P_Bustleton
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- Joined
- Dec 23, 2001
- Messages
- 476
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- 16
I had an an amazing, unexpected experience this past weekend that needs to be shared. This is the first story I've ever posted. Other than a few minor details, it's completely true. The story deserves multiple parts and may even get a prequel.
THE STREET FAIRE
Part 1
I met "Ella" at a munch. We had excellent chemistry, so I got her number. She was curious about tickling but had never experienced it before. I was more than happy to introduce her.
This past Sunday morning I texted Ella and asked if she wanted to come with me to the How Weird Street Faire in San Francisco. She said yes, and we agreed that she would stop by my apartment first to drop off some stuff she would need later. We had just met so I offered her alternatives to coming into my place (like putting her stuff in my car instead), but she was eager to come by.
Ella was 22 years old. She stood about 5'3" and had a youthful, round face with light brown hair and a pixie haircut. Her eyes were a rich, beautiful hazel. She wore an overbust corset (accentuating her hourglass figure) with tiny clasps in front, a black see-through lace skirt with black panties peeking though, white and purple striped stockings, and black leather boots. The corset created a nice amount of cleavage--not so much as to be distracting, but enough to exude femininity.
I offered her a glass of wine from a bottle I had opened the night before. (It was a lonely dinner so the bottle was about 2/3 full.) I was surprised that she accepted a drink from an open bottle, but liked the fact that she trusted me. (I partook of the bottle too, so it wasn't that sketchy.) We polished it off as we stood and chatted.
We discussed how tickling could be a fetish, how it could be combined with hypnosis, and in what ways tickling terminology and norms did or didn't overlap with those in the larger BDSM world. She wondered if I was truly sadistic. I explained my approach to pain: I don't enjoy pain for its own sake and I don't get pleasure from inflicting pain if I know the person I am hurting does not get any enjoyment whatsoever. But if my sub is enjoying herself, I'll dish out as much as she can take, maybe a little more. The same went for tickling.
Ella was already a giggly person and then wine made her even more giggle-prone. I discovered I make her laugh just by menacingly wiggling my fingers in the air. But I didn't touch her. I consider myself a gentleman, and wanting to help her feel comfortable, I wasn't going to touch her the first time she was in my apartment.
We took an Uber to the street fair. While standing in line to get in, we had a few hits from a bowl Ella had bought (yes, people smoke pot in public in San Francisco). Ella got even more giggly, which turned me on. While were in line, though, she said with a straight face that she didn't want to tell me this before, but she wasn't ticklish. I wasn't sure whether to believe her, because it didn't seem to fit with her giggling at my fingers less than an hour before. I told her, "we'll see about that." She claimed people had said that before, but I was still a bit skeptical. As I've discovered spots on people who claimed not to be ticklish, I was confident I could prove her wrong. I wasn't quite comfortable doing a full attack in public, so I poked her in the ribs. I got no response. But because I enjoyed her company and we had good chemistry, I decided that even if she were telling the truth, I still wanted to get to know her better and would certainly be a gentleman and not just leave her on the spot! (Can't say the thought hadn't crossed my mind though.)
When we got inside the street fair, it was as if a switch had flipped. She immediately took my arm. She became very submissive, wanting me to lead her around. People were dressed in all kinds of colorful and interesting costumes: people on stilts, in drag, clowns, biker gear, you name it. The anything-goes atmosphere was conducive to more exploration. As she was holding my right arm, I tickled her left elbow. She giggled and tried to pull away. I crawled my fingers up her arm into her armpit, and she laughed and pulled away even harder. Aha! She was lying. Ella was quite ticklish! I let her know that she was going to get it for lying to me.
I stood facing her and held her forearms firmly with my hands on her elbows. I looked her in the eyes. I wiggled my fingers and scratched her elbows and upper arms while she struggled and tried to pull away. I continued tickling and tickling, reveling in her laughter.
This was going to be a fun day.
It was very crowded at the Street Faire--to get around, you had to open up some space and often push past people. I felt empowered with a submissive. I stood with my chest held high and spread my arms out to assert my presence. I was in charge. It felt great.
We stopped at one of the booths and Ella opened her bag. A gentleman does not look into a lady's bag, but while going through her things, she happened to pull out a collar. I asked Ella if she was going to put it on. I assumed that a collar was just a fashion piece that symbolized someone's submissive tendencies and wondered aloud whether it would change her behavior, because she was acting submissively already and I was enjoying it. She gave a vague response. Then she asked if it would make me happy to put the collar on her. I said yes, and she asked me to put it on her. I had never collared someone but was intrigued and excited at the opportunity. She bowed her head and I affixed the collar.
