alwayslaughing
2nd Level Yellow Feather
- Joined
- Sep 6, 2003
- Messages
- 3,433
- Points
- 38
This is a series. Part one is here. Part two is here. Part three is here.
-Turnabout Is Fair Play-
I finished securing Camille in the cuffs, just as she’d done to me the week before. Like she’d done, I’d also tested the strength of each new cuffed limb with a quick tickle. Judging by the reactions, this was going to be fun, at least for me. I’d let her keep her shirt and a pair of jeans over her underwear and bra, at least for now. I had plans for some of those items later. We’d established a few ground rules, the most important being that ‘stop’ meant ‘stop’. I’d agreed wholeheartedly.
“Alright, here’s how this works,” I began.
She arched an eyebrow at me, daring me to continue.
I ignored her. “I’ll start slow and you can let me know how it’s going. Green means you’re okay. Yellow means you need a pause. A pause can be up to 60 seconds. Red means stop, and a stop lasts until you say go.”
“That seems fair,” she said.
“Furthermore, any yellow or red that you give me means that I get to remove something you’re wearing.”
“Fine.”
“When you’re done removing all of your clothing, I get to tickle you as much as I want. With breaks when you need them of course.”
“Okay.”
“At some point I’ll…switch my tactics. And anytime after this that you say the word ‘pink’, I’ll know you’re ready for the grand finale.” I looked pointedly at her crotch.
“Pink?” A small smile teased at the corner of her lips.
“Is that a problem for you?”
“No, that will work.”
I started by gently squeezing her knees. It was devastating when she did it to me and I wanted to know if she was susceptible to the same treatment. Turns out, she was. I made her take off her heels, which she’d insisted on wearing to bed. Since I was at her feet anyway, it seemed like a good time to break out some tools.
I pulled her toes back with one hand and held the hair brush in my other. “Are you ready?” I looked at her and she nodded. I turned back towards her feet and began to drag the brush across her foot and she immediately began pulling at her bonds. I heard a low, desperate giggle coming from behind me. “Fuck,” I heard her whisper. Bingo, I thought. I gave the other foot the same treatment and received a similar result. I continued this attack for several moments. When I felt she’d had enough, I put the brush down.
“Let’s see how you like this one,” I said, doing my best to hide the electric toothbrush from her view. As soon as I clicked it on though, she knew exactly what it was. I began to prod at her toes with it and she started giggling again. “Oh shit,” she said.
“Oh, shit, is right,” I agreed, and didn’t stop. She tried to pull her foot away from me but the combination of the restraints and my iron grip kept her from going far. I pried her toes apart and wiggled the toothbrush in between them. She did her best to scrunch up her toes, but I was stronger.
“Yellow,” she gasped at last. I grinned, and told her I was going to remove her jeans. She agreed. By the time I had her re-secured, I was ready for a new trick. I opened the small case and slipped a banjo pick onto each of my fingers, adjusting them to make sure they were tight enough not to slip off, but not so tight as to cut off my circulation. It was a delicate balance.
“I seem to remember you enjoyed tickling here,” I said as I dug into the middle of her feet with my improvised claws.
She thrashed her foot around cackling a bit. “Ooh, I think she likes that one,” I said. She shook her head no, but kept laughing.
I repeated the process with the other foot.
“I hate you,” she managed to get out between laughs.
“You hate me now, but wait until later,” I said.
After another “yellow” I helped her remove her shirt, revealing her lacy bra underneath. It was time to shift tactics, I thought. I brought my thumbs gently across her ribs and found a spot I was looking for along the front side. I slowly began to dig in and she immediately started thrashing in her bonds again. “Holy shit that tickles,” she cackled as she tried vainly to twist away from me.
“That’s the point,” I replied, leaning over to keep her pinned where I wanted her.
“Fuck off, you bastard,” she said, her laughter only slightly spoiling the sentiment.
I switched up my technique, grazing her sides and tweaking her hips. She settled into a lighter, occasional giggle, twitching her hips against my touch. I let my fingers glide up her sides and then dug into her ribs again. I was rewarded with another “yellow”.
I grinned at her.
“Shit,” she said. “What am I losing this time?”
“Bra,” I said.
“Fine.”
I unfastened her bra, tugging it over her arms and letting it rest there instead of removing it entirely. I traced my fingertips across her breasts, teasing her. She stiffened and I grinned. “No, we’re not going there, not yet,” I said. I placed my fingertips at her elbows and began to lightly tickle down towards her underarms as she tried to twist away to no avail. “I seem to remember someone else enjoying this very much,” I said. “And it is fun,” I admitted. Each time she squirmed, I moved my fingers back up to her elbows and began again. By the time my fingers finally found her armpits, she’d almost had enough.
I blew a couple raspberries on her tummy as she swore at me softly, and then placed my fingers on her hips. “Sometimes,” I started, “There’s a spot just inside the hips that drives people mad.” I let my fingers slide into the creases between her thighs and groin to illustrate my point. She tried very hard to squeeze my fingers away, but this of course did not work. I kept my fingers moving, along her thighs, back up into her creases, tweaking her hips. She held out for several minutes before finally grunting “Yellow” between clenched teeth.
