Ticklemang
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Aug 7, 2014
- Messages
- 223
- Points
- 43
John was rinsing off under the steady stream of the shower, the warm water cascading over his body, attempting to wash away the day's stress. Meanwhile, his wife Ella had just finished her own shower, her skin still tingling from the moisturizing lotion she had generously applied, especially to her freshly pampered feet. She was about to remove her makeup when the incessant pounding of bass from the frat house next door shattered their evening's tranquility. With a sigh, she decided to confront the source of the noise. Moments later, as John stepped out of the shower and began to dry himself off, a sudden sound sliced through the party's cacophony – Ella's laughter, unrestrained and tinged with hysteria.
His heart lurched as he leaped from the bed and hurried to the window to see what was going on. Peering through the night, John's blood ran cold. There was Ella, ensnared by two frat boys whose fingers danced across her upper body with devilish delight. The hands of one skimmed the delicate skin of her underarms, fingers wiggling deep within, sending her into uncontrollable peals of laughter while the other clawed at her sides and tummy. Shocked into immobility, John felt a shameful arousal stirring within him, forming an uncomfortable erection that he tried to ignore.
As Ella struggled, her body writhing under the tickling assault, two more frat boys appeared, seizing her legs with greedy hands. John's eyes widened in horror as they removed her shoes, revealing her feet sheathed in soft, white socks. He knew she had treated herself to a pedicure earlier that day, and now her freshly pampered feet were vulnerable. The new assailants wasted no time, their fingers gliding over the fabric to tickle the sensitive skin of her arches. Ella's laughter escalated to shrieks as she hollered, "NOOOO NAAHAHAHT MY FEEEEEET."
Shaken from his paralyzing shock, John scrambled to throw on some clothes and dashed downstairs. By the time he burst into their backyard, Ella was being hoisted by the frat boys, her body limp and laughing as they carried her towards the looming frat house. John's heart raced as he reached the gate, only to be met by a large bouncer who smirked and claimed, “I didn’t see any woman taken in. Maybe she's inside enjoying the party, but you're not invited.”
In a frantic bid to rescue his wife, John attempted to force his way past the imposing guard at the backyard entrance, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and urgency. The guard, however, reacted swiftly, planting a firm hand on John's chest and shoving him back with such force that he stumbled back several steps, nearly losing his balance. Refusing to be deterred, John's desperation fueled his resolve as he sprinted around to the front of the frat house, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
At the front gate, another guard stood sentinel, eyeing John warily as he approached. Without hesitation, John pleaded with this new guardian, his voice a mixture of desperation and determination, but his words fell on indifferent ears. As he tried to push his way through, the guard responded with a hard shove, sending John tumbling down the steps, his body crashing against the concrete with a painful thud. The stinging ache in his limbs was a stark reminder of his failure.
Defeated and with his options exhausted, John picked himself up, his body bruised from the encounter and his mind tormented by both worry for Ella and the shameful, forbidden desire stirring within him. The sensation of arousal, which he found repulsive yet undeniable, pulsed through him, adding to his turmoil. With a heavy heart and an erection that he despised yet could not ignore, John jogged back to his house, each step echoing the conflict raging inside him.
Back in their bedroom, John's attention was drawn to the top floor of the frat house which had a window which gave him a clear view into a bedroom where a haunting scene unfolded. His heart sank as he watched the frat boys carry a frantically struggling Ella into the room. Her arms flailed wildly, and her laughter echoed across the space between the houses as they positioned her on the bed. Ella was helplessly sprawled faceup on a bed, surrounded by four frat boys. One sat atop her arms, which were stretched above her head, his fingers tickling the silky skin, tracing maddening circles around her underarms, occasionally darting into the crevice with all his fingers to send her into louder fits of laughter and struggling. Her arms strained against his weight, futilely attempting to jerk free as laughter burst from her lips.
Another perched on her torso, his fingers roughly kneading the skin across her ribs and toned abdomen. He varied his technique, alternating between light strokes along her abs and firmer, more intense tickles that he put his whole body into. Ella's body bucked wildly beneath him, her laughter punctuated with pleading gasps as she tried but failed to escape the relentless tickling.
At the foot of the bed, the other two frat boys firmly took hold of Ella’s legs, positioning themselves on her thighs with an unsettling ease. Their strong hands gripped her ankles tightly, pinning them down and rendering her movements futile. John observed with agony and fascination as they began their torment over her sock-covered feet. One of the frat boys started by using the tips of his fingers to trace circles over the fabric encasing her heels, the pressure enough to stimulate the sensitive skin beneath without full intensity. Ella's body jolted as the tickling sensation filtered through the soft socks, her laughter bubbling up immediately. The other joined in, dragging his fingers along her arches slow, deliberate strokes. His fingers wove intricate patterns over the fabric, causing Ella to squirm and giggle helplessly, her laughter steadily rising in volume and intensity.
They continued their relentless tickling, varying their techniques to keep Ella on the edge of hysteria. Their fingers danced and scribbled across the fabric, making Ella laugh uncontrollably. "PLEASE! I Cahahant take it! I’ll AHAHAH DO ANHEEETHING! ANYTHING AAAAAHAHAHAH," she managed to scream amidst her hysteria. The continuous assault on her socked feet pushed her to the brink, her legs trembling with the effort to escape the tickling, but the frat boys' grip held her fast. After a few minutes of this torture, they decided to shift tactics, flipping her unceremoniously onto her stomach, her laughter morphing into shrieks of protests. Ignoring her pleas, they continued their tickling over her socked heels, raking their fingers up and down the sensitive spots, driving her into further fits of laughter.
With Ella now lying on her stomach, her socked feet were still their primary target. The frat boys resumed their tickling, focusing first on her heels, using their fingers to trace maddening patterns over the fabric. The sensation was intensified by the lotion still coating her feet, making the skin beneath the socks feel even softer and more vulnerable. One boy then began slowly peeling off the first sock, inch by agonizing inch, revealing the smooth, pink skin of her heel. As soon as the heel was half-exposed, he began tickling it directly, sending Ella into a fresh bout of laughter. "NO! PLEASE! NOT THE FEET! NOT THERE! NO LEAVE MY SOCKS ON PLEASE NOT THE FEHEHEEEET AHAHA JOHN HELP MEHEHEHEEE," she pleaded, her voice cracking with the strain of her laughter. The other mirrored his companion, peeling off the second sock with the same meticulous slowness. As more of her sole was revealed, he traced his fingers along her arches, teasing and tormenting the sensitive flesh. The lotion made her soles exceptionally soft and slick, amplifying the ticklish sensation. Ella's laughter reached new heights as both boys focused on her arches, their fingers scribbling and wiggling over the now fully exposed, pink, and tender skin. John's breath caught in his throat; the sight of her helpless feet being tickled so mercilessly was almost unbearable and painfully arousing.
In an attempt to shield her most ticklish spots, Ella clenched her toes tightly, scrunching up her soles to protect her toes from the forthcoming torture. The frat boys, however, had no intention of attacking her toes yet. They focused their efforts on her unprotected heels and the sensitive spot where her heel met her arch, areas that remained exposed despite her scrunched soles. Their fingers raked up and down these tender spots with intense ferocity, each stroke sending Ella into convulsions of laughter.Moving on, the boys began targeting her arches, using a variety of tickling methods to keep her on edge. They alternated between light, fluttery touches and deep, digging motions, ensuring the entirety of her soft, slick arches was mercilessly stimulated. Their fingers scribbled and raked over her arches, eliciting shrieks and wails from Ella, who struggled and squirmed under their relentless tickling assault. The intensity of the tickling never wavered, pushing her into an incessant frenzy of laughter and desperate squirming.
