Volsung1
1st Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Jul 18, 2008
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I have decided that the tickling should take a turn, therefore I'm starting a new post. To see the first half of the story, follow the link:
http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=65551
------------------------------------------
You find that your mouth goes all dry... What are the consequences? This is all happening so fast... Mark Carroll looks down at you.
"I can promise you an experience that you will never forget," he says, and you believe him. But that doesn't help you decide. Besides, you may never have another chance as good as this. You nod while you gulp, trying to clear that dry throat... oh boy...
Suddenly, very suddenly a rubber mask presses against your nose. The air smells funny, but not for long... as the darkness closes in around you.
You blink your eyes, trying to remember... How did I get here? You make a motion to rub the sleep out of your eyes, but your muscles don't seem to want to follow your wishes. It's an odd feeling, like waking up in a strange place. You try and get up, but you can't. You croak out something, but nothing really comes out. Out of the semi darkness comes a voice, you remember it from somewhere...
"There is a strap over your forehead"
You test... true enough, but is the voice real or is it your conscience self thinking out loud? Not to be able to lift your head is a little unnerving, to say the least.
" ...as well as your wrists and ankles..."
Um... Not exactly what I would have wanted... Clearly, you're not going anywhere soon.
"Now really, I don't think that this is..."
"Necessary? Oh but it is my dear... it REALLY is..."
You feel fingers, skittering along the outside of your leg. Then you realize, that you've been stripped down to your underwear. The bad thing is not being able to see, to turn your head. The light skittering feeling moves up you leg to your sides. You twist as much as the restraints will allow. The lack of wiggle room insights a panic.
"No... please...." You whimper. It already tickles. You feel a feathery touch, cold, across your exposed bellybutton. You can't see it, but you can only imagine. You shut your eyes as tight as you can, in a vane attempt to just make it all go away...
"This is my favorite hun, ostrich.... Of course..." Now you wish you hadn't known. You start giggling just at the thought, then you feel the ostrich feather swishing back and forth across your abdomen muscles, which involuntary tighten. You catch yourself laughing an gigging... it tickles too much... The tightening caused by the laughter is the very worst thing you could do to make the tickling go away, but you can't stop. It he would only stop and let you regain some composure, some amount of control.
"My, we are ticklish aren't we? Choocie coo..."
*Swish, swish...*
GRRR...... (you've got to be kiddddddding....) HAHAHAHAHA........ It's SO MADDING..... talked down to like some little girl......
"Tickleee tickleee tickle......"
(...but I can't help it!!!) HAHAHAHAAAAA.....
Warm air around your navel... HEHEHEHEHE....... Lips pressed..... NOOOOOO!!!! HAHAHA........ BLAZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....
Hysterical.... fits..... your stomach hurts from the laughing, but you have no control....
BLAAAAZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....... long fart noise..... HA HA HA HA .....
"Wait, there seems to be something lodged in there.... maybe I can blow it out.... BLLLAAAAZZZZZZZZZZZ...... NOOOOOOO HAHAHA HAHAHA......
"Nope, Mmmm....." You feel a small flexible tool around the edge.... circling and probing... The point of the feathers shaft... scraping along the edge and digging inside.... HAHAHA HAHAHA.... NOOOO!!!! PLEEEEESEE... HAHAHA....
"Yes, that's better.... Can't you help me out a little here? Quit fidgeting so! Now we must clear the area here of all debris."
A smaller, well defined tickle pigeon feather bending and twisting inside your navel, removing nothing but the last bit of sanity and self control...
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA........
The feeling is total overload... which slowly traverses over to your arm pits... here fingers nuzzle and probe the hollow, beneath your outstretched, pined arms.
HEHEHEE..... HAHAHA.....
Your brassiere comes off, dragging across erect nipples and areola. All the tickling, the lack of control, your secret fetish... has betrayed you. Your chest heaving, wet from exercise and laughing. A feather traces a wet line around the perimeters of your areola... swishing back and forth... teasing your nipples to full erection... aching... heavy... feathery tickles against the sides of your nipples... you want to touch yourself, to help the process to its inevitable conclusion. Just as you find yourself settling in a relaxed, sexual state, the madding tickle has now passed to your toes...
Again you laugh and giggle uncontrollably as several feathers pass and swirl around wiggling ticklish toes. The tickling feeling is now acute because of other areas that have already been explored. At the point that you start having difficulty breathing, you feel a feathery touch brushing up and down your pubes. Too bad you've recently shaved this, or is it? It tickles much in the way as your tummy, pits, and feet tickled... It dives you crazy... the real tickling from the sexual tickling... Where does one start and the other leave off? It only drives your fetish... you're TICKLING fetish, over the line. The feather traces a parallel imaginary line up and down your slit as the constant laughter mutates into moans of a different kind of pleasure. You open your mouth and drop your jaw, savoring the experience. Your clitoral hood peeks out from the inner folds, discolored from engorged blood vessels. The feather teasing and taunting around your clitoris, wet and erect... You can feel the orgasm building up within you as the feather unrelentingly, almost imperceptibly, strokes you to orgasm... You're breathing in spasms now... With each pass, like a pendulum, marking that which cannot be taken back. You have never had it like this... To be so immobile, forced to accept the pleasure of such a simple thing. The feather catches a wetness on one of it's ticklish passes and spreads the pre-cum up and down you're throbbing clitoris. Your inhibitions fall as you laugh through your mind blowing orgasm. Your whole pussy throbs and involuntary contracts. The feather spreads your juices over every crack and crevasse as you cum over and over. HARD... You unconsciously scream through the release... You are so spent... never before... So tired... Your breathing slows... regular...
