TKFeathers
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W
<i> Done </i>
<i> Done </i>
Last edited:
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The Nude Beach Incident (FM/M Very Non-Con)
- Thread starter TKFeathers
- Start date
purple2306
TMF Expert
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Really hope to read more, I really liked the first part.
milagros317
Wielder of 500 Feathers
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Great story! Where is this beach which seems to be full of tickling enthusiasts? 😀
SteveTicklish
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Absolutely love this story! I agree with milagros; I need to know where this is!
ticklishfan
3rd Level Yellow Feather
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- Apr 23, 2004
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Great story!! Would love a sequel or another similar story!
JoePTickle
1st Level Red Feather
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I loved this creative concept! I’m generally not an M/M fan but the utter helplessness when the man immobilized the shaft so he and the woman could playfully tickle torture its underside gave me chills. Manicured nails and electric toothbrush on shaved privates. Relentless gleeful determined orgasmic team-tickling a mortified desperately resisting and doomed lee, followed by round 2. So many perfect elements! Bravo!
firstedition196
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No story found. Click bait.
vainbetrayer
TMF Regular
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There used to be one here, but it looks like the OP took it down.
Wonder if someone that saved if can repost it 🤔
Wonder if someone that saved if can repost it 🤔
“There,” Kelly Smith said, patting the wet sand. “All done.”
Mark Jones, buried to the neck, stared at his girlfriend. Kelly, in her forties, still commanded attention on this nude beach. Her breasts, hardened nipples pointing directly at him, sent a jolt of arousal through him.
“Ice cream!” a voice called. “Delicious ice cream!”
“Ooh!” Kelly squealed, running off. “Ice cream!”
“H-honey!” Mark called, watching her go.
“Don’t worry, honey!” she shouted back. “I’ll get you one too!”
Naked, buried, and surrounded by laughing onlookers, Mark sighed, wiggling his feet. Useless. He craned his neck, staring at the sky.
I hope she comes back soon… he thought.
“Would you look at this babe!” a male voice said.
“Looks like he needs some help!” a female voice added.
Mark saw a naked man and woman, both in their early twenties. The man was lean and muscular, his penis, though flaccid, impressive. The woman was stunning, her breasts perky, her pubic mound smooth.
“How’d you end up like this, brother?” the woman asked, kneeling.
“My girlfriend…”
“Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be left alone like this?” the man added.
Before Mark could respond, something soft brushed his foot.
“Hey!” he shouted.
“You see,” the man grinned, tracing Mark’s sole with his finger. “You can’t even defend yourself.” He continued to explore the sole of Mark's foot, making him curl his toes. The man quickly pulled back his toes with his other hand and started to wildly scrape his fingers over the quivering flesh.
“Ah ha,” the man teased. “That’s a penalty.” His fingers explored every inch of Mark's foot.
“Ooh ooh, let me try!” the woman exclaimed, kneeling to tickle Mark's other foot.
Mark’s face flushed red as the woman’s nails scratched his foot. Unlike the man, she let his foot thrash wildly as she playfully raked her nails across his skin.
“What a ticklish foot!” she teased. “No matter how much you squirm, I’m gonna’ get you!”
Mark laughed uncontrollably as the couple assaulted his feet. The beachgoers watched.
“I wonder if he’s completely naked under there?” the man asked.
The woman dug, reaching Mark's groin. She brushed away sand, tickling him. Mark giggled, telling them not to touch his “private parts.”
“We’re not done yet, babe,” the man said, looking at the hole his girlfriend had made. He returned with a cup, pouring water over Mark's mound.
“That’s cold!” Mark cried as his penis twitched.
The woman teased his penis with her nails. The man squeezed his penis. The woman spider-tickled his penis while the man gently parted his cheeks with his finger. Mark laughed uncontrollably, oblivious to the aroused crowd. Hardened penises and nipples were being touched and teased.
Mark, wondering where Kelly was, laughed as his penis and feet were tickled.
“Look what I found!” another woman said, holding seagull feathers. She gave two to the other woman, kneeling by Mark. As the feathers stroked his soles, the man smiled, handing a feather to his girlfriend. She touched the feather to Mark’s penis.