Immediately she became even more submissive. She started to walk behind me rather than at my side and seemed to try to wander off just so I could grab the strap of her bag to pull her back as if she were on a leash. Each time she "tried" to get away and I pulled her back, I tickled her briefly under her arms. I told her I was still upset she had lied to me, and her real punishment hadn't come yet.
After a bit of wandering we stopped at a booth to look at some steampunk-syle clothes. Ella was especially transfixed by the leather items. We stood between two clothing racks--it was not quite private, but there was only one side facing the public. My back was to the open side and she was in front of me browsing through clothes. As she lifted both arms to get something from one of the racks, I reached into her armpits. She squealed and flung her arms down. I puller her against me and didn't let up. I loved feeling her squirm under my hands and against my body. She dropped to the ground to try to escape my wriggling fingers, her back against my legs, but this only encouraged me more. As she was sitting on the ground, I lifted her arms, holding them with mine against my legs, and attacked her defenseless armpits. I kept taunting her, saying "this is what you get for lying to me."
As I tickled her she begged, "please stop, please stop!"
Teasingly, I said, "please stop what?"
Through her convulsive laughter and after several attempts, she managed to say "please stop tickling me!"
I decided that wasn't enough, so I demanded in a taunting voice, "please stop tickling you where?"
"Please stah-ah-ah-ahp tickling me -- ha ha ha ha --- EVERYWHERE!"
I said, "I'm not tickling you everywhere. Where should I stop tickling you?"
"MY ARMPITS!"
"That isn't enough. Say the whole thing."
She tried to but couldn't. She was laughing even harder and squirming against my legs. I tickled even more as she attempted to get out the words.
"Please stah-ah-ah-ahp tickling me-he-he-he-he!"
I continued to tickle her. She was still sitting on the ground and I was standing dominantly above her while holding her arms against my body and my fingers in her armpits. I was in total control.
I continued to taunt. "Please stop what? Please stop what?" I kept repeating.
Finally, nearly out of breath, she managed to exclaim, "PLEASE STOP TICKLING MY ARMPITS!"
I decided that was sufficient. I stopped tickling her and lowered her gently to the ground. Panting heavily, she stayed on the ground for a minute while I stood over her. When she caught her breath, I helped her up and we continued on our way.
This was going to be a fun day indeed.
THE STREET FAIRE
Part 1
I met "Ella" at a munch. We had excellent chemistry, so I got her number. She was curious about tickling but had never experienced it before. I was more than happy to introduce her.
This past Sunday morning I texted Ella and asked if she wanted to come with me to the How Weird Street Faire in San Francisco. She said yes, and we agreed that she would stop by my apartment first to drop off some stuff she would need later. We had just met so I offered her alternatives to coming into my place (like putting her stuff in my car instead), but she was eager to come by.
Ella was 22 years old. She stood about 5'3" and had a youthful, round face with light brown hair and a pixie haircut. Her eyes were a rich, beautiful hazel. She wore an overbust corset (accentuating her hourglass figure) with tiny clasps in front, a black see-through lace skirt with black panties peeking though, white and purple striped stockings, and black leather boots. The corset created a nice amount of cleavage--not so much as to be distracting, but enough to exude femininity.
I offered her a glass of wine from a bottle I had opened the night before. (It was a lonely dinner so the bottle was about 2/3 full.) I was surprised that she accepted a drink from an open bottle, but liked the fact that she trusted me. (I partook of the bottle too, so it wasn't that sketchy.) We polished it off as we stood and chatted.
We discussed how tickling could be a fetish, how it could be combined with hypnosis, and in what ways tickling terminology and norms did or didn't overlap with those in the larger BDSM world. She wondered if I was truly sadistic. I explained my approach to pain: I don't enjoy pain for its own sake and I don't get pleasure from inflicting pain if I know the person I am hurting does not get any enjoyment whatsoever. But if my sub is enjoying herself, I'll dish out as much as she can take, maybe a little more. The same went for tickling.
Ella was already a giggly person and then wine made her even more giggle-prone. I discovered I make her laugh just by menacingly wiggling my fingers in the air. But I didn't touch her. I consider myself a gentleman, and wanting to help her feel comfortable, I wasn't going to touch her the first time she was in my apartment.
