Jaynin
4th Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Jul 12, 2003
- Messages
- 1,979
- Points
- 0
It was the most delightful dilemma ever.
Rina Taochi was deathly ticklish, like all the women of the Taochi family. And all the men, too. Her body was afflicted with the infamous Taochi curse, and while the curse brought some blessings, they were blessings of the kind that could be eagerly exploited by the dark elves that had made themselves at home in her apartment. She was one hundred and fifty years old at this point, but looked to be in her early thirties, a kind of bewitching beauty about her that made her lips seem to smirk with promises of hidden pleasure when she smiled at the young men whose imaginations were far too active for their own good. But Rina usually tickled those boys witless once she had drawn them into her clutches. It wasn't difficult to do when your breasts were firm and round and your body amply proportioned; Rina was no twig, nor did she care to be. Enticing boys and tickling them was so deliciously easy, which is why it must have been some kind of infernal payback that she now had four dark elves that roamed about her apartment at will. And oh, what a dilemma, with those boys. They were just the kind that Rina loved to tempt, but unlike the mortal humans she could easily bewitch and overpower, these dark elf males were resistant to her charms, and they made her pay whenever she tried to use them. Oh, did they make her pay.
It was torture. He had her pressed up against the wall, both he and she fully naked. His thrusting shaft was inside of her, but she could hardly tell with the way he stroked those brushes against her ribs. Slightly rough, white bristles stroked her skin endlessly, driving screams of helpless laughter from her throat. No one would hear; Rina herself had warded the apartment against escaping sound, employing the demonic powers which all Taochi women could use to one degree or another. And that was probably a good thing, that no one could hear right now. She was screaming loudly enough to wake the dead as those bristles tormented her ribs, an unearthly compulsion whispering teases within her mind, telling her not to defend herself against it. It wasn't a question of bondage but of willpower; despite the fact that she thought she desperately wanted to cover her ribs, she couldn't muster the effort to do it, not with that unspoken voice murmuring in her mind. There was another consideration aside from whatever bewitchment these boys had put her under; she knew that when they had tickled her as much as they cared to, immediately following was amazing sex and powerful orgasms. So despite Rina Taochi's intense ticklishness, despite the fact that every fiber of her being screamed with ticklish agony, she couldn't make herself fight back.
Not right now, when she was pressed up against the wall of her bedroom, still blinking sleep from her eyes as her body woke up without her. Nor later, after coffee and breakfast, when she was pinned against the couch, or cornered in the shower, or trapped against the floor. They would tickle and tickle and tickle her ageless body until she screamed helplessly, the curse infusing her blood, her body having grown only more sensitive with the years. A helpless moan escaped her lips as lust temporarily overtook ticklishness when he shifted his grip, but then the brushes scrubbed her underarms, and Rina Taochi laughed so hard she almost cried, her chest jiggling with ragged, deep breaths that she was forced to take, helplessly trying to keep up with that insane tickling. Her sex dripped with wetness, receptive to the intruding rod that tormented her with the promise of an orgasm that hovered just out of reach. She tried to beg him to tickle less and fuck more. Promises to let him use her mouth, her breasts, anywhere he wanted died on her tongue, laughed into oblivion before she could voice them. He wouldn't have listened anyway, they never did. The sex when the tickling was done was so good as to make her very core rumble with an earthquake of pleasure that caused her to tremble, so good did it feel. In waves it would pulse over her body, making her contract and arch by turns, until she thought that her body might never move again.
Sometimes they tricked her. Sometimes she would get sex first, and then be tickled after, body so sensitive that she wanted to howl with ticklish agony. But they never tied her up. If she could manage to bring herself to sit upright and wrap her arms helplessly around a strong neck, they would tickle her sides and her back and her ass. Everywhere was ticklish, with Rina. Everywhere. There was no escaping it.
An orgasmic cry ripped from her throat, the powerful pleasure overtaking her within moments of the tickling's cessation. Unthinkingly she wrapped her arms around his neck and turned her head upward and back to kiss him, feeling his hands tease her nipples, bouncing her firm and nicely shaped breasts and rubbing his slick cock between her thighs. Then with a slight tease he nibbled on her ear and told her it was time to have breakfast, that she mustn't forget to eat or she wouldn't have the energy to be tickled again. Rina whined, but she knew that he was right. They took good care of her, they did. As she left her bedroom, preceding the dark elf, she went down the short hall and heard the shower running. In the combination living room and kitchen, she saw the other two as well, one watching TV and the other cooking breakfast. They wore short, tight undergarments that Rina couldn't help but slide her fingers down. The dark elves ranged from broad-shouldered and firm-chested to the wiry, mischievous, flexible one to the two of average build and height that might have been unremarkable had she not been able to tell them apart at all.