I tugged her underwear off and then grinned. “I’ll tell you what. You’ve done well so far; I’ll go ahead and give you a break.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“I remember reading that you were into erotic photography,” I said as I unfastened her cuff straps so she could sit up and drink some water.
“Yeah, it’s something I’ve been curious about,” she agreed.
“What if I took some photos of you with your phone? That way they wouldn’t get out anywhere if you didn’t want them to, and you could kinda see what you think about it.”
She shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
I waited until she’d finished her drink and then recuffed her. I took a few shots of her in that pose and over the next twenty minutes or so, we unfastened and refastened the restraints as she took on various poses. When we thought we had enough, I returned her phone.
“If you find any you like, you could always send me one or two.”
“Oh, I could, could I?”
“Sure, if you wanted.”
“Well, I’m glad I have your permission.” She smirked a bit.
“I can see you’ve had enough of a break,” I said, rising to begin again.
She sighed. “Fine, do what you have to.”
I resecured her wrists and ankles and started tickling at her hips again to get her warmed up. She protested a bit, but some of it was lost in the giggles that followed. She cleared her throat as if about to say something important, but whatever came out was lost as I scampered my fingers across her inner thighs. She grunted and giggled at the same time and sort of thrust her hips up at me. I kept tickling as I looked up at her, grinning at her predicament.
She looked at me, somehow managing to grimace and giggle at once, and said “Pink” through clenched teeth.
I stopped at once and sat back on my haunches. “You sure?”
“Yes, pink you bastard. Pink.”
“Alright, alright.” I couldn’t help smiling again.
I lowered my face between her thighs and she let me work. While I worked, I held her hips with one hand and allowed the other to wander a little bit. I was rewarded with a couple of wiggles, but for the most part she ignored what the hand was doing in favor of what my tongue and lips were doing. At one point, the fingers on my free hand wandered across her belly and she turned to the side as though she could shake them off. I stopped for a moment, almost choking with laughter and she moaned in frustration. Taking the hint, I resumed what I’d been doing. As she got close, she began to tense up and I felt her hips lift slightly.
After it was over, she lay there, still trembling slightly and catching her breath as I undid her cuffs. “I’m going to have to think up something special to get you back for this,” she said.
“Don’t put yourself at any special effort,” I pretended to protest.
“I think I already know exactly what to do.” But she wouldn’t elaborate further and I would have to wait a few weeks to find out what it was.
To Be Continued...(Part Five)
-Turnabout Is Fair Play-
I finished securing Camille in the cuffs, just as she’d done to me the week before. Like she’d done, I’d also tested the strength of each new cuffed limb with a quick tickle. Judging by the reactions, this was going to be fun, at least for me. I’d let her keep her shirt and a pair of jeans over her underwear and bra, at least for now. I had plans for some of those items later. We’d established a few ground rules, the most important being that ‘stop’ meant ‘stop’. I’d agreed wholeheartedly.
“Alright, here’s how this works,” I began.
She arched an eyebrow at me, daring me to continue.
I ignored her. “I’ll start slow and you can let me know how it’s going. Green means you’re okay. Yellow means you need a pause. A pause can be up to 60 seconds. Red means stop, and a stop lasts until you say go.”
“That seems fair,” she said.
“Furthermore, any yellow or red that you give me means that I get to remove something you’re wearing.”
“Fine.”
“When you’re done removing all of your clothing, I get to tickle you as much as I want. With breaks when you need them of course.”
“Okay.”
“At some point I’ll…switch my tactics. And anytime after this that you say the word ‘pink’, I’ll know you’re ready for the grand finale.” I looked pointedly at her crotch.
“Pink?” A small smile teased at the corner of her lips.
“Is that a problem for you?”
“No, that will work.”
I started by gently squeezing her knees. It was devastating when she did it to me and I wanted to know if she was susceptible to the same treatment. Turns out, she was. I made her take off her heels, which she’d insisted on wearing to bed. Since I was at her feet anyway, it seemed like a good time to break out some tools.
I pulled her toes back with one hand and held the hair brush in my other. “Are you ready?” I looked at her and she nodded. I turned back towards her feet and began to drag the brush across her foot and she immediately began pulling at her bonds. I heard a low, desperate giggle coming from behind me. “Fuck,” I heard her whisper. Bingo, I thought. I gave the other foot the same treatment and received a similar result. I continued this attack for several moments. When I felt she’d had enough, I put the brush down.
“Let’s see how you like this one,” I said, doing my best to hide the electric toothbrush from her view. As soon as I clicked it on though, she knew exactly what it was. I began to prod at her toes with it and she started giggling again. “Oh shit,” she said.
“Oh, shit, is right,” I agreed, and didn’t stop. She tried to pull her foot away from me but the combination of the restraints and my iron grip kept her from going far. I pried her toes apart and wiggled the toothbrush in between them. She did her best to scrunch up her toes, but I was stronger.