Somehow, a foot massage will have a different impact on you from now on...
http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=65551
------------------------------------------
You find that your mouth goes all dry... What are the consequences? This is all happening so fast... Mark Carroll looks down at you.
"I can promise you an experience that you will never forget," he says, and you believe him. But that doesn't help you decide. Besides, you may never have another chance as good as this. You nod while you gulp, trying to clear that dry throat... oh boy...
Suddenly, very suddenly a rubber mask presses against your nose. The air smells funny, but not for long... as the darkness closes in around you.
You blink your eyes, trying to remember... How did I get here? You make a motion to rub the sleep out of your eyes, but your muscles don't seem to want to follow your wishes. It's an odd feeling, like waking up in a strange place. You try and get up, but you can't. You croak out something, but nothing really comes out. Out of the semi darkness comes a voice, you remember it from somewhere...
"There is a strap over your forehead"
You test... true enough, but is the voice real or is it your conscience self thinking out loud? Not to be able to lift your head is a little unnerving, to say the least.
" ...as well as your wrists and ankles..."
Um... Not exactly what I would have wanted... Clearly, you're not going anywhere soon.
"Now really, I don't think that this is..."
"Necessary? Oh but it is my dear... it REALLY is..."
You feel fingers, skittering along the outside of your leg. Then you realize, that you've been stripped down to your underwear. The bad thing is not being able to see, to turn your head. The light skittering feeling moves up you leg to your sides. You twist as much as the restraints will allow. The lack of wiggle room insights a panic.
"No... please...." You whimper. It already tickles. You feel a feathery touch, cold, across your exposed bellybutton. You can't see it, but you can only imagine. You shut your eyes as tight as you can, in a vane attempt to just make it all go away...
"This is my favorite hun, ostrich.... Of course..." Now you wish you hadn't known. You start giggling just at the thought, then you feel the ostrich feather swishing back and forth across your abdomen muscles, which involuntary tighten. You catch yourself laughing an gigging... it tickles too much... The tightening caused by the laughter is the very worst thing you could do to make the tickling go away, but you can't stop. It he would only stop and let you regain some composure, some amount of control.
"My, we are ticklish aren't we? Choocie coo..."
*Swish, swish...*
GRRR...... (you've got to be kiddddddding....) HAHAHAHAHA........ It's SO MADDING..... talked down to like some little girl......
"Tickleee tickleee tickle......"
(...but I can't help it!!!) HAHAHAHAAAAA.....
Warm air around your navel... HEHEHEHEHE....... Lips pressed..... NOOOOOO!!!! HAHAHA........ BLAZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....
Hysterical.... fits..... your stomach hurts from the laughing, but you have no control....
BLAAAAZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ....... long fart noise..... HA HA HA HA .....
"Wait, there seems to be something lodged in there.... maybe I can blow it out.... BLLLAAAAZZZZZZZZZZZ...... NOOOOOOO HAHAHA HAHAHA......
"Nope, Mmmm....." You feel a small flexible tool around the edge.... circling and probing... The point of the feathers shaft... scraping along the edge and digging inside.... HAHAHA HAHAHA.... NOOOO!!!! PLEEEEESEE... HAHAHA....
"Yes, that's better.... Can't you help me out a little here? Quit fidgeting so! Now we must clear the area here of all debris."
A smaller, well defined tickle pigeon feather bending and twisting inside your navel, removing nothing but the last bit of sanity and self control...
HAHAHAHAHAHAHA........
The feeling is total overload... which slowly traverses over to your arm pits... here fingers nuzzle and probe the hollow, beneath your outstretched, pined arms.
HEHEHEE..... HAHAHA.....
Your brassiere comes off, dragging across erect nipples and areola. All the tickling, the lack of control, your secret fetish... has betrayed you. Your chest heaving, wet from exercise and laughing. A feather traces a wet line around the perimeters of your areola... swishing back and forth... teasing your nipples to full erection... aching... heavy... feathery tickles against the sides of your nipples... you want to touch yourself, to help the process to its inevitable conclusion. Just as you find yourself settling in a relaxed, sexual state, the madding tickle has now passed to your toes...
Again you laugh and giggle uncontrollably as several feathers pass and swirl around wiggling ticklish toes. The tickling feeling is now acute because of other areas that have already been explored. At the point that you start having difficulty breathing, you feel a feathery touch brushing up and down your pubes. Too bad you've recently shaved this, or is it? It tickles much in the way as your tummy, pits, and feet tickled... It dives you crazy... the real tickling from the sexual tickling... Where does one start and the other leave off? It only drives your fetish... you're TICKLING fetish, over the line. The feather traces a parallel imaginary line up and down your slit as the constant laughter mutates into moans of a different kind of pleasure. You open your mouth and drop your jaw, savoring the experience. Your clitoral hood peeks out from the inner folds, discolored from engorged blood vessels. The feather teasing and taunting around your clitoris, wet and erect... You can feel the orgasm building up within you as the feather unrelentingly, almost imperceptibly, strokes you to orgasm... You're breathing in spasms now... With each pass, like a pendulum, marking that which cannot be taken back. You have never had it like this... To be so immobile, forced to accept the pleasure of such a simple thing. The feather catches a wetness on one of it's ticklish passes and spreads the pre-cum up and down you're throbbing clitoris. Your inhibitions fall as you laugh through your mind blowing orgasm. Your whole pussy throbs and involuntary contracts. The feather spreads your juices over every crack and crevasse as you cum over and over. HARD... You unconsciously scream through the release... You are so spent... never before... So tired... Your breathing slows... regular...
Somehow, a foot massage will have a different impact on you from now on...
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