Chapter 2 – taking advantage…
Ben dug his hands into Anna’s soft armpits, fingers flicking and wriggling away, trying to determine what garnered more of a response – soft or firm, slow or fast. Varying touch and tempo, after a minute or two he reckoned he had it beat – soft and fast had Anna’s head thrashing from side to side like a wildcat, muffled grunts and pleas leaking through the ballgag in giggled fit and starts. No point concentrating solely on her armpits for the time being though – tied as she was, there were other parts of her extremely ticklish anatomy that were far more vulnerable.
Ben stood up after a few more minutes of armpit induced sensory overload, picked up his bag of goodies, and planted himself firmly on Anna’s rump (again with a quick spank aimed solidly on both cheeks, just because he couldn’t help himself). Settling himself comfortably, he pulled up the bottom of Anna’s t-shirt, revealing her toned and beautiful back – the skin was fantastic, soft and smooth to the touch, and completely at his mercy. The t-shirt was pulled as far up as it could go without removing it entirely from her, revealing a lovely pink bra strap (damn but the girl did like matching her wardrobe!). With his left hand Ben grabbed the chain which held her cuffed wrists together, and raised it vertically, pulling her arms straight, and up and out behind her. He stopped the vertical motion when he heard a whimper, which was in this case at about 60 degrees – Anna was certainly in an uncomfortable position (as intended), but not a painful one. To Ben merciless tickle torture was a perfect end in itself - outright torture wasn’t.
With her arms raised behind her, Anna was now feeling extremely immobile – her legs were trapped and strapped down to the arm of the sofa by rope, whilst her whole body was pinioned under Ben’s weight. With her arms now raised above and behind her, her torso was also being pushed down into the sofa – she was perspiring heavily from the tickling she had already suffered, and a fine sheen of sweat was glimmering over her torso, flecks of light shimmering across her back as she writhed under Ben’s weight. Her mouth was getting dry from the fear and laughter of the last 15 minutes of eternity, and her lovely brown hair was beginning to plaster to her forehead. She looked truly beautiful, as always - not that she herself was privy to this fact, due to the sensory deprivation caused by the blindfold strapped over her eyes.
Gently, Ben stroked the nail of his right index finger up Anna’s spine, in that lovely hollow in the middle of the back. He wasn’t aiming strictly for laughs at this point, and the desired result was achieved as a moan/whimper was heard from Anna, and her struggles changed from trying to writhe away from his touch to a sort of shiver that coursed up her back. At the same time her neck arched a little upwards – Ben already knew that she loved having her back gently tickled, and since he was getting an even bigger kick out of it than she was, he didn’t see the point in letting this lovely opportunity go to waste.
Up and down, he gently tickled Anna’s back in this way for just over 5 minutes, every now and then deviating slightly to either side of the hollow in her back, making sure that the sensations were kept at their peak, and not diminished by repetition on the same spot. For her part, Anna felt like she was on fire – she wanted to get away from that finger almost as much as she wanted the tickling to go on forever. She hated the fact that she was enjoying this (just a little), but she couldn’t help herself – she also couldn’t believe the bastard was doing this to her, when she had absolutely no chance of stopping him from continuing.
Ben was in heaven – tickle torture was at its best when mixed with pleasure. After all, that delicious yet excruciating feeling of both hating and loving the feeling of nails dragging over skin was what had made him so adore tickling (and being tickled) in the first place. Not only was he loving the sight of Anna’s near naked body struggling away beneath him, he was also deriving substantial pleasure from the fact that he had complete control to play with her senses as he saw fit – pleasure/pain, tickle/torture. Her hands slowly clenching and unclenching, her giggles and gasps, her struggles and shivers… all signs that Anna was (figuratively speaking) experiencing both sides of the coin at the same time, and that those sensations were controlled by him. Tickle torture at its finest – and tickle torture that was about to get a whole lot finer.
Ben had given some pleasure, now he was gonna’ give some hell – before Anna knew what had hit her, Ben had dropped his head and then torso under her raised hands, letting his upper body lower onto her back. He then wrapped his legs under hers, closing them around her knees and thighs like a vice – this had a double effect, in that he was trapping her body completely with his own, and at the same time introducing an element of closeness that meant he could almost live her struggles with her. And with her cuffed hands now stretched behind his back, her armpits and ribs were extremely exposed to his not so tender mercies.