John, driven to desperation, dialed the police in a frantic attempt to seek help. He tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke into the phone. "You have to help! My wife has been kidnapped by a frat party next door," he pleaded. The operator's response was dismissive, almost flippant. "Sir, it's likely she's just having fun at the party. We get these calls all the time." John's frustration boiled over, and he stressed, "No, you don't understand! They're tickling her! She's super ticklish, especially on her feet—she can't stand it!" The operator laughed derisively on the other end of the line. "Are you joking, sir? Tickling isn't exactly a kidnapping." John's voice was stern and desperate. "I'm not joking. Please, you have to help!" The operator sighed, "Alright, we'll send a squad car, but it'll be a while. This isn't exactly an emergency."
As the frat boys temporarily ceased their tickling onslaught, the two at Ella's feet picked up a length of rope. They deftly worked to loop it around her big toes, their movements swift and precise. Ella squirmed and giggled uncontrollably, her toes clenching tightly in a futile attempt to thwart their efforts. "What are you doing!? OH MY GOD NOOO! I CANT EVEN MOVE MY FEET! YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME PLEASE! PLEAHEHEHASE AHAHAH," she begged, feeling the rope tighten around her digits. Once her toes were secured together, the frat boys tied the other end of the rope to the bed frame, stretching her toes out and rendering her feet utterly immobile. Then, they eagerly resumed their attack, their fingers raking over the soft, sensitive skin of her soles and scribbling between the delicate gaps of her toes. Ella cried out in desperate laughter, her pleas ringing through the room. "NO! NOT MY TOES! LEAVE THEM ALOHOONE! PLEAAAAAHAHASE!" Her laughter filled the air, her eyes wide with panic as she struggled against her bindings.
John watched the scene unfold with a mix of intense arousal and jealous frustration. He had always fantasized about giving Ella a session like this, exploring tickling her feet, which he found irresistibly sexy. But she had always refused him, citing her extreme sensitivity. Now, seeing someone else fulfill his deepest desires, he was torn between the shameful thrill of his arousal and the agonizing jealousy it provoked, as well as the guilt at being unable to help her in her time of need.
With her feet stretched out and immobilized, the frat boys introduced a new tool of torment: metal claw back scratchers. They brandished the implements with a cruel gleam in their eyes, pressing the claws against the soft, ticklish flesh of her soles. They dragged the scratchers relentlessly across her arches, the cold metal eliciting piercing shrieks and peals of laughter from Ella. "WHAT IS THAT? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? GET THAT AWAY FROM MY FEET! NO! NO!" she screamed, her laughter echoing through the room as the scratchers relentlessly scraped and dug into her soles with no mercy. Ella's eyes watered with tears of helplessness, her face contorted in a mix of laughter and despair as the relentless tickling pushed her to the edge of her endurance.
Her assailants showed no signs of relenting, continuing to attack her soles with the back scratchers. The metal claws traced intricate patterns over the soft arches of her feet, leaving no inch of her sensitive soles untouched. Ella's laughter turned hysterical, her body writhing against the ropes that bound her. Her feet struggled to no avail, the muscles in her soles tensing and quivering under the brutal tickling. Each scrape of the scratchers sent shivers of ticklish agony through her, causing her to arch her back in a futile attempt to escape the torment.
As if the back scratchers were not enough, the frat boys introduced electric toothbrushes, turning them on with a menacing buzz. They applied the brushes to her stretched-out toes, the rapid vibrations sending Ella into a new wave of ticklish agony. The back scratchers continued their merciless assault on her soles while the toothbrushes danced between her toes, teasing the sensitive spaces between them. "NO! NOT THE TOOTHBRUSHES! PLEASE! YOU’RE DRIVING ME INSANE! AHAHAH LEAVE MY TOES ALOHOONE! PLEAAAAASE!" Ella's laughter and pleading filled the room, her voice hoarse from the continuous tickling. Her feet shook helplessly, the soft, pampered skin trembling under the dual assault. The sensation of the brushes against her toes was unbearably ticklish, driving her to the brink of madness as tears streamed down her cheeks, her eyes wide with desperation.
John felt himself zoning out completely as he watched the relentless tickling of his wife's feet, the entire world fading away until only the sight and sound of Ella's merciless tickle torture remained. It was as if his greatest fantasy had come to life before his eyes, a fantasy he had suppressed for so long. His breath caught in his throat, the room beginning to spin as his arousal surged to an unbearable peak. The intense visual and auditory stimulation was too much and he felt a powerful surge through his body, an explosion of pleasure that left him clinging to the wall for support. As his orgasm wracked his body, his pants soaked with the wet spot growing larger by the second, John lost control entirely, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. The sound of Ella's laughter, ringing in his ears, was the only thing anchoring him to reality.
As the waves of pleasure subsided, a heavy sense of shame washed over John. He slumped against the wall, the realization dawning on him that he was helpless to do anything more than wait for the police to arrive. Just then, someone in the frat house noticed him watching through the window. With a swift motion, the shades were drawn, cutting off his view completely. John felt a pang of desperation and frustration—not only was he robbed of the perverse pleasure of watching the show, but now he was also left ignorant of how his wife was being tormented further. Yet, the sounds of Ella's laughter and pleas continued to reach him, muffled but undeniable. Through the closed shades, he could only see faint silhouettes moving, giving him no useful information about what was transpiring inside. The tickling continued for about ten more minutes, the sounds of Ella's desperate begging growing increasingly frantic. "PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING! AAAAAHAHANYTHING! JUST STOP TICKLING ME! I CAAAHAHANT TAKE IT ANYMORE! PLEAHEHEHEASE!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the night, and then it went quiet for John, unable to hear what was happening now that Ella’s screamed laughter had subsided.
At the end of her begging, the frat guys took her up on her desperate offer. "Alright, sweetheart, we'll fuck your brains out then," one of them said with a wicked grin, and Ella, desperate for any reprieve from the tickling, agreed without hesitation. "Yes, yes! Just don't tickle my feet anymore! I don't care what you do, just PLEASE stop tickling them!"
With that, they untied her toes and stripped her naked, positioning her on the bed in a doggy-style position. One thrust his large cock into her mouth, stretching her lips wide as he fucked her face with deep, relentless strokes. His hands gripped her hair tightly, guiding her movements. Another positioned himself behind her, his enormous member plunging into her pussy with deep thrusts, starting out slowly in order to give her time to stretch and acclimate. As he sped up, he held onto her hips, driving into her with a force that made her gasp and moan. A Hitachi vibrator was pressed firmly against her clit, its powerful vibrations sending shockwaves through her body and making her eyes roll back into her head. The sensation was so intense, so overwhelming, that Ella's legs began to tremble immediately.
Two of them remained at her feet, their tongues lapping gently at her pampered soles. One focused on her arches, his tongue tracing lazy circles that made her toes twitch in pleasure. His warm breath against her sensitive skin added another layer of sensation, drawing out moans from Ella's throat. The other boy delicately licked between her toes, each flick of his tongue sending shivers up her spine while he ever so gently grazed a single finger along the rest of her sole. The stark contrast between the earlier tickling and this gentle, sensual attention to her feet heightened Ella's pleasure to an almost unbearable level. She was lost in a world of sensations, the intense pleasure from the fucking and the vibrator mixing with the tender, tickling caresses on her feet, creating a whirlwind of ecstasy that consumed her entirely.