“Tickle, tickle, tickle, all over his ticklish cock!” she sang, twirling the feather.
“Let me join!” the man said. To Mark’s horror, he felt the man's finger invade his anus.
It was madness. He felt every thrust of the finger, while the feather flicked against his penis. The woman alternated between his feet, using the feather on one, her nails on the other. Mark shook violently, exploding in ecstasy. After a moment, he felt his feet being tickled again. Two more men were there, one tickling his right foot, taunting him with "Coochie coochie coo," the other his left. They asked which foot was more ticklish.
The couple resumed their assault. The man tickled Mark’s abdomen, his girlfriend his penis. More people joined in. Two young men said, “Let’s get a look at his chest!” They moved the sand, exposing Mark's chest. The nightmare continued.
When Kelly returned, she was pushed down, held by horny beachgoers. The ice cream vendor tickled her stomach while two older men tickled her feet. At least two dozen naked beachgoers were assaulting them both.
Mark saw Kelly being held down, tickled by a dozen people. As she laughed and begged, the assault continued. The crowd dug Mark out. Two young men played with his breasts and nipples. His clit was rubbed as the man finger-fucked him. Six people tickled his feet.
Mark felt another orgasm building. He heard Kelly moaning, laughing, and screaming before he had another massive orgasm and passed out.
It would be a long night for Mark and Kelly.
Mark Jones, buried to the neck, stared at his girlfriend. Kelly, in her forties, still commanded attention on this nude beach. Her breasts, hardened nipples pointing directly at him, sent a jolt of arousal through him.
“Ice cream!” a voice called. “Delicious ice cream!”
“Ooh!” Kelly squealed, running off. “Ice cream!”
“H-honey!” Mark called, watching her go.
“Don’t worry, honey!” she shouted back. “I’ll get you one too!”
Naked, buried, and surrounded by laughing onlookers, Mark sighed, wiggling his feet. Useless. He craned his neck, staring at the sky.
I hope she comes back soon… he thought.
“Would you look at this babe!” a male voice said.
“Looks like he needs some help!” a female voice added.
Mark saw a naked man and woman, both in their early twenties. The man was lean and muscular, his penis, though flaccid, impressive. The woman was stunning, her breasts perky, her pubic mound smooth.
“How’d you end up like this, brother?” the woman asked, kneeling.
“My girlfriend…”
“Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be left alone like this?” the man added.
Before Mark could respond, something soft brushed his foot.
“Hey!” he shouted.
“You see,” the man grinned, tracing Mark’s sole with his finger. “You can’t even defend yourself.” He continued to explore the sole of Mark's foot, making him curl his toes. The man quickly pulled back his toes with his other hand and started to wildly scrape his fingers over the quivering flesh.
“Ah ha,” the man teased. “That’s a penalty.” His fingers explored every inch of Mark's foot.
“Ooh ooh, let me try!” the woman exclaimed, kneeling to tickle Mark's other foot.
Mark’s face flushed red as the woman’s nails scratched his foot. Unlike the man, she let his foot thrash wildly as she playfully raked her nails across his skin.
“What a ticklish foot!” she teased. “No matter how much you squirm, I’m gonna’ get you!”
Mark laughed uncontrollably as the couple assaulted his feet. The beachgoers watched.
“I wonder if he’s completely naked under there?” the man asked.
The woman dug, reaching Mark's groin. She brushed away sand, tickling him. Mark giggled, telling them not to touch his “private parts.”
“We’re not done yet, babe,” the man said, looking at the hole his girlfriend had made. He returned with a cup, pouring water over Mark's mound.
“That’s cold!” Mark cried as his penis twitched.
The woman teased his penis with her nails. The man squeezed his penis. The woman spider-tickled his penis while the man gently parted his cheeks with his finger. Mark laughed uncontrollably, oblivious to the aroused crowd. Hardened penises and nipples were being touched and teased.
Mark, wondering where Kelly was, laughed as his penis and feet were tickled.
“Look what I found!” another woman said, holding seagull feathers. She gave two to the other woman, kneeling by Mark. As the feathers stroked his soles, the man smiled, handing a feather to his girlfriend. She touched the feather to Mark’s penis.