Darting his nails to both sides of her body, Ben skittered his nails furiously up and down Anna’s ribs, revelling in the bucking that this caused beneath him - taut buttocks rubbing delightfully against his groin, thighs heaving, back and shoulders twisting as if to somehow evict him from the premises of her body. Anna’s head was catapulting all over the place like a firework on steroids, muffled shrieks increasing in volume all the time as her tortured sides were mercilessly raked by fingers that seemed to be everywhere at the same time. Her nerves were on fire, and after 3 more minutes of hell her throat and lungs felt like someone had lit a furnace inside them – her movements slowed, but this didn’t mean that the torture she suffered was any less. If anything it got worse.
She could do nothing when Ben’s fingers started to pluck at the sides of her belly, snaking under her body to plunder the nerve endings on her extremely sensitive stomach. She could do nothing to stop Ben’s demonic fingers from pinching and probing at her belly button. She could do nothing to stop his hands from flying up to her exposed armpits, and tickling the sweet bejeesus out of them, nails delicately and purposefully extracting a level of ticklish sensations from Anna that she hadn’t thought possible – not that she could think much at all in her current predicament.
Then it stopped – the tickling that is. On autopilot, Anna’s body kept thrashing sexily beneath him, but Ben had drawn his hands away from her for a full 20 seconds before Anna’s mind caught up with reality, and ordered the rest of her body to quit. Just as she did, that horribly pleasant gentle tickling started again, this time running from the bottom of her armpits down to the top of her knickers and back up again, over…and over…and over. The change in sensation once again had a pleasing effect on the lithe brunette, as her body stopped thrashing and started an altogether more sensual type of struggling – heaven help her she wanted to get away more than ever, but hell take her she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was also enjoying herself, even if only for those brief spells that Ben was allowing her to enjoy herself.
Five minutes into this second spell of sensual tickling, Ben had discovered that the area just above her knickers, at the base of her stomach, was quite simply a wonderful spot to tickle – he lingered there longer and longer each time his hands roamed over Anna’s prone form, since this seemed to produce the most delightful bucking of her body. It was causing a fantastic thrusting of her hips as Anna struggled to escape his fingers each time, and when she tried to buck upwards, it gave him some extra space to snake his fingers under her body and scratch just along the top of the front of her knickers as well. Which in turn produced even more writhing and moans….
Pulling himself out of his reverie, he finally dragged his hands away from Anna’s oh so fine belly, and for the first time started to rake his nails gently up and down the sides of her bra-encased breasts – and quickly found that this was even more fun than tickling Anna’s belly. She was extreeeeeemely ticklish there, even through the material of the bra, and from the sounds of things, she was beginning to enjoy herself as well.
Anna at this point was sort of enjoying herself, in a ‘you bastard, how can you be doing this to me… ohhhhhhhhhh’ kind of way. The gentle tickling of her breasts was fantastic and awful at the same time, and she was in shock that Ben could think he could do this to her – not wanting to give in to her instincts, she tried desperately to pull back from his wandering hands. As soon as her torso got the slightest bit of clearance from the sofa, Ben whipped his hands under her body, and grabbed one breast firmly in each hand, squeezing for effect – they were as marvellous to touch as he thought they would be, shapely, firm, rounded, and a good 34CC.
‘MMNJHJHNMBMMMHGDmmmmmbbbbbbbbbmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm’
Well, she may not have wanted him grabbing her there, but he wasn’t about to give this one up – both of Ben’s thumbs and forefingers were used to gently squeeze and tug on Anna’s nipples. They were already hardened and erect, and despite herself Anna couldn’t help letting out a very sexy moan as Ben rolled her nipples between his fingers and thereby toyed with her senses – a moan that certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Ben’s ears. After a few moments of allowing himself to enjoy this sense of sexual control, Ben’s hands left Anna’s body entirely – Anna sensed his left hand drop away from her, then heard a faint cracking sound. She was just trying to bring her head round to the left to try and hear or sense what was going on when a sudden, horrible icy sensation invaded her stomach.
Anna squealed into her gag like a banshee as Ben slipped the cube of ice under her stomach, leaving it resting right under her belly button – he snaked out from under her arms, positioned himself firmly back in his favourite position on her buttocks, and sat back to watch the fireworks. He moved himself a little further forward onto the small of her back, to ensure that she couldn’t buck away from the ice cube by pinning her stomach onto the freezing implement of torture. Hands failing, buttocks clenching, shoulders helter skelter all over the place, Anna looked as marvellous as ever. Ben leaned forward, and undid the clasp at the back of her bra.
