LindyHopper
2nd Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Sep 22, 2005
- Messages
- 1,426
- Points
- 38
My husband and I figured out by midweek that we had no plans whatsoever for the long Presidents Day weekend. After rejecting a few other short vacation options, we decided to attend a kink conference for young people, hosted at our local BDSM playspace. We've been there a couple of times, usually with a group of kinky and/or tickling friends in tow. Unfortunately, none of my usual suspects were available this weekend.
Icycle (my husband) and I attended classes on Saturday, and had dinner with some new friends we'd made. We arrived at the evening party fashionably tardy, and settled in to socialize. Icycle had a chance to bottom (hee hee! pun! 😀) to a very nice domme from Denver, and then we got to talking about a scene for me.
I love a good gang tickle, and it'd been a couple of weeks since I'd had one (I know, call me spoiled
). I was definitely in the mood for one now... but what to do? In the times we'd visited this club before, I'd never encountered anyone else doing any tickling. When my friends would tie me up and tickle me, it would usually generate some polite interest, as well as some annoyed glares about the noise. 😛 So... how do we put together a gang tickle in a club full of mostly-strangers into their various forms of BDSM?
I remembered a passing fantasy. I've often thought about being tied up, helpless, and available for any passerby to torment. The anonymity, and the lack of familiarity, was part of the appeal - being at the mercy of merciless strangers. Hmm... I thought... how lucky I am to be in a club full of sadists I don't know!
We moved a narrow, padded bondage table into a second-floor side room, so that our noisy scene would cause as little disruption as possible. I knew people would probably still stop by to look. My husband borrowed a whiteboard easel from the front desk, placed it just inside the door, and wrote the following message on it:
COME TICKLE ME!
Light touch works best.
Feathers are nice.
I'm ticklish everywhere!
By the time I got back from the bathroom, there was already a small crowd gathered right outside the door! One of my new friends offered to cuff, tie, and carabine me to the table: face-down, arms stretched over my head, wearing just my panties. After this happened, my prevailing thought was that after all the thought, preparation, and mental buildup, the final tying down seemed to happen awfully quickly!
"Is she ready?" I heard someone say.
"Yep. Help yourself!" my husband answered.
The initial touches were a surprise. I'm quite picky about the way I like to be tickled, and I'm used to new people taking some time to get the hang of it. But Icycle's instructions did their job well. I soon felt gentle fingertips along my sides and back, as well as feathery strokes up and down my legs, and all over my soles. My underarms were another favorite target for the feathers, and behind my ears, too. The woman who taught the bondage class got kudos from the crowd for flossing her long hair between my toes. I think I felt something rougher there too, but I have no idea what it was!
One interesting thing I noticed was that the way I was stretched out, pressed tightly against the table, I didn't have enough give in my bonds to crane my head around. A few brief waist-level glimpses were all that told me who was even here, so for the most part, I couldn't tell whose fingers or feathers were tickling me. That perfect feather-stroke under my toes might have been the cute, funny guy who taught the music-in-scenes class, or some woman I've never seen before. The fingertips skittering across my butt might have been my husband's, or it might have been a total stranger putting his hands on a normally off-limits place. Any of these touches - the fun, the torturous, and the incredibly sensual - could have been coming from anyone. I couldn't attach a face, or even a gender, to any of these sensations, to decide how I might want to feel. Someone (many someones!) were making me giggle, and squirm, and turning me on... and I just had to go with it.
Eventually, they decided it was time to turn me over. I took off my panties, and replaced them with my favorite wearable vibrator. They laid me back down, reclipping and tying my cuffs in place easily.
I always feel extra-vulnerable at that moment, going from face-down to face-up, especially when I'm turned on and it involves taking off the rest of my clothes. It's partly because the tops of my legs are very ticklish, especially where they meet my groin. But it's also because I know I'm wet between my legs, and my breasts must look awfully tempting.
I can look around me now. I see that the crowd has thinned somewhat from the beginning. In addition to my husband, and the guy who tied me down, I see a tall, quiet couple standing by, the cute guy from the musicality class, and a scruffily handsome stranger. But after this quick look around, and realizing that the overhead lights were kind of blinding, I decided I didn't really need to look. I was kind of enjoying the mystery.