Ella's first orgasm hit with the force of a tsunami, her legs shaking uncontrollably as waves of pleasure coursed through her. Her mascara ran in black streaks down her cheeks, mingling with the remnants of her earlier tears of laughter. She moaned loudly around the cock in her mouth, her wails of ecstasy barely reaching John as muffled sounds through the closed shades. Her pussy clenched around the large cock inside her, squirting for the first time, soaking the bed beneath them as her toes clenched, not deterring the two at her feet from continuing.
The frat members continued working her over, the Hitachi pressed firmly against her clit as they pleasured her relentlessly. Another orgasm built swiftly, her moans growing louder and more desperate. Her body convulsed against the relentless pounding, her legs trembling as she squirted again, her juices gushing out in powerful spurts. The sensation was overwhelming; she had never experienced pleasure this intense, her mind lost in a haze of ecstasy.
As the third orgasm hit, Ella's wails of pleasure were almost animalistic, her body bucking wildly against the frat boys. Her mascara was a mess now, smudged and running down her face, a testament to the sheer intensity of the orgasms tearing through her. Her pussy clenched and released around the huge cock inside her, each squirt sending tremors through her body. The gentle licking of her feet only heightened the experience, adding layers of sensation that pushed her into another world.
John, standing helplessly outside, could only catch faint whimpers and moans through the closed shades. The primal noises Ella made were muffled by the cock in her mouth, so what John could hear was barely decipherable, and he couldn't place what was happening. Meanwhile, Ella was lost in a world of pure pleasure, her body overwhelmed by the most intense orgasms of her life. They rotated positions to give themselves breaks, ensuring she remained in a state of continuous ecstasy for nearly an hour.
When the single squad car finally pulled up, its red and blue lights casting fleeting shadows on the lawn of the frat house, John rushed out to meet it. His appearance was disheveled, his hair a mess, and the noticeable wet spot on his pants left no doubt about his earlier encounter. The officer, a stern-looking man in his forties, gave John a dismissive glance, his eyes lingering on the stain. Desperate, John tried to explain the situation with increasing urgency. "Officer, my wife is in there! They're holding her against her will and tickle torturing her—I'm not sure what else they're doing!" The officer rolled his eyes but nodded, agreeing to investigate. After a short exchange with the bouncer at the entrance, the officer was allowed entry into the frat house. To John, the wait felt like a tortuous eternity fueled by anxiety and the concern for his wife.
When the officer finally returned, his face wore a smug grin that made John's stomach drop. "Your wife is fine, better than fine, actually. She's enjoying herself and will be staying a bit longer," the officer informed him before giving one last disgusted look and driving off. John stood there, defeated and overwhelmed by emotions—anger, helplessness, and jealousy.
John returned to his house, the faint sounds of pleasure barely reaching him through the closed shades. The muffled noises were indistinguishable, a distant mix of moans and wails that pierced him with each wave. He tried to convince himself that it couldn't be as bad as he imagined, that Ella was just caught up in the moment. But deep down, he knew better. The undeniable truth was that the thoughts of what was unfolding inside the frat house had him rock hard again, his arousal a mixture of guilt and debilitating desire.
Inside the frat house, Ella was lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy, her mind disassociating from her body as the frat boys continued to pleasure her beyond her wildest dreams. She had never known it was possible to feel this good, to be pushed to these extremes of pleasure. They took turns with her, their big cocks driving into her relentlessly, stretching her and making her see stars. The Hitachi, still pressed firmly against her swollen clit, sent continuous waves of pleasure coursing through her system. Her legs trembled incessantly, the vibrations compounded by the large member pounding into her soaked pussy and the other thrusting deep into her willing mouth.
As the intensity built, the frat boys decided to finish, their orgasms imminent. Some of them pulled out, directing their hot cum onto her feet, marking the perfect soles as theirs. Others aimed for her face, the sticky fluid running down her cheeks, mixing with the mascara that had already begun to smear from the rigorous fucking. The rest landed on her back, the warmth of their release sending shivers down her spine.
The final act was the most intense. They flipped her onto her back, the Hitachi still buzzing against her clit. One frat boy leaned in to kiss her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth with a fervent intensity. Another played with her nipples, rolling them between his fingers and lips and sending sparks of pleasure through her body. The remaining two continued their worship of her feet, their tongues caressing the sensitive soles and between her toes. It was too much for Ella to handle, her body arching off the bed as she was driven to yet another earth-shattering orgasm, her scream muffled by the passion of the kiss. She squirted powerfully, the bed soaked beneath her, her body trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure overwhelmed her.
Completely drained and spent, Ella lay there for a moment, basking in the aftershocks of her orgasm. Slowly, she gathered the strength to rise, her legs shaky and unsteady. Her mascara was a mess, running down her face and mixing with the cum that clung to her skin. Her hair was tousled, evidence of the wild pleasure she had experienced. She hobbled back toward her house, still covered in cum, her mind in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss.
When she finally arrived, John rushed to her side, his eyes wide with concern. "Are you okay? What happened? Tell me everything," he demanded, firing off a million questions as he inspected her for any signs of harm. His arousal battled with his worry, the conflict evident in his disheveled appearance and the tension in his voice.
Ella looked at him, her eyes narrowing as she took in the wet mess on his pants. "You got turned on by this? Are you serious, John? You're disgusting!" she snapped, her voice laced with anger and disbelief. John flinched at her words, his face flushing with shame. "I... I couldn't help it. It's always been a fantasy of mine to tickle you, especially your perfect feet, but you've never let me," he confessed, his voice trembling with helplessness and embarrassment. "It just happened, and I swear I wasn't trying to. I did everything I could to save you—I called the cops, I got shoved down the stairs. I'm so sorry, Ella."
She considered his response for a moment, her initial anger softening as she saw the genuine remorse and confusion in his eyes. "So, it's been your fantasy all this time?" she asked, her tone shifting slightly. "And you were turned on by them tickling me... but what about the rest of it? Were you turned on by everything that happened?" Her voice took on a teasing edge as she watched him squirm, observing as his pants started to tent from his renewed arousal.
John nodded weakly, his cheeks burning red. "Yes, but I know it's wrong. I just... it's complicated."
A smile played at the corner of Ella's lips as she realized the power she now held over him. "Maybe you need to hear all the juicy details," she said, her voice seductive yet taunting. "Maybe it'll help you understand what you're feeling." As she spoke, a wicked idea formed in her mind, one that would keep John entranced and under her control.
She took him up to their bed and pushed him onto it, climbing on top of him, and began to recount her ordeal, her voice softening slightly as she teased his penis with her fingers ever so gently. Holding his penis and using just her thumb to stroke the underside, she told him,"They tickled me until I couldn't breathe, John. Their fingers danced all over my body – my armpits, my ribs, my stomach. And then they got to my feet," she whispered, her feet rubbing gently against his face, pushing onto his lips. She then held them up to show him how they were pink tinged from the intense tickling. "They peeled off my socks so slowly, tickling every inch of my heels, my arches, my toes. It was unbearable."
John's erection strained in her hand, seeking more stimulation, but not needing it, as she continued, her thumb teasing him softly. "And then they started fucking me," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "Their cocks were huge, John. So much bigger than yours. One of them fucked my mouth while another pounded my pussy. And they had this super strong vibrator on my clit. I came so hard, John. I've never felt anything like it. And they sucked my toes and licked my soles the entire time. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt."