Anna screamed…
TBC
Ben dug his hands into Anna’s soft armpits, fingers flicking and wriggling away, trying to determine what garnered more of a response – soft or firm, slow or fast. Varying touch and tempo, after a minute or two he reckoned he had it beat – soft and fast had Anna’s head thrashing from side to side like a wildcat, muffled grunts and pleas leaking through the ballgag in giggled fit and starts. No point concentrating solely on her armpits for the time being though – tied as she was, there were other parts of her extremely ticklish anatomy that were far more vulnerable.
Ben stood up after a few more minutes of armpit induced sensory overload, picked up his bag of goodies, and planted himself firmly on Anna’s rump (again with a quick spank aimed solidly on both cheeks, just because he couldn’t help himself). Settling himself comfortably, he pulled up the bottom of Anna’s t-shirt, revealing her toned and beautiful back – the skin was fantastic, soft and smooth to the touch, and completely at his mercy. The t-shirt was pulled as far up as it could go without removing it entirely from her, revealing a lovely pink bra strap (damn but the girl did like matching her wardrobe!). With his left hand Ben grabbed the chain which held her cuffed wrists together, and raised it vertically, pulling her arms straight, and up and out behind her. He stopped the vertical motion when he heard a whimper, which was in this case at about 60 degrees – Anna was certainly in an uncomfortable position (as intended), but not a painful one. To Ben merciless tickle torture was a perfect end in itself - outright torture wasn’t.
With her arms raised behind her, Anna was now feeling extremely immobile – her legs were trapped and strapped down to the arm of the sofa by rope, whilst her whole body was pinioned under Ben’s weight. With her arms now raised above and behind her, her torso was also being pushed down into the sofa – she was perspiring heavily from the tickling she had already suffered, and a fine sheen of sweat was glimmering over her torso, flecks of light shimmering across her back as she writhed under Ben’s weight. Her mouth was getting dry from the fear and laughter of the last 15 minutes of eternity, and her lovely brown hair was beginning to plaster to her forehead. She looked truly beautiful, as always - not that she herself was privy to this fact, due to the sensory deprivation caused by the blindfold strapped over her eyes.
Gently, Ben stroked the nail of his right index finger up Anna’s spine, in that lovely hollow in the middle of the back. He wasn’t aiming strictly for laughs at this point, and the desired result was achieved as a moan/whimper was heard from Anna, and her struggles changed from trying to writhe away from his touch to a sort of shiver that coursed up her back. At the same time her neck arched a little upwards – Ben already knew that she loved having her back gently tickled, and since he was getting an even bigger kick out of it than she was, he didn’t see the point in letting this lovely opportunity go to waste.
Up and down, he gently tickled Anna’s back in this way for just over 5 minutes, every now and then deviating slightly to either side of the hollow in her back, making sure that the sensations were kept at their peak, and not diminished by repetition on the same spot. For her part, Anna felt like she was on fire – she wanted to get away from that finger almost as much as she wanted the tickling to go on forever. She hated the fact that she was enjoying this (just a little), but she couldn’t help herself – she also couldn’t believe the bastard was doing this to her, when she had absolutely no chance of stopping him from continuing.
Ben was in heaven – tickle torture was at its best when mixed with pleasure. After all, that delicious yet excruciating feeling of both hating and loving the feeling of nails dragging over skin was what had made him so adore tickling (and being tickled) in the first place. Not only was he loving the sight of Anna’s near naked body struggling away beneath him, he was also deriving substantial pleasure from the fact that he had complete control to play with her senses as he saw fit – pleasure/pain, tickle/torture. Her hands slowly clenching and unclenching, her giggles and gasps, her struggles and shivers… all signs that Anna was (figuratively speaking) experiencing both sides of the coin at the same time, and that those sensations were controlled by him. Tickle torture at its finest – and tickle torture that was about to get a whole lot finer.
Ben had given some pleasure, now he was gonna’ give some hell – before Anna knew what had hit her, Ben had dropped his head and then torso under her raised hands, letting his upper body lower onto her back. He then wrapped his legs under hers, closing them around her knees and thighs like a vice – this had a double effect, in that he was trapping her body completely with his own, and at the same time introducing an element of closeness that meant he could almost live her struggles with her. And with her cuffed hands now stretched behind his back, her armpits and ribs were extremely exposed to his not so tender mercies.
