midrifftickler
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Here is part 4 of Chapter 15 of Dawn's Story. I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!
Chapter Beginnings
Chapter 1: Perilous Paradise
Chapter 2: The Evil Box
Chapter 3: On the Run
Chapter 4: A New Paradise
Chapter 5: Tummy Testing
Chapter 6: Hidden Citizen
Chapter 7: Tummy Training
Chapter 8: Sessions and Reflections
Chapter 9: Full Citizen
Chapter 10: The Mistress
Chapter 11: Royals and Revelations
Chapter 12: The Rarest Reunion
Chapter 13: Novice Mistress
Chapter 14: Taking Control
Chapter 15: Mistress Dawn
Chapter 16: Free Friends
Chapter 17: Thursday Trips
Previous Chapter
Chapter 15: Mistress Dawn, Part 3
When she returned to the painting room, Dawn went straight to her tickle slave and unwrapped the double straps on his ribs. She took a few steps back to observe her current painting, and as expected, the rib coloring did still look slightly different than the belly and chest, mostly in the transition areas where the straps had been. Other than that, though, the painting actually looked fairly good, especially for a first pass through the two separate sections. She wrapped the straps back over Connor’s chest, then grabbed the straps on the ground and secured her slave’s stomach. “Mistress, before you start painting again, may I make a request?”
“It depends,” Dawn responded, guarded. “What kind of request?”
“May I use the restroom?”
“Oh!” Once again, the mistress was very thankful that the blindfold shielded her flustered face from her slave. “Yes, of course, Con. I’ll have to put the Rib Counter back on first, though.”
“I understand, Mistress.”
“Push your ribs out a little,” Dawn ordered after undoing the stomach straps, and Connor complied. She hurriedly fastened the Rib Counter over his most ticklish spot, then snugly fit one of the recently removed straps under it, this time not pulling it around the X-frame.
“Mistress?”
“I just want to make sure you’re not looking at my painting,” she answered the question before he could ask it. After completely removing the top chest strap, Dawn redid the second one so that it no longer held Connor to the bondage. Finally, she removed the blindfold, seeing her slave blink a few times to get adjusted to the light. “Con, I’m going to release your ankles and wrists. Let me know if you feel like you’re going to fall, and I will catch you. However, don’t try and take advantage of my generosity. The obedience program is on.”
“Understood, Mistress,” Connor bought the lie about her having more control over him, and he did what he could to brace his legs after she freed them. After she unlocked his wrists, the slave did a couple of squats to test his lower body strength and then began heading for the room’s exit. “The restroom’s on the right, right?”
“Yes, Con.” The mistress started following her tickle slave. “I’ll be outside when you get done, and then I’m putting you back on the X-frame.”
“Yes, Mistress.” The slave continued on and made a quick trip to the restroom. When he returned, he headed straight for the bondage without prompting, positioning himself exactly how he was before. He did not put up any resistance as she secured his arms and legs, nor when she reapplied the blindfold. With him no longer able to see any part of the painting, she fixed the belly and chest straps, adding the new ones on, before finally removing the Rib Counter.
“Okay, Con, back to the painting,” she announced. “Like I said before, it’s time for some touchups, starting with your ribs. This should not take very long, and I’ll still be listening to make sure you don’t get too exhausted. Until then, have a good laugh.” She gently applied the brush to Connor’s ribs, and he immediately collapsed into pure laughter. Since a slight bit of the ribcage was exposed during the belly and chest paintings, Dawn could tell exactly where she needed to add paint. The tops of the trees needed some more green to distinguish them better from the grass, and some of the grass also needed a light coat. After quickly finishing up those areas, the mistress put her paintbrush back by the green bucket. Connor had not exhausted himself in the first painting, so Dawn grabbed the light blue paintbrush and put a single coat on the bottom layer of sky. As she neared the end, her slave’s energy was starting to wane, so the painter opted to take a break.
“Is that it, Mistress?” Connor pleaded after taking a few sips of water.
“Not yet, but almost. I just want to add a few more details so it looks more realistic. I think you’ll like the end result. There’s only a tiny bit left on your ribs, and then I’ll move back to the other spots.”
