I had left it up to Mistress Xena to choose which other two women she’d invite to tickle me for three hours this year, adding an element of surprise to the visit. Returning for the fun was Mistress Alexandra, and I was introduced to Mistress Simone, the primary owner of The Studio along with the two co-owners who I’d known only by reputation previously. And so quickly I was forcibly stripped and chained down in spread-eagle fashion by these three mistresses, each with over ten years of experience torturing men, and two of them with hours of experience in torturing and studying my own weak spots.
The leather cuffs held me fast as they converged on my upper body with widening smiles, well-rounded nails and nuanced tickling touch. I was flat on the U-shaped table with walk-up access between my legs, so I was looking up into a huddle of three pairs of blazing eyes. Their grazing touches along my ribs, stomach and underarms had me spasming with laughter in seconds, and eventually morphed into a mixture of well-aimed squeezes and pokes as well.
The verbal teasing was instant and ruthless.
“He’s such a wiggle worm!”
“Tickle, tickle, tickle!”
“So many places to tickle.”
“Stop it! I can’t take that!” I protested with a wailing edge.
“I know, I remember,” Mistress Xena purred like an evil babysitter. “Poor baby. Coochie coochie coo!”
Within three minutes Simone took two slow steps back to my feet, pinned my ankle firmly against the table padding, and wiggled her long dark red polished nails delightedly up and down my sole.
“Such soft feet!” she exclaimed as my back arched in the agony of my most ticklish spot.
“Yes! He gets pedicures!” Xena replied as she joined in for a double-team, with ten nails scratching along each of my arches in scribbling patterns and aggressively up under my flailing toes.
“I love his feet! Right under those liiiiittle toes!” Simone sang.
I’d never faced this much baby-talk at once, as my laughter got more wild, gaspy, and soprano.
“Ooh, where you gonna go?” they taunted as they resumed triple-teaming my upper body for a spell, then brought out the toys.
“Hold stiiiill!” Xena said as she traced a pinwheel gracefully along my nipples, a command I had to obey to prevent the spokes from transitioning from tickling to pain.
“This is fun!” Simone said as she dug flinchingly hard into my quads and reached under my thighs to spider around dancingly.
Alexandra lazily trailed an oversized four-pronged fork from hips to armpits and back again, occasionally across my heaving chest.
The soft tendrils of feathers teased my neck and ears. “You are so spoiled!”
“Aw, there’s nowhere to run… nowhere to hide from these six beautiful hands,” Xena said as she locked dark eyes with mine.
“We have goose bumps over here!” laughed Simone. “Ohhh, look at those feet arch for me.”
“I can tell how excited he’s getting the way his toes are curling up!” Alexandra noted gaily as she scraped my heels and insteps with the prongs.
“Hmm I wooonder where his most ticklish spot is?” mused Simone. “I think it’s the toes,” she correctly concluded.
“NooooOH!” I cried as endorphin overload spiked me into dizziness and I strained with all I had left to keep from thrusting.
“Oh, no? Nooo?” Xena cooed affectionately, while Simone’s giggles floated into my ears and her maddening nails tickled delicately beneath all ten of my toes.
By the end of the session I was a nearly-limp mess, with a raw throat and huge smile across my face.
The leather cuffs held me fast as they converged on my upper body with widening smiles, well-rounded nails and nuanced tickling touch. I was flat on the U-shaped table with walk-up access between my legs, so I was looking up into a huddle of three pairs of blazing eyes. Their grazing touches along my ribs, stomach and underarms had me spasming with laughter in seconds, and eventually morphed into a mixture of well-aimed squeezes and pokes as well.
The verbal teasing was instant and ruthless.
“He’s such a wiggle worm!”
“Tickle, tickle, tickle!”
“So many places to tickle.”
“Stop it! I can’t take that!” I protested with a wailing edge.
“I know, I remember,” Mistress Xena purred like an evil babysitter. “Poor baby. Coochie coochie coo!”
Within three minutes Simone took two slow steps back to my feet, pinned my ankle firmly against the table padding, and wiggled her long dark red polished nails delightedly up and down my sole.
“Such soft feet!” she exclaimed as my back arched in the agony of my most ticklish spot.
“Yes! He gets pedicures!” Xena replied as she joined in for a double-team, with ten nails scratching along each of my arches in scribbling patterns and aggressively up under my flailing toes.
“I love his feet! Right under those liiiiittle toes!” Simone sang.
I’d never faced this much baby-talk at once, as my laughter got more wild, gaspy, and soprano.
“Ooh, where you gonna go?” they taunted as they resumed triple-teaming my upper body for a spell, then brought out the toys.
“Hold stiiiill!” Xena said as she traced a pinwheel gracefully along my nipples, a command I had to obey to prevent the spokes from transitioning from tickling to pain.
“This is fun!” Simone said as she dug flinchingly hard into my quads and reached under my thighs to spider around dancingly.
Alexandra lazily trailed an oversized four-pronged fork from hips to armpits and back again, occasionally across my heaving chest.
The soft tendrils of feathers teased my neck and ears. “You are so spoiled!”
“Aw, there’s nowhere to run… nowhere to hide from these six beautiful hands,” Xena said as she locked dark eyes with mine.
“We have goose bumps over here!” laughed Simone. “Ohhh, look at those feet arch for me.”
“I can tell how excited he’s getting the way his toes are curling up!” Alexandra noted gaily as she scraped my heels and insteps with the prongs.
“Hmm I wooonder where his most ticklish spot is?” mused Simone. “I think it’s the toes,” she correctly concluded.
“NooooOH!” I cried as endorphin overload spiked me into dizziness and I strained with all I had left to keep from thrusting.
“Oh, no? Nooo?” Xena cooed affectionately, while Simone’s giggles floated into my ears and her maddening nails tickled delicately beneath all ten of my toes.
By the end of the session I was a nearly-limp mess, with a raw throat and huge smile across my face.