“Yellow,” she gasped at last. I grinned, and told her I was going to remove her jeans. She agreed. By the time I had her re-secured, I was ready for a new trick. I opened the small case and slipped a banjo pick onto each of my fingers, adjusting them to make sure they were tight enough not to slip off, but not so tight as to cut off my circulation. It was a delicate balance.
“I seem to remember you enjoyed tickling here,” I said as I dug into the middle of her feet with my improvised claws.
She thrashed her foot around cackling a bit. “Ooh, I think she likes that one,” I said. She shook her head no, but kept laughing.
I repeated the process with the other foot.
“I hate you,” she managed to get out between laughs.
“You hate me now, but wait until later,” I said.
After another “yellow” I helped her remove her shirt, revealing her lacy bra underneath. It was time to shift tactics, I thought. I brought my thumbs gently across her ribs and found a spot I was looking for along the front side. I slowly began to dig in and she immediately started thrashing in her bonds again. “Holy shit that tickles,” she cackled as she tried vainly to twist away from me.
“That’s the point,” I replied, leaning over to keep her pinned where I wanted her.
“Fuck off, you bastard,” she said, her laughter only slightly spoiling the sentiment.
I switched up my technique, grazing her sides and tweaking her hips. She settled into a lighter, occasional giggle, twitching her hips against my touch. I let my fingers glide up her sides and then dug into her ribs again. I was rewarded with another “yellow”.
I grinned at her.
“Shit,” she said. “What am I losing this time?”
“Bra,” I said.
“Fine.”
I unfastened her bra, tugging it over her arms and letting it rest there instead of removing it entirely. I traced my fingertips across her breasts, teasing her. She stiffened and I grinned. “No, we’re not going there, not yet,” I said. I placed my fingertips at her elbows and began to lightly tickle down towards her underarms as she tried to twist away to no avail. “I seem to remember someone else enjoying this very much,” I said. “And it is fun,” I admitted. Each time she squirmed, I moved my fingers back up to her elbows and began again. By the time my fingers finally found her armpits, she’d almost had enough.
I blew a couple raspberries on her tummy as she swore at me softly, and then placed my fingers on her hips. “Sometimes,” I started, “There’s a spot just inside the hips that drives people mad.” I let my fingers slide into the creases between her thighs and groin to illustrate my point. She tried very hard to squeeze my fingers away, but this of course did not work. I kept my fingers moving, along her thighs, back up into her creases, tweaking her hips. She held out for several minutes before finally grunting “Yellow” between clenched teeth.
I tugged her underwear off and then grinned. “I’ll tell you what. You’ve done well so far; I’ll go ahead and give you a break.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“I remember reading that you were into erotic photography,” I said as I unfastened her cuff straps so she could sit up and drink some water.
“Yeah, it’s something I’ve been curious about,” she agreed.
“What if I took some photos of you with your phone? That way they wouldn’t get out anywhere if you didn’t want them to, and you could kinda see what you think about it.”
She shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
I waited until she’d finished her drink and then recuffed her. I took a few shots of her in that pose and over the next twenty minutes or so, we unfastened and refastened the restraints as she took on various poses. When we thought we had enough, I returned her phone.
“If you find any you like, you could always send me one or two.”
“Oh, I could, could I?”
“Sure, if you wanted.”
“Well, I’m glad I have your permission.” She smirked a bit.
“I can see you’ve had enough of a break,” I said, rising to begin again.
She sighed. “Fine, do what you have to.”
I resecured her wrists and ankles and started tickling at her hips again to get her warmed up. She protested a bit, but some of it was lost in the giggles that followed. She cleared her throat as if about to say something important, but whatever came out was lost as I scampered my fingers across her inner thighs. She grunted and giggled at the same time and sort of thrust her hips up at me. I kept tickling as I looked up at her, grinning at her predicament.
She looked at me, somehow managing to grimace and giggle at once, and said “Pink” through clenched teeth.
I stopped at once and sat back on my haunches. “You sure?”
“Yes, pink you bastard. Pink.”
“Alright, alright.” I couldn’t help smiling again.
I lowered my face between her thighs and she let me work. While I worked, I held her hips with one hand and allowed the other to wander a little bit. I was rewarded with a couple of wiggles, but for the most part she ignored what the hand was doing in favor of what my tongue and lips were doing. At one point, the fingers on my free hand wandered across her belly and she turned to the side as though she could shake them off. I stopped for a moment, almost choking with laughter and she moaned in frustration. Taking the hint, I resumed what I’d been doing. As she got close, she began to tense up and I felt her hips lift slightly.
After it was over, she lay there, still trembling slightly and catching her breath as I undid her cuffs. “I’m going to have to think up something special to get you back for this,” she said.
“Don’t put yourself at any special effort,” I pretended to protest.
“I think I already know exactly what to do.” But she wouldn’t elaborate further and I would have to wait a few weeks to find out what it was.
To Be Continued...(Part Five)
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