads" more gotten. This was a long password, one she probably regretted by now. I zapped and poked all over her sides and ribs, and only gave light chest attention. Enough to remind her their was plenty more after the password was given. I also managed to get my mouth on her neck, something that I never get the pleasure of doing. Before even starting she gave up 3 letters. More after that, as my mouth and beard buzzed on the side of her neck, tongue swishing and painting.
Then I moved back to her feet. After just kissing the arches, and tickling around her tendons, I was able to get the rest of the password. Was this the end? Why would it be the end? I then got to play the sexiest game of piggies I've ever done. After getting through 4/5 with special attention between the toes, I asked her what the fifth was. She said she didn't remember, so I just started right back at market to her dismay. Sometimes fingers, sometimes mouth. She wasn't in tears, but only because of how much she loved it. By the time they went wee wee wee all the way home, which followed by teeth scrapes up and down the arches as well as horizontal nails on the ball, she was a complete and utter mess. It was around this point that I let her go, which took a little discussion. She was thoroughly broken, and could barely talk or move. She tried to describe "head space" (the dangerous euphoria she was in), but failed completely.
After we opened the windows and rested a little while, it was my turn. She was still in her mid-high, and I was pretty nervous. I don't take bondage as well as she does. I think it amplifies for me more than her, and as previously acknowledged, I'm a wuss. She used her classic slipknots on my wrists, and tied them to the headrest above my head as I sat in the passenger's seat.
She took her time snaking out from the back seat. Her claws, nails she had grown out long specifically for the visit, were all I could look at. She started with some pokes to my ribs, then the pokes turned to vibrations. "awwww I wonder how many ribs you have?" were the beginning of the horrific baby voiced taunts, something she is fully aware gets to me. After playing with my ribs and sides, to load yells, she started to pull up my shirt a little. "FUCK YOU! FUCKING NO! HOW ABOUT NO!" "Aw what a dirty mouth on you. Little boys shouldn't use such bad words."
Technically, I flipped my shit. I kicked the dashboard hard when she landed on my stomach with only light touches, pulling myself down and stretched to my chagrin. Then she went for my arguably most ticklish spot: the dreaded armpits. Screams, gaffaws, a noise so high I've never heard it from my bass larynx. The fuck was that?
The party ended abruptly. A cop car, lights in heat, whipped by down the street. It didn't pull in, but we took this as a cue to untie me (wuss), gather our things and get the hell out of there. Of course the cop had a car pulled over as we left and drove by, and I doubt he saw us. But one must live to tickle another day.