Darting his nails to both sides of her body, Ben skittered his nails furiously up and down Anna’s ribs, revelling in the bucking that this caused beneath him - taut buttocks rubbing delightfully against his groin, thighs heaving, back and shoulders twisting as if to somehow evict him from the premises of her body. Anna’s head was catapulting all over the place like a firework on steroids, muffled shrieks increasing in volume all the time as her tortured sides were mercilessly raked by fingers that seemed to be everywhere at the same time. Her nerves were on fire, and after 3 more minutes of hell her throat and lungs felt like someone had lit a furnace inside them – her movements slowed, but this didn’t mean that the torture she suffered was any less. If anything it got worse.
She could do nothing when Ben’s fingers started to pluck at the sides of her belly, snaking under her body to plunder the nerve endings on her extremely sensitive stomach. She could do nothing to stop Ben’s demonic fingers from pinching and probing at her belly button. She could do nothing to stop his hands from flying up to her exposed armpits, and tickling the sweet bejeesus out of them, nails delicately and purposefully extracting a level of ticklish sensations from Anna that she hadn’t thought possible – not that she could think much at all in her current predicament.
Then it stopped – the tickling that is. On autopilot, Anna’s body kept thrashing sexily beneath him, but Ben had drawn his hands away from her for a full 20 seconds before Anna’s mind caught up with reality, and ordered the rest of her body to quit. Just as she did, that horribly pleasant gentle tickling started again, this time running from the bottom of her armpits down to the top of her knickers and back up again, over…and over…and over. The change in sensation once again had a pleasing effect on the lithe brunette, as her body stopped thrashing and started an altogether more sensual type of struggling – heaven help her she wanted to get away more than ever, but hell take her she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was also enjoying herself, even if only for those brief spells that Ben was allowing her to enjoy herself.
Five minutes into this second spell of sensual tickling, Ben had discovered that the area just above her knickers, at the base of her stomach, was quite simply a wonderful spot to tickle – he lingered there longer and longer each time his hands roamed over Anna’s prone form, since this seemed to produce the most delightful bucking of her body. It was causing a fantastic thrusting of her hips as Anna struggled to escape his fingers each time, and when she tried to buck upwards, it gave him some extra space to snake his fingers under her body and scratch just along the top of the front of her knickers as well. Which in turn produced even more writhing and moans….
Pulling himself out of his reverie, he finally dragged his hands away from Anna’s oh so fine belly, and for the first time started to rake his nails gently up and down the sides of her bra-encased breasts – and quickly found that this was even more fun than tickling Anna’s belly. She was extreeeeeemely ticklish there, even through the material of the bra, and from the sounds of things, she was beginning to enjoy herself as well.
Anna at this point was sort of enjoying herself, in a ‘you bastard, how can you be doing this to me… ohhhhhhhhhh’ kind of way. The gentle tickling of her breasts was fantastic and awful at the same time, and she was in shock that Ben could think he could do this to her – not wanting to give in to her instincts, she tried desperately to pull back from his wandering hands. As soon as her torso got the slightest bit of clearance from the sofa, Ben whipped his hands under her body, and grabbed one breast firmly in each hand, squeezing for effect – they were as marvellous to touch as he thought they would be, shapely, firm, rounded, and a good 34CC.
‘MMNJHJHNMBMMMHGDmmmmmbbbbbbbbbmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm’
Well, she may not have wanted him grabbing her there, but he wasn’t about to give this one up – both of Ben’s thumbs and forefingers were used to gently squeeze and tug on Anna’s nipples. They were already hardened and erect, and despite herself Anna couldn’t help letting out a very sexy moan as Ben rolled her nipples between his fingers and thereby toyed with her senses – a moan that certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Ben’s ears. After a few moments of allowing himself to enjoy this sense of sexual control, Ben’s hands left Anna’s body entirely – Anna sensed his left hand drop away from her, then heard a faint cracking sound. She was just trying to bring her head round to the left to try and hear or sense what was going on when a sudden, horrible icy sensation invaded her stomach.
Anna squealed into her gag like a banshee as Ben slipped the cube of ice under her stomach, leaving it resting right under her belly button – he snaked out from under her arms, positioned himself firmly back in his favourite position on her buttocks, and sat back to watch the fireworks. He moved himself a little further forward onto the small of her back, to ensure that she couldn’t buck away from the ice cube by pinning her stomach onto the freezing implement of torture. Hands failing, buttocks clenching, shoulders helter skelter all over the place, Anna looked as marvellous as ever. Ben leaned forward, and undid the clasp at the back of her bra.
Anna screamed…
TBC