As she spoke, John's arousal built to a crescendo. Ella's teasing, her detailed recounting of her ordeal, and the sensation of her feet against his face brought him to the edge. Finally, she told John, “Imagine being there, seeing your wife get double teamed, squirting all over the bed, all while two of them were tickling and playing with my feet. I bet you would have loved to be a part of that, wouldn’t you,” All of a sudden, even the gentle stroking of her thumb was too much for him to handle. With a final orgasm, so intense he couldn't help but cry out and thrust into the air, he came, his penis pulsing wildly as she continued to rub it at the same maddeningly slow and gentle cadence.
In the days that followed, Ella laid out the new rules: no orgasms for John during the week. He would be locked in chastity to make sure he couldn’t “cheat, and she made sure to keep him well teased all week long, so by the time the weekend rolled around, he was beside himself with arousal, so frustrated and horny it was all he could think about. Every Saturday night, she would return to the frat house, the shades drawn so John could hear but not see. She would unlock his cage but tie him down to prevent any 'accidents', leaving him to listen helplessly to her laughter and begging, and then the faint sounds of her pleasure all night. When she returned, she would sit on the bed, her feet on his face, and recount every detail of her night while gently teasing his penis with feathers, makeup brushes, paintbrushes, a single finger, and if he was lucky, slow light licks from her tongue, all until he would erupt into orgasms so powerful they made him dizzy.
As the weeks turned into months, this became their new routine. Ella reveled in her newfound sexual freedom, indulging in the wild pleasure the frat offered her. John, on the other hand, learned to live with the constant state of arousal and denial, his orgasms on the weekends the only release he was allowed, and he was completely addicted. The dynamic between them shifted, with Ella in control and John a willing, albeit frustrated, participant in their new, perverse arrangement.
Shortly after their arrangement became commonplace, John endured a torturous wait for his weekly release. Throughout the week, Ella kept him in a constant state of arousal and frustration with her feet. She would rub them all over him, making him suck her toes, and use her feet to tease him sensually while he was locked in his chastity cage. She described in explicit detail what the frat boys were going to do to her on the upcoming Saturday—tickling, fucking her into oblivion, and making her cum her brains out. By Tuesday, John's cage was constantly leaking precum, and his arousal was palpable, yet all he could do was tolerate it, clinging to the promise of his release on Saturday.
When Saturday finally arrived, Ella went and got a pedicure, ensuring her feet were impeccably soft. Upon her return, she tied John to the bed and unlocked his chastity cage. She peppered his small erection with teasing kisses, fueling his arousal even further. A puddle of precum formed on his stomach as he moaned and thrust into the air, his penis twitching uncontrollably. Ella then changed into a tight, form-fitting black dress that accentuated her curves and complemented it with sexy open-toed flats. With a final, lingering kiss on John's throbbing member, she headed off to the frat house, leaving him bound and on edge.
Within a few minutes, John could hear his wife's laughter and desperate pleas echoing from the frat house next door. "PLEASE! NO MORE NOT MY FEEEET! I’LL DO ANYTHING! AAAAAHAHAANYTHING!" Ella begged, her voice teetering on the edge of hysteria. "I'LL MOVE IN WITH YOU! YES! YES! AHAHA NAHAHT THE TOES!" came another shout, her laughter filling the air. As the tickling intensified, she offered every sexual favor imaginable, her pleas growing more and more frantic. "I’LL SUCK YOU ALL OFF! I’LL BE YOUR SLAVE! JUST STOP TICKLING ME! PLEAHEHEASE!" John lay there, his penis throbbing and twitching against his restraints, imagining the scene unfolding as his wife's laughter and desperate cries washed over him. The thought of Ella being coerced into progressively more intense concessions through tickling her feet was unbearably arousing, though a part of him hoped her offers weren't genuine.
After the tickling ceased, John could hear the sounds of her ecstasy begin. The frat boys had come to some sort of agreement, and the grunts and moans from his wife suggested she was experiencing a level of pleasure far beyond what he could ever provide. He listened intently, imagining them servicing her in ways he never could, bringing her to one earth-shattering orgasm after another.
Finally, Ella returned home, mascara running and breathing heavily. Without a word, she climbed onto the bed and placed her perfect feet on John's face. His erection was already rock hard, with an ample pool of precum ready to be used as lube. She selected a feather from her array of teasing implements and began to gently stroke his shaft and frenulum with slow, deliberate motions.
John responded immediately to the feather's touch, his moans filled with desperation. Ella laughed at his reaction. "How did they tickle you today?" John asked, his voice strained with need.
"They've got this padded chair with stocks now," Ella replied teasingly. "They locked my feet in and went to town. Look how pink they are from being ravaged by those mean frat guys. I was begging and pleading for them to stop, but there was nothing I could do." She paused, her voice softening as she continued, "Then they started tying my toes back, spreading them apart so they could tickle between them with their fingers and toothbrushes. I was laughing so hard and begging so much, I offered them anything to stop, but they just kept going."
John's breath hitched as the feather continued its slow, maddening strokes. His cock twitched violently, and he thrust his hips into the air, seeking more stimulation that would never come. The feather's gentle touch was torturous, slowly building up an orgasm at her pace. Ella's laughter at his desperation only added to his frustration. His chest heaved, his need growing with each painstaking second, his moans transforming into desperate whimpers as his wife teased him mercilessly.
"They made me promise them something, an agreement to get out of the stocks and get the fucking I needed," Ella added mysteriously.
John's curiosity was piqued, but his need overshadowed it. "What was it?" he asked breathlessly.
"I'll tell you later," she said with a teasing smile. She then recounted the details of her sexual encounter with the frat boys, how they made her cum over and over, fulfilling her every desire. "You know what? Two of them even started tickling my feet while another one fucked me. I came so many times from that."
Her words, combined with the feather's relentless teasing, pushed John closer and closer to the edge. Each detail, each touch of her feet on his face, brought him nearer to the climax he so desperately craved. But just as he was about to tip over the edge, Ella halted the feather's strokes, leaving him moaning and thrusting, longing for release.
She pulled the feather away at the last second, his penis bobbing and twitching in frustration, leaking copious amounts of precum. John begged her, his voice laced with desperation, "Please, Ella, I need it so bad."
Ella couldn't contain her amusement at his pleading. "You know what they made me promise? I'm sorry, sweetie, but I can't make you cum this week." She gave him another stroke with the feather, bringing him right to the edge again.
"No, baby, please! Don't do this," John cried out, trying to appeal to her mercy. Another stroke, another agonizing edge—his eyes rolled back into his head in frustration. He was so close, just a few more strokes would send him into the most powerful orgasm of his life. His moans and thrusts took on a pathetic, desperate edge as Ella giggled at his predicament.
"Baby, I can't go against our agreement... not after they made me cum like that," she teased, giving him another stroke with the feather and keeping him right on the brink. He whimpered, his rock-hard cock betraying his intense arousal.
The realization that the frat boys had a level of control over his orgasms—that they could dictate his denial through their access to Ella's feet—intensified his arousal even further. The fact that she was choosing to obey them over him was maddening. In sheer desperation, he pulled at his bonds, trying to break free, begging Ella to just push him over the edge. But he was met only with her giggles and another slow stroke along his shaft and the head of his penis.
For thirty more minutes, she continued this torturous tease. John begged, pleaded, tears streaming down his face as he pulled at his restraints, whining like a baby for his wife to give him relief. Ella giggled, feigning regret, and said she was sorry but couldn't help him, while delivering slow, deliberate strokes with the feather and recounting more salacious details of her night. She even continued long after he started crying, pushing him to the very limits of his frustration.