The smell of frying bacon did make her stomach rumble, and so she sat at the table, smiling as a serving of bacon and scrambled eggs with toast was slid in front of her. Coffee, too, appeared. "Be careful on the coffee," one of the identical twins teased her, the one responsible for today's breakfast. "You'll pee yourself if you drink too much." Rina knew it was true. They'd tickle her ribs and sides after she drank coffee as a reminder, until she ran squealing for the bathroom. The mischief-maker, who'd awakened her this morning with a feather to her slit, went to join his compatriot in watching TV. Rina attacked the delicious food voraciously, trying not to lose herself in the seductive smirk of the dark elf seated nearby. Despite the inherent tease in the way his fingers walked along her shoulder and down the back of her neck, Rina knew he wouldn't tickle until her food had digested. They were always careful to make sure that she was comfortable, or else it wouldn't tickle as much. So she ate unhurriedly, observing the dark elves who were more like rowdy but caring older brothers than captors. Rina smirked to herself. Of course, older brothers wouldn't fuck her silly, but they certainly would tickle-torture her every chance they possibly got...
Rina finished her breakfast and then went to take a shower some time later, after cuddling and kissing with the two that teased her on the couch. It occurred to her that, as she went to the bathroom, the sound of the shower running was still audible. But the door wasn't locked, and when she opened it, the broad-shouldered one smiled down at her, and Rina felt that overpowering compulsion to make herself vulnerable. But she resisted. She loved resisting. Resisting made being broken more fun. And she knew that the shower would be soap and brushes. That was absolute torture. Once she had gone into the stall shower, where the water was already running and warmed to the temperature she liked, he came in behind her and closed the door. In the stall, there was nowhere to run, and the brushes came as she expected. As she had hoped.
Rina howled again with laughter, the second time that morning. She squealed as the brushes soaped up her ribs and her breasts, tickling them with precise care and stroking her vulnerable spots without mercy. She gasped and tried to press back against him when he tickled her hips and sides, but her rear end pressed against his hard cock, and that distracted her greatly. The brushes tickled down firmly over her stomach, teasing and scrubbing against her waist, meticulously avoiding her wet petals, and then stroked down over her legs and reached behind her knees. She had no defense against that at all, because of how she was pinned in the narrow shower, and the brushes were rough enough to tickle skin slicked by soap and water. Rina screamed hysterically, trying to turn around at least, to save her front, but he had pressed up too firmly against her to allow that, his body between her and the door as he pressed her against one of the side walls. The surface was smooth, slick, not cold linoleum tile but a warmer vinyl surface, and she scrabbled uselessly for purchase as his tormenting brushes scrubbed on her legs.
He abandoned the pretense of washing her and instead just scrubbed at her ribs again, like the other had done before. It wasn't like he had much choice; he had to use brushes, and that was the most vulnerable spot he could reach. The ticklishness was overpowering. The soft patter of the water soaked both of their bodies. Like time itself dissolved and flowed over her body, meaningless and endless, because all that mattered was the tickling. She could feel the stiff cock pressed against her lower back, but he wouldn't put it inside of her, not yet. He was going to tickle her more. Rina loved that. She hated it. She was so horny and tickling just made her hornier. And she couldn't stand being tickled. Even soaked like this, she was still ticklish. She would be even more ticklish, he would be even more relentless, when he got her again later. The one who showered with her was always more eager to make her howl afterwards, and she never had just one encounter with them per day. No, they'd tickle her constantly, until her skin felt like it was glowing with ticklishness. Surely it seemed that she must be rubbed raw, but it never happened.
The water flowed on. He kept tickling her, but his shaft rubbed against her now. He was getting horny, and with abrupt suddenness he turned her around, dropped the brushes, and picked her up so he could press her back against the wall. Rina's long dark hair fell down her back, and her long legs locked around his waist, arms around his neck, so they could meet in a mind-shattering kiss. The woman was sure that she would orgasm from the first thrust, but his powerful strokes hammered so deeply within her that she felt like she was being shaken apart from the inside. Yet even if she were to crumble into dust because of this, it just felt too good to care. Her world whirled in heat, wetness, vibration, the indescribable sensation of kissing. An orgasm bubbled up from within her somewhere, ribs tingling with the memory of ticklishness, and with an almost animal fury she climaxed, thrusting herself down upon the ebony rod that pierced her...
Rina dried herself off and went to dress. Nothing too substantial... she settled on an old tank top and small old pair of shorts. When she came back out to the living room, her decision proved to be wise, as hands went up inside her top to start tickling her underarms almost immediately, and as she was laid out on the couch, Rina found that she didn't care what the time was. How long she had been getting this kind of attention didn't matter, because she'd gotten it yesterday, was getting it today, and she'd get it tomorrow, as well...
