UpSide2Gravity
Verified
- Joined
- May 21, 2013
- Messages
- 83
- Points
- 8
I have had the immense pleasure of being graced, for a tickle torture roleplay session, by Mistress Ruby Riots while visiting San Francisco. The session, which was an hour, took place the day after I landed, 06/12/24, and it was the best way to kick everything off. Before, during, and after the session they were a consummate professional. They answered each email within 24hrs, every question I had was responded to in detail, and they completely put me at ease even before meeting. If you're in the Bay Area, please session with them.The premise of the role play was a college Professor and TA/PHD student scenario. I was the professor and Mistress portrayed the student. They had requested time off for something personal, but I denied them due to the timing of the request. They had used my laptop to enter grades and stumbled across my tickle fetish videos. Mistress then requested a meeting with me to use my fetish against me. They would bring up what was found, and then offer themselves to be tickled for the time off being approved. Hope y'all enjoy.
rubyriots.com
I can't believe how nervous I am. In the most literal sense, I'm in disbelief. I'm standing in front of a normal gate and I don't know how to open it. I mean, I see the latch and know how latches work, but fuck. There is a stampede in my belly and I'm all out of nets. It's hard to think. James! James, you're a veteran from the active infantry and was in Ramadi, Iraq in 05... Please open the latch. The latch opens, but I don't remember touching it. I had to though, because I'm walking up the steps, and now I knocking on a door. Holy shit I knocked!
The door opens and I walk through. My head begins veering in multiple directions. All the decor leans towards elevated Victorian and the lighting makes me feel like Bela Lugosi will be making an appearance. So, it's completely my vibe. I look to my left and see two couches with a glass of water in front of each one on a coffee table in another room. Did I mention I'm still nervous? I turn around and see them. They looked like a love child from the bands Minutemen & Refused, perfectly punk. They were completely covered in tattoos, wearing a sheer patterned dress with a sheer one piece underneath, and broken in silver Doc Martens with thick grey socks.
They walk me over to the coffee table and I immediately sit on the first cushion I see. Mistress offers me water. I decline, but I'm so thirsty. Why did I say no? Oh my Freya, Mistress must think I'm a putz. They sit on the same couch, with a cushion's distance between us, and I see my mistake. There are two glasses of water set, as I stated earlier. The first was set in front of Mistress, ya know, where they planned to sit. The second was placed where I should have been sitting, which was the second couch. Fuck, I'm not a putz, I'm a moron. Did I mention how nervous I am? They were so kind and the error was never addressed. We begin talking about the session and who would be tickled first, which would be them. Then later, get revenge as the scene naturally progresses. Though, when Mistress speaks, I can't help but be captivated. Their voice bordered on brujeria. Half calm, half Siren, with mischievousness nestled in the corners of their smirk. Then, a thought comes to mind. Honestly, I don't know how ticklish I am. I'm 6'1, muscular, long hair, large mustache with a small beard. Mistress is 5'5, some musculature, but much smaller than me. What can they do? Mistress excuses themself to check on something, but for the life of me I can't remember. I should really pay more attention, but now I'm alone. You know what I should do, and of course it won't make anything weird? I should move to the couch I was originally meant to sit in. Yeah, they won't notice... I'll just drink water and that'll make everything look natural. They walk back in, obviously noticing me in the proper place, and smirks all the while I'm I'm drinking my water.
Mistress asks me on a tour, not only because I'm pretty sure it's standard protocol, but also to assist in loosening me up. Words are being exchanged and I'm nodding a little too much as we venture from room to room, but I don't know what else to do. I have so many stupid questions. Like, "Am I allowed to look at Mistress?" Or, "I wonder how much they can bench?" Did I mention how nervous I am? Come on James, stay on task and be present. Mistress brings me into a bedroom with hard bondage points on each bedpost. This is it. This is where the tickling will take place. They bring me to the first room during the tour. There is a metal cage about 3ft x 7ft, large enough to fit my big ass, resting perfectly in the center, with leather padding utop. How did I not notice this? Mistress walks to the left and points out all the tickle tools laying on a side table. They glide their fingertips along each one. A hair brush, tooth brush, feathers, and a head scratcher. I ask to be excused to run towards my bag. I pull out a Sonicare toothbrush and a grooming glove, run back and place them with the others. Mistress calls my name and asks if I'd like to begin. I look at them, but my voice decides to play hide n' seek. It takes every bit of my will power to say, "Yes Mistress."
We're in the room with the cage, they are slightly leaning against it, and Mistress drops immediately into character. They are looking at me as if they know exactly how to get what they want, and I can't get enough of of that stare.
Mistress: I submitted my time off request a while ago, but just saw you denied it. What's up?
Mistress slowly inches closer to me. My goosebumps turn to braille and if I'm touched, they'd be able to read my skin. I scoot away, but barely.