Finally, when she deemed him sufficiently tormented, Ella locked him back into his chastity cage, wiping the tears from his eyes and giving him a gentle kiss. She untied him and cuddled beside him, whispering tenderly into his ear, "Maybe next week..."
His heart lurched as he leaped from the bed and hurried to the window to see what was going on. Peering through the night, John's blood ran cold. There was Ella, ensnared by two frat boys whose fingers danced across her upper body with devilish delight. The hands of one skimmed the delicate skin of her underarms, fingers wiggling deep within, sending her into uncontrollable peals of laughter while the other clawed at her sides and tummy. Shocked into immobility, John felt a shameful arousal stirring within him, forming an uncomfortable erection that he tried to ignore.
As Ella struggled, her body writhing under the tickling assault, two more frat boys appeared, seizing her legs with greedy hands. John's eyes widened in horror as they removed her shoes, revealing her feet sheathed in soft, white socks. He knew she had treated herself to a pedicure earlier that day, and now her freshly pampered feet were vulnerable. The new assailants wasted no time, their fingers gliding over the fabric to tickle the sensitive skin of her arches. Ella's laughter escalated to shrieks as she hollered, "NOOOO NAAHAHAHT MY FEEEEEET."
Shaken from his paralyzing shock, John scrambled to throw on some clothes and dashed downstairs. By the time he burst into their backyard, Ella was being hoisted by the frat boys, her body limp and laughing as they carried her towards the looming frat house. John's heart raced as he reached the gate, only to be met by a large bouncer who smirked and claimed, “I didn’t see any woman taken in. Maybe she's inside enjoying the party, but you're not invited.”
In a frantic bid to rescue his wife, John attempted to force his way past the imposing guard at the backyard entrance, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and urgency. The guard, however, reacted swiftly, planting a firm hand on John's chest and shoving him back with such force that he stumbled back several steps, nearly losing his balance. Refusing to be deterred, John's desperation fueled his resolve as he sprinted around to the front of the frat house, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
At the front gate, another guard stood sentinel, eyeing John warily as he approached. Without hesitation, John pleaded with this new guardian, his voice a mixture of desperation and determination, but his words fell on indifferent ears. As he tried to push his way through, the guard responded with a hard shove, sending John tumbling down the steps, his body crashing against the concrete with a painful thud. The stinging ache in his limbs was a stark reminder of his failure.
Defeated and with his options exhausted, John picked himself up, his body bruised from the encounter and his mind tormented by both worry for Ella and the shameful, forbidden desire stirring within him. The sensation of arousal, which he found repulsive yet undeniable, pulsed through him, adding to his turmoil. With a heavy heart and an erection that he despised yet could not ignore, John jogged back to his house, each step echoing the conflict raging inside him.
Back in their bedroom, John's attention was drawn to the top floor of the frat house which had a window which gave him a clear view into a bedroom where a haunting scene unfolded. His heart sank as he watched the frat boys carry a frantically struggling Ella into the room. Her arms flailed wildly, and her laughter echoed across the space between the houses as they positioned her on the bed. Ella was helplessly sprawled faceup on a bed, surrounded by four frat boys. One sat atop her arms, which were stretched above her head, his fingers tickling the silky skin, tracing maddening circles around her underarms, occasionally darting into the crevice with all his fingers to send her into louder fits of laughter and struggling. Her arms strained against his weight, futilely attempting to jerk free as laughter burst from her lips.
Another perched on her torso, his fingers roughly kneading the skin across her ribs and toned abdomen. He varied his technique, alternating between light strokes along her abs and firmer, more intense tickles that he put his whole body into. Ella's body bucked wildly beneath him, her laughter punctuated with pleading gasps as she tried but failed to escape the relentless tickling.
At the foot of the bed, the other two frat boys firmly took hold of Ella’s legs, positioning themselves on her thighs with an unsettling ease. Their strong hands gripped her ankles tightly, pinning them down and rendering her movements futile. John observed with agony and fascination as they began their torment over her sock-covered feet. One of the frat boys started by using the tips of his fingers to trace circles over the fabric encasing her heels, the pressure enough to stimulate the sensitive skin beneath without full intensity. Ella's body jolted as the tickling sensation filtered through the soft socks, her laughter bubbling up immediately. The other joined in, dragging his fingers along her arches slow, deliberate strokes. His fingers wove intricate patterns over the fabric, causing Ella to squirm and giggle helplessly, her laughter steadily rising in volume and intensity.
They continued their relentless tickling, varying their techniques to keep Ella on the edge of hysteria. Their fingers danced and scribbled across the fabric, making Ella laugh uncontrollably. "PLEASE! I Cahahant take it! I’ll AHAHAH DO ANHEEETHING! ANYTHING AAAAAHAHAHAH," she managed to scream amidst her hysteria. The continuous assault on her socked feet pushed her to the brink, her legs trembling with the effort to escape the tickling, but the frat boys' grip held her fast. After a few minutes of this torture, they decided to shift tactics, flipping her unceremoniously onto her stomach, her laughter morphing into shrieks of protests. Ignoring her pleas, they continued their tickling over her socked heels, raking their fingers up and down the sensitive spots, driving her into further fits of laughter.
With Ella now lying on her stomach, her socked feet were still their primary target. The frat boys resumed their tickling, focusing first on her heels, using their fingers to trace maddening patterns over the fabric. The sensation was intensified by the lotion still coating her feet, making the skin beneath the socks feel even softer and more vulnerable. One boy then began slowly peeling off the first sock, inch by agonizing inch, revealing the smooth, pink skin of her heel. As soon as the heel was half-exposed, he began tickling it directly, sending Ella into a fresh bout of laughter. "NO! PLEASE! NOT THE FEET! NOT THERE! NO LEAVE MY SOCKS ON PLEASE NOT THE FEHEHEEEET AHAHA JOHN HELP MEHEHEHEEE," she pleaded, her voice cracking with the strain of her laughter. The other mirrored his companion, peeling off the second sock with the same meticulous slowness. As more of her sole was revealed, he traced his fingers along her arches, teasing and tormenting the sensitive flesh. The lotion made her soles exceptionally soft and slick, amplifying the ticklish sensation. Ella's laughter reached new heights as both boys focused on her arches, their fingers scribbling and wiggling over the now fully exposed, pink, and tender skin. John's breath caught in his throat; the sight of her helpless feet being tickled so mercilessly was almost unbearable and painfully arousing.
In an attempt to shield her most ticklish spots, Ella clenched her toes tightly, scrunching up her soles to protect her toes from the forthcoming torture. The frat boys, however, had no intention of attacking her toes yet. They focused their efforts on her unprotected heels and the sensitive spot where her heel met her arch, areas that remained exposed despite her scrunched soles. Their fingers raked up and down these tender spots with intense ferocity, each stroke sending Ella into convulsions of laughter.Moving on, the boys began targeting her arches, using a variety of tickling methods to keep her on edge. They alternated between light, fluttery touches and deep, digging motions, ensuring the entirety of her soft, slick arches was mercilessly stimulated. Their fingers scribbled and raked over her arches, eliciting shrieks and wails from Ella, who struggled and squirmed under their relentless tickling assault. The intensity of the tickling never wavered, pushing her into an incessant frenzy of laughter and desperate squirming.