“Tickle, tickle, tickle, all over his ticklish cock!” she sang, twirling the feather.
“Let me join!” the man said. To Mark’s horror, he felt the man's finger invade his anus.
It was madness. He felt every thrust of the finger, while the feather flicked against his penis. The woman alternated between his feet, using the feather on one, her nails on the other. Mark shook violently, exploding in ecstasy. After a moment, he felt his feet being tickled again. Two more men were there, one tickling his right foot, taunting him with "Coochie coochie coo," the other his left. They asked which foot was more ticklish.
The couple resumed their assault. The man tickled Mark’s abdomen, his girlfriend his penis. More people joined in. Two young men said, “Let’s get a look at his chest!” They moved the sand, exposing Mark's chest. The nightmare continued.
When Kelly returned, she was pushed down, held by horny beachgoers. The ice cream vendor tickled her stomach while two older men tickled her feet. At least two dozen naked beachgoers were assaulting them both.
Mark saw Kelly being held down, tickled by a dozen people. As she laughed and begged, the assault continued. The crowd dug Mark out. Two young men played with his breasts and nipples. His clit was rubbed as the man finger-fucked him. Six people tickled his feet.
Mark felt another orgasm building. He heard Kelly moaning, laughing, and screaming before he had another massive orgasm and passed out.
It would be a long night for Mark and Kelly.
Also had a crack at extending the copy I found online:
Chapter Two: Feathered Frenzy
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the beach as the playful chaos surrounding Mark and Kelly intensified. The crowd, now a writhing mass of naked bodies, had grown exponentially. The initial thrill of the unexpected had morphed into a frenzied, communal assault on the couple's senses, a delightful symphony of ticklish sensations. Mark, still dazed from his multiple orgasms, lay limp, his body a canvas for the relentless, exquisitely torturous tickling.
But Kelly, despite her own exhaustion, was about to experience a new level of delightful torment. Several strong hands, surprisingly gentle considering their purpose, dragged her away from Mark's side. She was pulled towards a sturdy, gnarled tree, its branches reaching skyward like skeletal fingers. With practiced efficiency, the crowd swiftly bound her wrists and ankles to the tree trunk, her body exposed and vulnerable, ready for the next wave of ticklish pleasure.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as the ice cream vendor, his eyes gleaming with malicious glee, produced a bundle of long, sharp seagull feathers. These weren't just any feathers; these were instruments of exquisite torture, their tips honed to a wicked point, perfect for delivering waves of intense ticklish sensations. The vendor grinned, a cruel smile splitting his face, and began to distribute the feathers amongst the eager crowd.
The first assault was subtle. A light caress of a feather against Kelly's inner thigh, a feather brushing against her clitoris, sending shivers of anticipation through her body. But the gentle touch quickly escalated into a full-blown assault. Dozens of feathers danced across her skin, tickling every sensitive nerve ending. Her stomach, her breasts, her inner thighs, her clitoris – no inch of her body was spared. Each tickle was a tiny explosion of sensation, building towards an overwhelming crescendo.
The crowd, a symphony of moans, giggles, and gasps, worked in a perverse harmony. Some feathers teased, others tormented. Some lightly stroked, while others dug deep, finding the most sensitive spots. The rhythm of the tickling intensified, building a crescendo of pleasure that pushed Kelly to the brink of madness. The feathers, wielded with expert precision, edged her closer and closer to the edge of orgasm, only to cruelly pull her back, leaving her writhing in frustrated anticipation. Her pleas intensified, "Please... make me cum! Please, I can't take it anymore!"
The ice cream vendor, his eyes fixed on Kelly's face, orchestrated the chaos. He directed the feather play, ensuring that the torment was perfectly balanced, maximizing Kelly's ecstasy. He knew exactly when to intensify the tickling, when to ease up, when to focus on a particularly sensitive area, and when to switch targets. He was a maestro of ticklish torture, and Kelly was his unwilling soloist. Her cries of "More! More! Oh god, please make me cum!" echoed across the beach.