Me: Yeah, I saw the request and am so sorry. You're asking for time off in the middle of the semester. A few of your colleagues also requested for time off as well, but everyone was denied. Check in with me in a few months when everything is winding down.
They look at me more intently, as if wondering about the next move.
Mistress: Well, the thing is I already had plans and I can't really break them.
Me: Once again, I'm so sorry, but we so much work to complete. You take as much time as you'd like at the end of the semester.
They tilt their chin without breaking eye contact. The grin returns. Devils have the most ravishing smiles.
Mistress: I totally get it, but here's the thing. While I was entering grades, on your work laptop, I came across some videos. They were of women getting tickled.
My heart skips so much you'd swear it's was being thrown across water. I inch a little further away.
Me: I'm so sorry you had to see those videos. I'll open an investigation and see who was using my laptop while I wasn't.
They inch towards me.
Mistress: Yeah, I appreciate that. But the thing is, this isn't the first time I've found those videos. Not only that, the download times corelate with the times you were using it. So how do you explain it?
I literally begin to stutter. It's no act. I have a speech impediment which I control very well. I have performed poetry in front of hundreds without even a stammer, but this person has me two-stepping with every word trying to leave my mouth.
Me: Uh, uh, uh, I...
Mistress: It's okay, it really is. How about this. We both want something the either wants. I want time, and you want tickles. How about we trade?
Their smile has become Cheshire and I am walking through the looking glass. I take two steps forward, closing the gap between us, and I'm looking down at Mistress.
Me: I don't think you understand what you're asking. I don't playfully tickle. I enjoy finding where you're most ticklish and make you bellow. Are you sure you want this?
They look at me with what I can only describe as lustful. They prop themselves onto the cage so they're sitting on it, boots dangling above the floor.
Mistress: I want you to tickle me.
Me: Then put your arms up.
They put their arms above their head and I slowly begin to lightly tickle from the elbow to their armpit. They are all natural and I can't get enough of them. In my head the song New Noise begins to play. I have Mistress on the verge of laughter as my fingers continue to galavant through out their armpits. My hands make their way to their ribs. Just lightly tickling them, but not much of a reaction. Then I get to their sides and eureka. Mistress let's out a squeal. Their laughter sounds like honey. I back off, but make a mental note.
Me: I would love to tickle your feet.
Mistress: Then my feet you will tickle.
They begin to untie their Doc Martens. I can't help but be captivated, mesmerized even. I feel like Mogli when he's in the clutches of. I hear a THUD and I'm brought back to reality. Mistress dropped one of their Docs and flexes their toes, slightly wiggling them from beneath thick grey socks. And here I am, staring as they flex their arch. Holy Freya, I didn't even notice Mistress was half way through removing the other. THUD, and the the boot was on the floor. They flex their foot, wiggle their toes, and begins to swing them back and forth. I don't why, but I fell to one knee. It was almost automatic. I haven't genuflected since I was 17. Hear I am thinking, "Am I not supposed to kneel before a Queen?" I look up and Mistress is smiling.
rubyriots.com
I can't believe how nervous I am. In the most literal sense, I'm in disbelief. I'm standing in front of a normal gate and I don't know how to open it. I mean, I see the latch and know how latches work, but fuck. There is a stampede in my belly and I'm all out of nets. It's hard to think. James! James, you're a veteran from the active infantry and was in Ramadi, Iraq in 05... Please open the latch. The latch opens, but I don't remember touching it. I had to though, because I'm walking up the steps, and now I knocking on a door. Holy shit I knocked!
The door opens and I walk through. My head begins veering in multiple directions. All the decor leans towards elevated Victorian and the lighting makes me feel like Bela Lugosi will be making an appearance. So, it's completely my vibe. I look to my left and see two couches with a glass of water in front of each one on a coffee table in another room. Did I mention I'm still nervous? I turn around and see them. They looked like a love child from the bands Minutemen & Refused, perfectly punk. They were completely covered in tattoos, wearing a sheer patterned dress with a sheer one piece underneath, and broken in silver Doc Martens with thick grey socks.
They walk me over to the coffee table and I immediately sit on the first cushion I see. Mistress offers me water. I decline, but I'm so thirsty. Why did I say no? Oh my Freya, Mistress must think I'm a putz. They sit on the same couch, with a cushion's distance between us, and I see my mistake. There are two glasses of water set, as I stated earlier. The first was set in front of Mistress, ya know, where they planned to sit. The second was placed where I should have been sitting, which was the second couch. Fuck, I'm not a putz, I'm a moron. Did I mention how nervous I am? They were so kind and the error was never addressed. We begin talking about the session and who would be tickled first, which would be them. Then later, get revenge as the scene naturally progresses. Though, when Mistress speaks, I can't help but be captivated. Their voice bordered on brujeria. Half calm, half Siren, with mischievousness nestled in the corners of their smirk. Then, a thought comes to mind. Honestly, I don't know how ticklish I am. I'm 6'1, muscular, long hair, large mustache with a small beard. Mistress is 5'5, some musculature, but much smaller than me. What can they do? Mistress excuses themself to check on something, but for the life of me I can't remember. I should really pay more attention, but now I'm alone. You know what I should do, and of course it won't make anything weird? I should move to the couch I was originally meant to sit in. Yeah, they won't notice... I'll just drink water and that'll make everything look natural. They walk back in, obviously noticing me in the proper place, and smirks all the while I'm I'm drinking my water.