John, driven to desperation, dialed the police in a frantic attempt to seek help. He tried to keep his voice steady as he spoke into the phone. "You have to help! My wife has been kidnapped by a frat party next door," he pleaded. The operator's response was dismissive, almost flippant. "Sir, it's likely she's just having fun at the party. We get these calls all the time." John's frustration boiled over, and he stressed, "No, you don't understand! They're tickling her! She's super ticklish, especially on her feet—she can't stand it!" The operator laughed derisively on the other end of the line. "Are you joking, sir? Tickling isn't exactly a kidnapping." John's voice was stern and desperate. "I'm not joking. Please, you have to help!" The operator sighed, "Alright, we'll send a squad car, but it'll be a while. This isn't exactly an emergency."
As the frat boys temporarily ceased their tickling onslaught, the two at Ella's feet picked up a length of rope. They deftly worked to loop it around her big toes, their movements swift and precise. Ella squirmed and giggled uncontrollably, her toes clenching tightly in a futile attempt to thwart their efforts. "What are you doing!? OH MY GOD NOOO! I CANT EVEN MOVE MY FEET! YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME PLEASE! PLEAHEHEHASE AHAHAH," she begged, feeling the rope tighten around her digits. Once her toes were secured together, the frat boys tied the other end of the rope to the bed frame, stretching her toes out and rendering her feet utterly immobile. Then, they eagerly resumed their attack, their fingers raking over the soft, sensitive skin of her soles and scribbling between the delicate gaps of her toes. Ella cried out in desperate laughter, her pleas ringing through the room. "NO! NOT MY TOES! LEAVE THEM ALOHOONE! PLEAAAAAHAHASE!" Her laughter filled the air, her eyes wide with panic as she struggled against her bindings.
John watched the scene unfold with a mix of intense arousal and jealous frustration. He had always fantasized about giving Ella a session like this, exploring tickling her feet, which he found irresistibly sexy. But she had always refused him, citing her extreme sensitivity. Now, seeing someone else fulfill his deepest desires, he was torn between the shameful thrill of his arousal and the agonizing jealousy it provoked, as well as the guilt at being unable to help her in her time of need.
With her feet stretched out and immobilized, the frat boys introduced a new tool of torment: metal claw back scratchers. They brandished the implements with a cruel gleam in their eyes, pressing the claws against the soft, ticklish flesh of her soles. They dragged the scratchers relentlessly across her arches, the cold metal eliciting piercing shrieks and peals of laughter from Ella. "WHAT IS THAT? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? GET THAT AWAY FROM MY FEET! NO! NO!" she screamed, her laughter echoing through the room as the scratchers relentlessly scraped and dug into her soles with no mercy. Ella's eyes watered with tears of helplessness, her face contorted in a mix of laughter and despair as the relentless tickling pushed her to the edge of her endurance.
Her assailants showed no signs of relenting, continuing to attack her soles with the back scratchers. The metal claws traced intricate patterns over the soft arches of her feet, leaving no inch of her sensitive soles untouched. Ella's laughter turned hysterical, her body writhing against the ropes that bound her. Her feet struggled to no avail, the muscles in her soles tensing and quivering under the brutal tickling. Each scrape of the scratchers sent shivers of ticklish agony through her, causing her to arch her back in a futile attempt to escape the torment.
As if the back scratchers were not enough, the frat boys introduced electric toothbrushes, turning them on with a menacing buzz. They applied the brushes to her stretched-out toes, the rapid vibrations sending Ella into a new wave of ticklish agony. The back scratchers continued their merciless assault on her soles while the toothbrushes danced between her toes, teasing the sensitive spaces between them. "NO! NOT THE TOOTHBRUSHES! PLEASE! YOU’RE DRIVING ME INSANE! AHAHAH LEAVE MY TOES ALOHOONE! PLEAAAAASE!" Ella's laughter and pleading filled the room, her voice hoarse from the continuous tickling. Her feet shook helplessly, the soft, pampered skin trembling under the dual assault. The sensation of the brushes against her toes was unbearably ticklish, driving her to the brink of madness as tears streamed down her cheeks, her eyes wide with desperation.
John felt himself zoning out completely as he watched the relentless tickling of his wife's feet, the entire world fading away until only the sight and sound of Ella's merciless tickle torture remained. It was as if his greatest fantasy had come to life before his eyes, a fantasy he had suppressed for so long. His breath caught in his throat, the room beginning to spin as his arousal surged to an unbearable peak. The intense visual and auditory stimulation was too much and he felt a powerful surge through his body, an explosion of pleasure that left him clinging to the wall for support. As his orgasm wracked his body, his pants soaked with the wet spot growing larger by the second, John lost control entirely, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. The sound of Ella's laughter, ringing in his ears, was the only thing anchoring him to reality.
As the waves of pleasure subsided, a heavy sense of shame washed over John. He slumped against the wall, the realization dawning on him that he was helpless to do anything more than wait for the police to arrive. Just then, someone in the frat house noticed him watching through the window. With a swift motion, the shades were drawn, cutting off his view completely. John felt a pang of desperation and frustration—not only was he robbed of the perverse pleasure of watching the show, but now he was also left ignorant of how his wife was being tormented further. Yet, the sounds of Ella's laughter and pleas continued to reach him, muffled but undeniable. Through the closed shades, he could only see faint silhouettes moving, giving him no useful information about what was transpiring inside. The tickling continued for about ten more minutes, the sounds of Ella's desperate begging growing increasingly frantic. "PLEASE! I’LL DO ANYTHING! AAAAAHAHANYTHING! JUST STOP TICKLING ME! I CAAAHAHANT TAKE IT ANYMORE! PLEAHEHEHEASE!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the night, and then it went quiet for John, unable to hear what was happening now that Ella’s screamed laughter had subsided.
At the end of her begging, the frat guys took her up on her desperate offer. "Alright, sweetheart, we'll fuck your brains out then," one of them said with a wicked grin, and Ella, desperate for any reprieve from the tickling, agreed without hesitation. "Yes, yes! Just don't tickle my feet anymore! I don't care what you do, just PLEASE stop tickling them!"
With that, they untied her toes and stripped her naked, positioning her on the bed in a doggy-style position. One thrust his large cock into her mouth, stretching her lips wide as he fucked her face with deep, relentless strokes. His hands gripped her hair tightly, guiding her movements. Another positioned himself behind her, his enormous member plunging into her pussy with deep thrusts, starting out slowly in order to give her time to stretch and acclimate. As he sped up, he held onto her hips, driving into her with a force that made her gasp and moan. A Hitachi vibrator was pressed firmly against her clit, its powerful vibrations sending shockwaves through her body and making her eyes roll back into her head. The sensation was so intense, so overwhelming, that Ella's legs began to tremble immediately.
Two of them remained at her feet, their tongues lapping gently at her pampered soles. One focused on her arches, his tongue tracing lazy circles that made her toes twitch in pleasure. His warm breath against her sensitive skin added another layer of sensation, drawing out moans from Ella's throat. The other boy delicately licked between her toes, each flick of his tongue sending shivers up her spine while he ever so gently grazed a single finger along the rest of her sole. The stark contrast between the earlier tickling and this gentle, sensual attention to her feet heightened Ella's pleasure to an almost unbearable level. She was lost in a world of sensations, the intense pleasure from the fucking and the vibrator mixing with the tender, tickling caresses on her feet, creating a whirlwind of ecstasy that consumed her entirely.
Ella's first orgasm hit with the force of a tsunami, her legs shaking uncontrollably as waves of pleasure coursed through her. Her mascara ran in black streaks down her cheeks, mingling with the remnants of her earlier tears of laughter. She moaned loudly around the cock in her mouth, her wails of ecstasy barely reaching John as muffled sounds through the closed shades. Her pussy clenched around the large cock inside her, squirting for the first time, soaking the bed beneath them as her toes clenched, not deterring the two at her feet from continuing.