As the night deepened, the intensity of the feather play reached a fever pitch. Kelly's body arched, her moans echoing across the beach. She was a marionette, her strings pulled by the relentless tickling, her body a vessel for the crowd's perverse desires. Tears streamed down her face, a mixture of pleasure and sheer terror. But even as she begged for release, a perverse thrill coursed through her veins. She was trapped, helpless, yet somehow, in control.
The climax arrived unexpectedly, a wave of pure, unadulterated ecstasy that washed over her. She convulsed, her body shaking violently as orgasm after orgasm ripped through her. The crowd roared its approval, their collective energy feeding into her own. When the final tremor subsided, Kelly lay spent, her body limp, her mind reeling. The feathers continued their dance, a gentle lullaby to her exhausted state. The night was far from over.
Chapter Two: Feathered Frenzy
The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the beach as the playful chaos surrounding Mark and Kelly intensified. The crowd, now a writhing mass of naked bodies, had grown exponentially. The initial thrill of the unexpected had morphed into a frenzied, communal assault on the couple's senses, a delightful symphony of ticklish sensations. Mark, still dazed from his multiple orgasms, lay limp, his body a canvas for the relentless, exquisitely torturous tickling.
But Kelly, despite her own exhaustion, was about to experience a new level of delightful torment. Several strong hands, surprisingly gentle considering their purpose, dragged her away from Mark's side. She was pulled towards a sturdy, gnarled tree, its branches reaching skyward like skeletal fingers. With practiced efficiency, the crowd swiftly bound her wrists and ankles to the tree trunk, her body exposed and vulnerable, ready for the next wave of ticklish pleasure.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as the ice cream vendor, his eyes gleaming with malicious glee, produced a bundle of long, sharp seagull feathers. These weren't just any feathers; these were instruments of exquisite torture, their tips honed to a wicked point, perfect for delivering waves of intense ticklish sensations. The vendor grinned, a cruel smile splitting his face, and began to distribute the feathers amongst the eager crowd.
The first assault was subtle. A light caress of a feather against Kelly's inner thigh, a feather brushing against her clitoris, sending shivers of anticipation through her body. But the gentle touch quickly escalated into a full-blown assault. Dozens of feathers danced across her skin, tickling every sensitive nerve ending. Her stomach, her breasts, her inner thighs, her clitoris – no inch of her body was spared. Each tickle was a tiny explosion of sensation, building towards an overwhelming crescendo.
The crowd, a symphony of moans, giggles, and gasps, worked in a perverse harmony. Some feathers teased, others tormented. Some lightly stroked, while others dug deep, finding the most sensitive spots. The rhythm of the tickling intensified, building a crescendo of pleasure that pushed Kelly to the brink of madness. The feathers, wielded with expert precision, edged her closer and closer to the edge of orgasm, only to cruelly pull her back, leaving her writhing in frustrated anticipation. Her pleas intensified, "Please... make me cum! Please, I can't take it anymore!"
The ice cream vendor, his eyes fixed on Kelly's face, orchestrated the chaos. He directed the feather play, ensuring that the torment was perfectly balanced, maximizing Kelly's ecstasy. He knew exactly when to intensify the tickling, when to ease up, when to focus on a particularly sensitive area, and when to switch targets. He was a maestro of ticklish torture, and Kelly was his unwilling soloist. Her cries of "More! More! Oh god, please make me cum!" echoed across the beach.
As the night deepened, the intensity of the feather play reached a fever pitch. Kelly's body arched, her moans echoing across the beach. She was a marionette, her strings pulled by the relentless tickling, her body a vessel for the crowd's perverse desires. Tears streamed down her face, a mixture of pleasure and sheer terror. But even as she begged for release, a perverse thrill coursed through her veins. She was trapped, helpless, yet somehow, in control.
The climax arrived unexpectedly, a wave of pure, unadulterated ecstasy that washed over her. She convulsed, her body shaking violently as orgasm after orgasm ripped through her. The crowd roared its approval, their collective energy feeding into her own. When the final tremor subsided, Kelly lay spent, her body limp, her mind reeling. The feathers continued their dance, a gentle lullaby to her exhausted state. The night was far from over.