Soon, I felt more feathers under and between my toes. I felt the dreaded fingertips up and down my legs, as well as tickles on my newly-exposed belly. It was also obvious that these folks were not at all shy about my sexy parts! The tickly feather-tips all the way up my inner thighs and along the upper crease made me buck my hips. So did the feathers swirling around my breasts, ever closer to my nipples.
I could feel particular techniques. The scruffy handsome guy had a perfectly light touch on my feet, in a way that usually takes several encounters with me to master. Music Man was using two feathers like drumsticks, bringing them down against my skin to the rapid beat of the background music, from my breasts, down my side, and back up again. And my husband turned my vibrator on "low," so I could feel its gentle too-light buzzing against my most sensitive spot.
And now I'm bucking and moaning in earnest. Exhibitionist though I am, I feel a little self-conscious displaying this height of my arousal to strangers. However, that part of my self-awareness was rapidly retreating in favor of the part that couldn't wait to come. The tickling seemed to lessen (or maybe that was only my imagination), as my eyes skipped between bits of pleading eye contact, and squeezing shut tight.
I feel my husband place his hand over my carefully-placed vibrator, scooting it around a little between my lips. He turns it up a bit. And then he slides just a little bit of finger inside me.
"Ahh! Come on, please! I want to come so bad!!!"
And then a little more finger, along with his palm pressed over the vibe. It wasn't enough... or almost enough... no, definitely enough! 😀 I tense up, and arch, and scream... oh thank goodness! I only get the one orgasm though, before I feel the tickles start up again.
I can tell I'm irresistibly giggly by this point. They aren't even being that mean - I just can't help it! And then I'm coming again, easily compared to the first one. And then again. And again, just for good measure. 😛
Eventually they slow down, and my husband calls the scene to a stop. The tickles transition into gentle, soothing strokes, as my new friends unhook my cuffs. I turn over for a firm, well-needed backrub. I like to joke that the tickling is just a ploy, to get to the six-handed massage. 😉
I decided I rather like Scruffy Handsome Guy. Fortunately, there was another party scheduled for Sunday night... That was my happy reacquaintance with more intimate threesomes, and a spreader bar. 
I'll try to write about that one soon, too. 
Icycle (my husband) and I attended classes on Saturday, and had dinner with some new friends we'd made. We arrived at the evening party fashionably tardy, and settled in to socialize. Icycle had a chance to bottom (hee hee! pun! 😀) to a very nice domme from Denver, and then we got to talking about a scene for me.
I love a good gang tickle, and it'd been a couple of weeks since I'd had one (I know, call me spoiled
). I was definitely in the mood for one now... but what to do? In the times we'd visited this club before, I'd never encountered anyone else doing any tickling. When my friends would tie me up and tickle me, it would usually generate some polite interest, as well as some annoyed glares about the noise. 😛 So... how do we put together a gang tickle in a club full of mostly-strangers into their various forms of BDSM?I remembered a passing fantasy. I've often thought about being tied up, helpless, and available for any passerby to torment. The anonymity, and the lack of familiarity, was part of the appeal - being at the mercy of merciless strangers. Hmm... I thought... how lucky I am to be in a club full of sadists I don't know!
We moved a narrow, padded bondage table into a second-floor side room, so that our noisy scene would cause as little disruption as possible. I knew people would probably still stop by to look. My husband borrowed a whiteboard easel from the front desk, placed it just inside the door, and wrote the following message on it:
COME TICKLE ME!
Light touch works best.
Feathers are nice.
I'm ticklish everywhere!
By the time I got back from the bathroom, there was already a small crowd gathered right outside the door! One of my new friends offered to cuff, tie, and carabine me to the table: face-down, arms stretched over my head, wearing just my panties. After this happened, my prevailing thought was that after all the thought, preparation, and mental buildup, the final tying down seemed to happen awfully quickly!
"Is she ready?" I heard someone say.
"Yep. Help yourself!" my husband answered.