The frat members continued working her over, the Hitachi pressed firmly against her clit as they pleasured her relentlessly. Another orgasm built swiftly, her moans growing louder and more desperate. Her body convulsed against the relentless pounding, her legs trembling as she squirted again, her juices gushing out in powerful spurts. The sensation was overwhelming; she had never experienced pleasure this intense, her mind lost in a haze of ecstasy.
As the third orgasm hit, Ella's wails of pleasure were almost animalistic, her body bucking wildly against the frat boys. Her mascara was a mess now, smudged and running down her face, a testament to the sheer intensity of the orgasms tearing through her. Her pussy clenched and released around the huge cock inside her, each squirt sending tremors through her body. The gentle licking of her feet only heightened the experience, adding layers of sensation that pushed her into another world.
John, standing helplessly outside, could only catch faint whimpers and moans through the closed shades. The primal noises Ella made were muffled by the cock in her mouth, so what John could hear was barely decipherable, and he couldn't place what was happening. Meanwhile, Ella was lost in a world of pure pleasure, her body overwhelmed by the most intense orgasms of her life. They rotated positions to give themselves breaks, ensuring she remained in a state of continuous ecstasy for nearly an hour.
When the single squad car finally pulled up, its red and blue lights casting fleeting shadows on the lawn of the frat house, John rushed out to meet it. His appearance was disheveled, his hair a mess, and the noticeable wet spot on his pants left no doubt about his earlier encounter. The officer, a stern-looking man in his forties, gave John a dismissive glance, his eyes lingering on the stain. Desperate, John tried to explain the situation with increasing urgency. "Officer, my wife is in there! They're holding her against her will and tickle torturing her—I'm not sure what else they're doing!" The officer rolled his eyes but nodded, agreeing to investigate. After a short exchange with the bouncer at the entrance, the officer was allowed entry into the frat house. To John, the wait felt like a tortuous eternity fueled by anxiety and the concern for his wife.
When the officer finally returned, his face wore a smug grin that made John's stomach drop. "Your wife is fine, better than fine, actually. She's enjoying herself and will be staying a bit longer," the officer informed him before giving one last disgusted look and driving off. John stood there, defeated and overwhelmed by emotions—anger, helplessness, and jealousy.
John returned to his house, the faint sounds of pleasure barely reaching him through the closed shades. The muffled noises were indistinguishable, a distant mix of moans and wails that pierced him with each wave. He tried to convince himself that it couldn't be as bad as he imagined, that Ella was just caught up in the moment. But deep down, he knew better. The undeniable truth was that the thoughts of what was unfolding inside the frat house had him rock hard again, his arousal a mixture of guilt and debilitating desire.
Inside the frat house, Ella was lost in a whirlwind of ecstasy, her mind disassociating from her body as the frat boys continued to pleasure her beyond her wildest dreams. She had never known it was possible to feel this good, to be pushed to these extremes of pleasure. They took turns with her, their big cocks driving into her relentlessly, stretching her and making her see stars. The Hitachi, still pressed firmly against her swollen clit, sent continuous waves of pleasure coursing through her system. Her legs trembled incessantly, the vibrations compounded by the large member pounding into her soaked pussy and the other thrusting deep into her willing mouth.
As the intensity built, the frat boys decided to finish, their orgasms imminent. Some of them pulled out, directing their hot cum onto her feet, marking the perfect soles as theirs. Others aimed for her face, the sticky fluid running down her cheeks, mixing with the mascara that had already begun to smear from the rigorous fucking. The rest landed on her back, the warmth of their release sending shivers down her spine.
The final act was the most intense. They flipped her onto her back, the Hitachi still buzzing against her clit. One frat boy leaned in to kiss her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth with a fervent intensity. Another played with her nipples, rolling them between his fingers and lips and sending sparks of pleasure through her body. The remaining two continued their worship of her feet, their tongues caressing the sensitive soles and between her toes. It was too much for Ella to handle, her body arching off the bed as she was driven to yet another earth-shattering orgasm, her scream muffled by the passion of the kiss. She squirted powerfully, the bed soaked beneath her, her body trembling uncontrollably as wave after wave of pleasure overwhelmed her.
Completely drained and spent, Ella lay there for a moment, basking in the aftershocks of her orgasm. Slowly, she gathered the strength to rise, her legs shaky and unsteady. Her mascara was a mess, running down her face and mixing with the cum that clung to her skin. Her hair was tousled, evidence of the wild pleasure she had experienced. She hobbled back toward her house, still covered in cum, her mind in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss.
When she finally arrived, John rushed to her side, his eyes wide with concern. "Are you okay? What happened? Tell me everything," he demanded, firing off a million questions as he inspected her for any signs of harm. His arousal battled with his worry, the conflict evident in his disheveled appearance and the tension in his voice.
Ella looked at him, her eyes narrowing as she took in the wet mess on his pants. "You got turned on by this? Are you serious, John? You're disgusting!" she snapped, her voice laced with anger and disbelief. John flinched at her words, his face flushing with shame. "I... I couldn't help it. It's always been a fantasy of mine to tickle you, especially your perfect feet, but you've never let me," he confessed, his voice trembling with helplessness and embarrassment. "It just happened, and I swear I wasn't trying to. I did everything I could to save you—I called the cops, I got shoved down the stairs. I'm so sorry, Ella."
She considered his response for a moment, her initial anger softening as she saw the genuine remorse and confusion in his eyes. "So, it's been your fantasy all this time?" she asked, her tone shifting slightly. "And you were turned on by them tickling me... but what about the rest of it? Were you turned on by everything that happened?" Her voice took on a teasing edge as she watched him squirm, observing as his pants started to tent from his renewed arousal.
John nodded weakly, his cheeks burning red. "Yes, but I know it's wrong. I just... it's complicated."
A smile played at the corner of Ella's lips as she realized the power she now held over him. "Maybe you need to hear all the juicy details," she said, her voice seductive yet taunting. "Maybe it'll help you understand what you're feeling." As she spoke, a wicked idea formed in her mind, one that would keep John entranced and under her control.
She took him up to their bed and pushed him onto it, climbing on top of him, and began to recount her ordeal, her voice softening slightly as she teased his penis with her fingers ever so gently. Holding his penis and using just her thumb to stroke the underside, she told him,"They tickled me until I couldn't breathe, John. Their fingers danced all over my body – my armpits, my ribs, my stomach. And then they got to my feet," she whispered, her feet rubbing gently against his face, pushing onto his lips. She then held them up to show him how they were pink tinged from the intense tickling. "They peeled off my socks so slowly, tickling every inch of my heels, my arches, my toes. It was unbearable."
John's erection strained in her hand, seeking more stimulation, but not needing it, as she continued, her thumb teasing him softly. "And then they started fucking me," she said, her voice a seductive purr. "Their cocks were huge, John. So much bigger than yours. One of them fucked my mouth while another pounded my pussy. And they had this super strong vibrator on my clit. I came so hard, John. I've never felt anything like it. And they sucked my toes and licked my soles the entire time. It was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt."
As she spoke, John's arousal built to a crescendo. Ella's teasing, her detailed recounting of her ordeal, and the sensation of her feet against his face brought him to the edge. Finally, she told John, “Imagine being there, seeing your wife get double teamed, squirting all over the bed, all while two of them were tickling and playing with my feet. I bet you would have loved to be a part of that, wouldn’t you,” All of a sudden, even the gentle stroking of her thumb was too much for him to handle. With a final orgasm, so intense he couldn't help but cry out and thrust into the air, he came, his penis pulsing wildly as she continued to rub it at the same maddeningly slow and gentle cadence.