Mistress asks me on a tour, not only because I'm pretty sure it's standard protocol, but also to assist in loosening me up. Words are being exchanged and I'm nodding a little too much as we venture from room to room, but I don't know what else to do. I have so many stupid questions. Like, "Am I allowed to look at Mistress?" Or, "I wonder how much they can bench?" Did I mention how nervous I am? Come on James, stay on task and be present. Mistress brings me into a bedroom with hard bondage points on each bedpost. This is it. This is where the tickling will take place. They bring me to the first room during the tour. There is a metal cage about 3ft x 7ft, large enough to fit my big ass, resting perfectly in the center, with leather padding utop. How did I not notice this? Mistress walks to the left and points out all the tickle tools laying on a side table. They glide their fingertips along each one. A hair brush, tooth brush, feathers, and a head scratcher. I ask to be excused to run towards my bag. I pull out a Sonicare toothbrush and a grooming glove, run back and place them with the others. Mistress calls my name and asks if I'd like to begin. I look at them, but my voice decides to play hide n' seek. It takes every bit of my will power to say, "Yes Mistress."
We're in the room with the cage, they are slightly leaning against it, and Mistress drops immediately into character. They are looking at me as if they know exactly how to get what they want, and I can't get enough of of that stare.
Mistress: I submitted my time off request a while ago, but just saw you denied it. What's up?
Mistress slowly inches closer to me. My goosebumps turn to braille and if I'm touched, they'd be able to read my skin. I scoot away, but barely.
Me: Yeah, I saw the request and am so sorry. You're asking for time off in the middle of the semester. A few of your colleagues also requested for time off as well, but everyone was denied. Check in with me in a few months when everything is winding down.
They look at me more intently, as if wondering about the next move.
Mistress: Well, the thing is I already had plans and I can't really break them.
Me: Once again, I'm so sorry, but we so much work to complete. You take as much time as you'd like at the end of the semester.
They tilt their chin without breaking eye contact. The grin returns. Devils have the most ravishing smiles.
Mistress: I totally get it, but here's the thing. While I was entering grades, on your work laptop, I came across some videos. They were of women getting tickled.
My heart skips so much you'd swear it's was being thrown across water. I inch a little further away.
Me: I'm so sorry you had to see those videos. I'll open an investigation and see who was using my laptop while I wasn't.
They inch towards me.
Mistress: Yeah, I appreciate that. But the thing is, this isn't the first time I've found those videos. Not only that, the download times corelate with the times you were using it. So how do you explain it?
I literally begin to stutter. It's no act. I have a speech impediment which I control very well. I have performed poetry in front of hundreds without even a stammer, but this person has me two-stepping with every word trying to leave my mouth.
Me: Uh, uh, uh, I...
Mistress: It's okay, it really is. How about this. We both want something the either wants. I want time, and you want tickles. How about we trade?
Their smile has become Cheshire and I am walking through the looking glass. I take two steps forward, closing the gap between us, and I'm looking down at Mistress.
Me: I don't think you understand what you're asking. I don't playfully tickle. I enjoy finding where you're most ticklish and make you bellow. Are you sure you want this?
They look at me with what I can only describe as lustful. They prop themselves onto the cage so they're sitting on it, boots dangling above the floor.
Mistress: I want you to tickle me.
Me: Then put your arms up.
They put their arms above their head and I slowly begin to lightly tickle from the elbow to their armpit. They are all natural and I can't get enough of them. In my head the song New Noise begins to play. I have Mistress on the verge of laughter as my fingers continue to galavant through out their armpits. My hands make their way to their ribs. Just lightly tickling them, but not much of a reaction. Then I get to their sides and eureka. Mistress let's out a squeal. Their laughter sounds like honey. I back off, but make a mental note.
Me: I would love to tickle your feet.
Mistress: Then my feet you will tickle.
They begin to untie their Doc Martens. I can't help but be captivated, mesmerized even. I feel like Mogli when he's in the clutches of. I hear a THUD and I'm brought back to reality. Mistress dropped one of their Docs and flexes their toes, slightly wiggling them from beneath thick grey socks. And here I am, staring as they flex their arch. Holy Freya, I didn't even notice Mistress was half way through removing the other. THUD, and the the boot was on the floor. They flex their foot, wiggle their toes, and begins to swing them back and forth. I don't why, but I fell to one knee. It was almost automatic. I haven't genuflected since I was 17. Hear I am thinking, "Am I not supposed to kneel before a Queen?" I look up and Mistress is smiling.