Rina Taochi was deathly ticklish, like all the women of the Taochi family. And all the men, too. Her body was afflicted with the infamous Taochi curse, and while the curse brought some blessings, they were blessings of the kind that could be eagerly exploited by the dark elves that had made themselves at home in her apartment. She was one hundred and fifty years old at this point, but looked to be in her early thirties, a kind of bewitching beauty about her that made her lips seem to smirk with promises of hidden pleasure when she smiled at the young men whose imaginations were far too active for their own good. But Rina usually tickled those boys witless once she had drawn them into her clutches. It wasn't difficult to do when your breasts were firm and round and your body amply proportioned; Rina was no twig, nor did she care to be. Enticing boys and tickling them was so deliciously easy, which is why it must have been some kind of infernal payback that she now had four dark elves that roamed about her apartment at will. And oh, what a dilemma, with those boys. They were just the kind that Rina loved to tempt, but unlike the mortal humans she could easily bewitch and overpower, these dark elf males were resistant to her charms, and they made her pay whenever she tried to use them. Oh, did they make her pay.
It was torture. He had her pressed up against the wall, both he and she fully naked. His thrusting shaft was inside of her, but she could hardly tell with the way he stroked those brushes against her ribs. Slightly rough, white bristles stroked her skin endlessly, driving screams of helpless laughter from her throat. No one would hear; Rina herself had warded the apartment against escaping sound, employing the demonic powers which all Taochi women could use to one degree or another. And that was probably a good thing, that no one could hear right now. She was screaming loudly enough to wake the dead as those bristles tormented her ribs, an unearthly compulsion whispering teases within her mind, telling her not to defend herself against it. It wasn't a question of bondage but of willpower; despite the fact that she thought she desperately wanted to cover her ribs, she couldn't muster the effort to do it, not with that unspoken voice murmuring in her mind. There was another consideration aside from whatever bewitchment these boys had put her under; she knew that when they had tickled her as much as they cared to, immediately following was amazing sex and powerful orgasms. So despite Rina Taochi's intense ticklishness, despite the fact that every fiber of her being screamed with ticklish agony, she couldn't make herself fight back.
Not right now, when she was pressed up against the wall of her bedroom, still blinking sleep from her eyes as her body woke up without her. Nor later, after coffee and breakfast, when she was pinned against the couch, or cornered in the shower, or trapped against the floor. They would tickle and tickle and tickle her ageless body until she screamed helplessly, the curse infusing her blood, her body having grown only more sensitive with the years. A helpless moan escaped her lips as lust temporarily overtook ticklishness when he shifted his grip, but then the brushes scrubbed her underarms, and Rina Taochi laughed so hard she almost cried, her chest jiggling with ragged, deep breaths that she was forced to take, helplessly trying to keep up with that insane tickling. Her sex dripped with wetness, receptive to the intruding rod that tormented her with the promise of an orgasm that hovered just out of reach. She tried to beg him to tickle less and fuck more. Promises to let him use her mouth, her breasts, anywhere he wanted died on her tongue, laughed into oblivion before she could voice them. He wouldn't have listened anyway, they never did. The sex when the tickling was done was so good as to make her very core rumble with an earthquake of pleasure that caused her to tremble, so good did it feel. In waves it would pulse over her body, making her contract and arch by turns, until she thought that her body might never move again.
Sometimes they tricked her. Sometimes she would get sex first, and then be tickled after, body so sensitive that she wanted to howl with ticklish agony. But they never tied her up. If she could manage to bring herself to sit upright and wrap her arms helplessly around a strong neck, they would tickle her sides and her back and her ass. Everywhere was ticklish, with Rina. Everywhere. There was no escaping it.
An orgasmic cry ripped from her throat, the powerful pleasure overtaking her within moments of the tickling's cessation. Unthinkingly she wrapped her arms around his neck and turned her head upward and back to kiss him, feeling his hands tease her nipples, bouncing her firm and nicely shaped breasts and rubbing his slick cock between her thighs. Then with a slight tease he nibbled on her ear and told her it was time to have breakfast, that she mustn't forget to eat or she wouldn't have the energy to be tickled again. Rina whined, but she knew that he was right. They took good care of her, they did. As she left her bedroom, preceding the dark elf, she went down the short hall and heard the shower running. In the combination living room and kitchen, she saw the other two as well, one watching TV and the other cooking breakfast. They wore short, tight undergarments that Rina couldn't help but slide her fingers down. The dark elves ranged from broad-shouldered and firm-chested to the wiry, mischievous, flexible one to the two of average build and height that might have been unremarkable had she not been able to tell them apart at all.