In the days that followed, Ella laid out the new rules: no orgasms for John during the week. He would be locked in chastity to make sure he couldn’t “cheat, and she made sure to keep him well teased all week long, so by the time the weekend rolled around, he was beside himself with arousal, so frustrated and horny it was all he could think about. Every Saturday night, she would return to the frat house, the shades drawn so John could hear but not see. She would unlock his cage but tie him down to prevent any 'accidents', leaving him to listen helplessly to her laughter and begging, and then the faint sounds of her pleasure all night. When she returned, she would sit on the bed, her feet on his face, and recount every detail of her night while gently teasing his penis with feathers, makeup brushes, paintbrushes, a single finger, and if he was lucky, slow light licks from her tongue, all until he would erupt into orgasms so powerful they made him dizzy.
As the weeks turned into months, this became their new routine. Ella reveled in her newfound sexual freedom, indulging in the wild pleasure the frat offered her. John, on the other hand, learned to live with the constant state of arousal and denial, his orgasms on the weekends the only release he was allowed, and he was completely addicted. The dynamic between them shifted, with Ella in control and John a willing, albeit frustrated, participant in their new, perverse arrangement.
Shortly after their arrangement became commonplace, John endured a torturous wait for his weekly release. Throughout the week, Ella kept him in a constant state of arousal and frustration with her feet. She would rub them all over him, making him suck her toes, and use her feet to tease him sensually while he was locked in his chastity cage. She described in explicit detail what the frat boys were going to do to her on the upcoming Saturday—tickling, fucking her into oblivion, and making her cum her brains out. By Tuesday, John's cage was constantly leaking precum, and his arousal was palpable, yet all he could do was tolerate it, clinging to the promise of his release on Saturday.
When Saturday finally arrived, Ella went and got a pedicure, ensuring her feet were impeccably soft. Upon her return, she tied John to the bed and unlocked his chastity cage. She peppered his small erection with teasing kisses, fueling his arousal even further. A puddle of precum formed on his stomach as he moaned and thrust into the air, his penis twitching uncontrollably. Ella then changed into a tight, form-fitting black dress that accentuated her curves and complemented it with sexy open-toed flats. With a final, lingering kiss on John's throbbing member, she headed off to the frat house, leaving him bound and on edge.
Within a few minutes, John could hear his wife's laughter and desperate pleas echoing from the frat house next door. "PLEASE! NO MORE NOT MY FEEEET! I’LL DO ANYTHING! AAAAAHAHAANYTHING!" Ella begged, her voice teetering on the edge of hysteria. "I'LL MOVE IN WITH YOU! YES! YES! AHAHA NAHAHT THE TOES!" came another shout, her laughter filling the air. As the tickling intensified, she offered every sexual favor imaginable, her pleas growing more and more frantic. "I’LL SUCK YOU ALL OFF! I’LL BE YOUR SLAVE! JUST STOP TICKLING ME! PLEAHEHEASE!" John lay there, his penis throbbing and twitching against his restraints, imagining the scene unfolding as his wife's laughter and desperate cries washed over him. The thought of Ella being coerced into progressively more intense concessions through tickling her feet was unbearably arousing, though a part of him hoped her offers weren't genuine.
After the tickling ceased, John could hear the sounds of her ecstasy begin. The frat boys had come to some sort of agreement, and the grunts and moans from his wife suggested she was experiencing a level of pleasure far beyond what he could ever provide. He listened intently, imagining them servicing her in ways he never could, bringing her to one earth-shattering orgasm after another.
Finally, Ella returned home, mascara running and breathing heavily. Without a word, she climbed onto the bed and placed her perfect feet on John's face. His erection was already rock hard, with an ample pool of precum ready to be used as lube. She selected a feather from her array of teasing implements and began to gently stroke his shaft and frenulum with slow, deliberate motions.
John responded immediately to the feather's touch, his moans filled with desperation. Ella laughed at his reaction. "How did they tickle you today?" John asked, his voice strained with need.
"They've got this padded chair with stocks now," Ella replied teasingly. "They locked my feet in and went to town. Look how pink they are from being ravaged by those mean frat guys. I was begging and pleading for them to stop, but there was nothing I could do." She paused, her voice softening as she continued, "Then they started tying my toes back, spreading them apart so they could tickle between them with their fingers and toothbrushes. I was laughing so hard and begging so much, I offered them anything to stop, but they just kept going."
John's breath hitched as the feather continued its slow, maddening strokes. His cock twitched violently, and he thrust his hips into the air, seeking more stimulation that would never come. The feather's gentle touch was torturous, slowly building up an orgasm at her pace. Ella's laughter at his desperation only added to his frustration. His chest heaved, his need growing with each painstaking second, his moans transforming into desperate whimpers as his wife teased him mercilessly.
"They made me promise them something, an agreement to get out of the stocks and get the fucking I needed," Ella added mysteriously.
John's curiosity was piqued, but his need overshadowed it. "What was it?" he asked breathlessly.
"I'll tell you later," she said with a teasing smile. She then recounted the details of her sexual encounter with the frat boys, how they made her cum over and over, fulfilling her every desire. "You know what? Two of them even started tickling my feet while another one fucked me. I came so many times from that."
Her words, combined with the feather's relentless teasing, pushed John closer and closer to the edge. Each detail, each touch of her feet on his face, brought him nearer to the climax he so desperately craved. But just as he was about to tip over the edge, Ella halted the feather's strokes, leaving him moaning and thrusting, longing for release.
She pulled the feather away at the last second, his penis bobbing and twitching in frustration, leaking copious amounts of precum. John begged her, his voice laced with desperation, "Please, Ella, I need it so bad."
Ella couldn't contain her amusement at his pleading. "You know what they made me promise? I'm sorry, sweetie, but I can't make you cum this week." She gave him another stroke with the feather, bringing him right to the edge again.
"No, baby, please! Don't do this," John cried out, trying to appeal to her mercy. Another stroke, another agonizing edge—his eyes rolled back into his head in frustration. He was so close, just a few more strokes would send him into the most powerful orgasm of his life. His moans and thrusts took on a pathetic, desperate edge as Ella giggled at his predicament.
"Baby, I can't go against our agreement... not after they made me cum like that," she teased, giving him another stroke with the feather and keeping him right on the brink. He whimpered, his rock-hard cock betraying his intense arousal.
The realization that the frat boys had a level of control over his orgasms—that they could dictate his denial through their access to Ella's feet—intensified his arousal even further. The fact that she was choosing to obey them over him was maddening. In sheer desperation, he pulled at his bonds, trying to break free, begging Ella to just push him over the edge. But he was met only with her giggles and another slow stroke along his shaft and the head of his penis.
For thirty more minutes, she continued this torturous tease. John begged, pleaded, tears streaming down his face as he pulled at his restraints, whining like a baby for his wife to give him relief. Ella giggled, feigning regret, and said she was sorry but couldn't help him, while delivering slow, deliberate strokes with the feather and recounting more salacious details of her night. She even continued long after he started crying, pushing him to the very limits of his frustration.
Finally, when she deemed him sufficiently tormented, Ella locked him back into his chastity cage, wiping the tears from his eyes and giving him a gentle kiss. She untied him and cuddled beside him, whispering tenderly into his ear, "Maybe next week..."
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