We took an Uber to the street fair. While standing in line to get in, we had a few hits from a bowl Ella had bought (yes, people smoke pot in public in San Francisco). Ella got even more giggly, which turned me on. While were in line, though, she said with a straight face that she didn't want to tell me this before, but she wasn't ticklish. I wasn't sure whether to believe her, because it didn't seem to fit with her giggling at my fingers less than an hour before. I told her, "we'll see about that." She claimed people had said that before, but I was still a bit skeptical. As I've discovered spots on people who claimed not to be ticklish, I was confident I could prove her wrong. I wasn't quite comfortable doing a full attack in public, so I poked her in the ribs. I got no response. But because I enjoyed her company and we had good chemistry, I decided that even if she were telling the truth, I still wanted to get to know her better and would certainly be a gentleman and not just leave her on the spot! (Can't say the thought hadn't crossed my mind though.)
When we got inside the street fair, it was as if a switch had flipped. She immediately took my arm. She became very submissive, wanting me to lead her around. People were dressed in all kinds of colorful and interesting costumes: people on stilts, in drag, clowns, biker gear, you name it. The anything-goes atmosphere was conducive to more exploration. As she was holding my right arm, I tickled her left elbow. She giggled and tried to pull away. I crawled my fingers up her arm into her armpit, and she laughed and pulled away even harder. Aha! She was lying. Ella was quite ticklish! I let her know that she was going to get it for lying to me.
I stood facing her and held her forearms firmly with my hands on her elbows. I looked her in the eyes. I wiggled my fingers and scratched her elbows and upper arms while she struggled and tried to pull away. I continued tickling and tickling, reveling in her laughter.
This was going to be a fun day.
It was very crowded at the Street Faire--to get around, you had to open up some space and often push past people. I felt empowered with a submissive. I stood with my chest held high and spread my arms out to assert my presence. I was in charge. It felt great.
We stopped at one of the booths and Ella opened her bag. A gentleman does not look into a lady's bag, but while going through her things, she happened to pull out a collar. I asked Ella if she was going to put it on. I assumed that a collar was just a fashion piece that symbolized someone's submissive tendencies and wondered aloud whether it would change her behavior, because she was acting submissively already and I was enjoying it. She gave a vague response. Then she asked if it would make me happy to put the collar on her. I said yes, and she asked me to put it on her. I had never collared someone but was intrigued and excited at the opportunity. She bowed her head and I affixed the collar.
Immediately she became even more submissive. She started to walk behind me rather than at my side and seemed to try to wander off just so I could grab the strap of her bag to pull her back as if she were on a leash. Each time she "tried" to get away and I pulled her back, I tickled her briefly under her arms. I told her I was still upset she had lied to me, and her real punishment hadn't come yet.
After a bit of wandering we stopped at a booth to look at some steampunk-syle clothes. Ella was especially transfixed by the leather items. We stood between two clothing racks--it was not quite private, but there was only one side facing the public. My back was to the open side and she was in front of me browsing through clothes. As she lifted both arms to get something from one of the racks, I reached into her armpits. She squealed and flung her arms down. I puller her against me and didn't let up. I loved feeling her squirm under my hands and against my body. She dropped to the ground to try to escape my wriggling fingers, her back against my legs, but this only encouraged me more. As she was sitting on the ground, I lifted her arms, holding them with mine against my legs, and attacked her defenseless armpits. I kept taunting her, saying "this is what you get for lying to me."
As I tickled her she begged, "please stop, please stop!"
Teasingly, I said, "please stop what?"
Through her convulsive laughter and after several attempts, she managed to say "please stop tickling me!"
I decided that wasn't enough, so I demanded in a taunting voice, "please stop tickling you where?"
"Please stah-ah-ah-ahp tickling me -- ha ha ha ha --- EVERYWHERE!"
I said, "I'm not tickling you everywhere. Where should I stop tickling you?"
"MY ARMPITS!"
"That isn't enough. Say the whole thing."
She tried to but couldn't. She was laughing even harder and squirming against my legs. I tickled even more as she attempted to get out the words.
"Please stah-ah-ah-ahp tickling me-he-he-he-he!"
I continued to tickle her. She was still sitting on the ground and I was standing dominantly above her while holding her arms against my body and my fingers in her armpits. I was in total control.
I continued to taunt. "Please stop what? Please stop what?" I kept repeating.
Finally, nearly out of breath, she managed to exclaim, "PLEASE STOP TICKLING MY ARMPITS!"
I decided that was sufficient. I stopped tickling her and lowered her gently to the ground. Panting heavily, she stayed on the ground for a minute while I stood over her. When she caught her breath, I helped her up and we continued on our way.
This was going to be a fun day indeed.