The smell of frying bacon did make her stomach rumble, and so she sat at the table, smiling as a serving of bacon and scrambled eggs with toast was slid in front of her. Coffee, too, appeared. "Be careful on the coffee," one of the identical twins teased her, the one responsible for today's breakfast. "You'll pee yourself if you drink too much." Rina knew it was true. They'd tickle her ribs and sides after she drank coffee as a reminder, until she ran squealing for the bathroom. The mischief-maker, who'd awakened her this morning with a feather to her slit, went to join his compatriot in watching TV. Rina attacked the delicious food voraciously, trying not to lose herself in the seductive smirk of the dark elf seated nearby. Despite the inherent tease in the way his fingers walked along her shoulder and down the back of her neck, Rina knew he wouldn't tickle until her food had digested. They were always careful to make sure that she was comfortable, or else it wouldn't tickle as much. So she ate unhurriedly, observing the dark elves who were more like rowdy but caring older brothers than captors. Rina smirked to herself. Of course, older brothers wouldn't fuck her silly, but they certainly would tickle-torture her every chance they possibly got...
Rina finished her breakfast and then went to take a shower some time later, after cuddling and kissing with the two that teased her on the couch. It occurred to her that, as she went to the bathroom, the sound of the shower running was still audible. But the door wasn't locked, and when she opened it, the broad-shouldered one smiled down at her, and Rina felt that overpowering compulsion to make herself vulnerable. But she resisted. She loved resisting. Resisting made being broken more fun. And she knew that the shower would be soap and brushes. That was absolute torture. Once she had gone into the stall shower, where the water was already running and warmed to the temperature she liked, he came in behind her and closed the door. In the stall, there was nowhere to run, and the brushes came as she expected. As she had hoped.
Rina howled again with laughter, the second time that morning. She squealed as the brushes soaped up her ribs and her breasts, tickling them with precise care and stroking her vulnerable spots without mercy. She gasped and tried to press back against him when he tickled her hips and sides, but her rear end pressed against his hard cock, and that distracted her greatly. The brushes tickled down firmly over her stomach, teasing and scrubbing against her waist, meticulously avoiding her wet petals, and then stroked down over her legs and reached behind her knees. She had no defense against that at all, because of how she was pinned in the narrow shower, and the brushes were rough enough to tickle skin slicked by soap and water. Rina screamed hysterically, trying to turn around at least, to save her front, but he had pressed up too firmly against her to allow that, his body between her and the door as he pressed her against one of the side walls. The surface was smooth, slick, not cold linoleum tile but a warmer vinyl surface, and she scrabbled uselessly for purchase as his tormenting brushes scrubbed on her legs.
He abandoned the pretense of washing her and instead just scrubbed at her ribs again, like the other had done before. It wasn't like he had much choice; he had to use brushes, and that was the most vulnerable spot he could reach. The ticklishness was overpowering. The soft patter of the water soaked both of their bodies. Like time itself dissolved and flowed over her body, meaningless and endless, because all that mattered was the tickling. She could feel the stiff cock pressed against her lower back, but he wouldn't put it inside of her, not yet. He was going to tickle her more. Rina loved that. She hated it. She was so horny and tickling just made her hornier. And she couldn't stand being tickled. Even soaked like this, she was still ticklish. She would be even more ticklish, he would be even more relentless, when he got her again later. The one who showered with her was always more eager to make her howl afterwards, and she never had just one encounter with them per day. No, they'd tickle her constantly, until her skin felt like it was glowing with ticklishness. Surely it seemed that she must be rubbed raw, but it never happened.
The water flowed on. He kept tickling her, but his shaft rubbed against her now. He was getting horny, and with abrupt suddenness he turned her around, dropped the brushes, and picked her up so he could press her back against the wall. Rina's long dark hair fell down her back, and her long legs locked around his waist, arms around his neck, so they could meet in a mind-shattering kiss. The woman was sure that she would orgasm from the first thrust, but his powerful strokes hammered so deeply within her that she felt like she was being shaken apart from the inside. Yet even if she were to crumble into dust because of this, it just felt too good to care. Her world whirled in heat, wetness, vibration, the indescribable sensation of kissing. An orgasm bubbled up from within her somewhere, ribs tingling with the memory of ticklishness, and with an almost animal fury she climaxed, thrusting herself down upon the ebony rod that pierced her...
Rina dried herself off and went to dress. Nothing too substantial... she settled on an old tank top and small old pair of shorts. When she came back out to the living room, her decision proved to be wise, as hands went up inside her top to start tickling her underarms almost immediately, and as she was laid out on the couch, Rina found that she didn't care what the time was. How long she had been getting this kind of attention didn't matter, because she'd gotten it yesterday, was getting it today, and she'd get it tomorrow, as well...