The initial touches were a surprise. I'm quite picky about the way I like to be tickled, and I'm used to new people taking some time to get the hang of it. But Icycle's instructions did their job well. I soon felt gentle fingertips along my sides and back, as well as feathery strokes up and down my legs, and all over my soles. My underarms were another favorite target for the feathers, and behind my ears, too. The woman who taught the bondage class got kudos from the crowd for flossing her long hair between my toes. I think I felt something rougher there too, but I have no idea what it was!
One interesting thing I noticed was that the way I was stretched out, pressed tightly against the table, I didn't have enough give in my bonds to crane my head around. A few brief waist-level glimpses were all that told me who was even here, so for the most part, I couldn't tell whose fingers or feathers were tickling me. That perfect feather-stroke under my toes might have been the cute, funny guy who taught the music-in-scenes class, or some woman I've never seen before. The fingertips skittering across my butt might have been my husband's, or it might have been a total stranger putting his hands on a normally off-limits place. Any of these touches - the fun, the torturous, and the incredibly sensual - could have been coming from anyone. I couldn't attach a face, or even a gender, to any of these sensations, to decide how I might want to feel. Someone (many someones!) were making me giggle, and squirm, and turning me on... and I just had to go with it.
Eventually, they decided it was time to turn me over. I took off my panties, and replaced them with my favorite wearable vibrator. They laid me back down, reclipping and tying my cuffs in place easily.
I always feel extra-vulnerable at that moment, going from face-down to face-up, especially when I'm turned on and it involves taking off the rest of my clothes. It's partly because the tops of my legs are very ticklish, especially where they meet my groin. But it's also because I know I'm wet between my legs, and my breasts must look awfully tempting.
I can look around me now. I see that the crowd has thinned somewhat from the beginning. In addition to my husband, and the guy who tied me down, I see a tall, quiet couple standing by, the cute guy from the musicality class, and a scruffily handsome stranger. But after this quick look around, and realizing that the overhead lights were kind of blinding, I decided I didn't really need to look. I was kind of enjoying the mystery.
Soon, I felt more feathers under and between my toes. I felt the dreaded fingertips up and down my legs, as well as tickles on my newly-exposed belly. It was also obvious that these folks were not at all shy about my sexy parts! The tickly feather-tips all the way up my inner thighs and along the upper crease made me buck my hips. So did the feathers swirling around my breasts, ever closer to my nipples.
I could feel particular techniques. The scruffy handsome guy had a perfectly light touch on my feet, in a way that usually takes several encounters with me to master. Music Man was using two feathers like drumsticks, bringing them down against my skin to the rapid beat of the background music, from my breasts, down my side, and back up again. And my husband turned my vibrator on "low," so I could feel its gentle too-light buzzing against my most sensitive spot.
And now I'm bucking and moaning in earnest. Exhibitionist though I am, I feel a little self-conscious displaying this height of my arousal to strangers. However, that part of my self-awareness was rapidly retreating in favor of the part that couldn't wait to come. The tickling seemed to lessen (or maybe that was only my imagination), as my eyes skipped between bits of pleading eye contact, and squeezing shut tight.
I feel my husband place his hand over my carefully-placed vibrator, scooting it around a little between my lips. He turns it up a bit. And then he slides just a little bit of finger inside me.
"Ahh! Come on, please! I want to come so bad!!!"
And then a little more finger, along with his palm pressed over the vibe. It wasn't enough... or almost enough... no, definitely enough! 😀 I tense up, and arch, and scream... oh thank goodness! I only get the one orgasm though, before I feel the tickles start up again.
I can tell I'm irresistibly giggly by this point. They aren't even being that mean - I just can't help it! And then I'm coming again, easily compared to the first one. And then again. And again, just for good measure. 😛
Eventually they slow down, and my husband calls the scene to a stop. The tickles transition into gentle, soothing strokes, as my new friends unhook my cuffs. I turn over for a firm, well-needed backrub. I like to joke that the tickling is just a ploy, to get to the six-handed massage. 😉
I decided I rather like Scruffy Handsome Guy. Fortunately, there was another party scheduled for Sunday night...
That was my happy reacquaintance with more intimate threesomes, and a spreader bar. I'll try to write about that one soon, too.
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I'm lying - my feathery technique just comes naturally. I'm not lying about wanting a few minutes with your soles, though!
We should get together and make some more stories... 