“Oh.” The disappointment in Connor’s tone was clear. “Does that mean that you’ll tickle my armpits again when you move the straps?”
“Not this time. For as little work as I’ll do down there, I think your ribs are the only spot that needs to be absolutely still. Even if you jerk around a little, I don’t think it’ll ruin the painting.”
“I’ll still try not to, Mistress.”
“As you should. Now, let’s get your ribs finished up.” Dawn set the water bottles outside the painting space and grabbed the green paintbrush once more. This time, she dipped it in a lighter green color and began painting little lines. The grass came to life in the form of individual blades on Connor’s ribs. Not wanting to overdo it, either with her slave’s stamina or the windiness of her setting, Dawn scattered single blades across the sensitive surface.
She stepped back to take a quick look at the painted ribs, and, finding them satisfactory, undid the straps on Connor’s midriff. Grabbing her paintbrush, she added more blades across the abdomen, spreading them out in a similar way to how she did the ribs. Connor kept true to his promise and did not squirm very much, aided in this effort by Dawn not pressing the paintbrush hard into his sensitive spots.
Finally, Dawn took another comprehensive look at the grass and decided that she liked it. She removed the chest straps and observed the whole painting, smiling after realizing that it was probably one of her better body paintings. “Okay, Con, it’s done,” she proudly announced.
“Thank goodness,” he breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
“Want some more water before I show you?” she offered, and he accepted. The two took another short break, and then Dawn went into her drawers and grabbed a camera.
“Mistress, are you going to let me out so I can see the painting?” Connor questioned.
“I always take a picture of body paintings so I can keep them. I’ll free you and take you over to the mirror after.”
“Okay, Mistress.”
Dawn took a picture of her painting, and although it was not as good as the real thing, it would be sufficient for a memory. After putting the camera back on her desk, she grabbed a sturdy chair from the corner of the room and set it by the X-frame before getting to work on the hip straps. “Now, Con, because I want you to see the entire painting, I won’t put the Rib Counter back on you. However, I will stay behind you for the entire time. You try and turn around on me, and I’ll tickle you until you’re on the ground. I’m fine if you want to turn your head to talk to me, but not your body.”
“Understood, Mistress,” he confirmed, adding a firm nod as she freed both his shoulders.
“I’m going to undo your ankle straps next. Since the Rib Counter’s not on, I put a chair next to the X-frame, just in case you feel unsteady. Let me know if you need to sit down.”
“Okay, Mistress. Can you take the blindfold off?”
“I will, after this.” She began to undo the ankle straps, then took off the blindfold, then finished freeing him with the wrist straps. As she took the bondage off his wrists, she gripped his arm with her second hand, hoping it could prevent a fall until she could wrap an arm around his hips. Luckily, Connor was as steady as earlier, and he did not wobble at all. “Are you okay, Con?” she wondered as she came beside him, hands out to catch him if he fell.
“Yes, Mistress. I just need to stretch out my legs.” After squatting a couple of times, he turned his head to smile at Dawn. “Now, how about we look at that painting? After how much that tickled, I’d like to see the result.”
“Of course,” she smiled confidently.
Inside her mind, Dawn was much less confident. She thought the painting was great, but there was still a nagging doubt in her mind. It had been torture for Connor to get through it, and she really, really hoped that the torment would not overly influence his opinion of the end result. As they walked to the mirror, she kept a smile on her face, even though her nerves were still very present.
The tickle slave furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at the reflected image of his chest, ribs, and stomach. Dawn stepped to the side, ensuring that her smile was visible in Connor’s peripheral vision. “I like it, Dawn,” he finally spoke up after an agonizing thirty seconds, although he continued analyzing the painting.
“Thanks, Con.” Her smile turned into a beam of joy as a wave of relief washed over her.
Connor offered her a small smile in return, but then he stepped closer to the mirror. “Is that… is the dog Max? It looks a whole lot like him.”
“Yes, it is,” Dawn proudly answered.
“It is?” Connor’s smile broadened to match Dawn’s, and his eyes darted between her reflection and the stomach part of the painting. “That’s definitely him!” His head began darting between his mistress and the painting of his former dog. “Wow, you got his squirrel-chasing expression so perfect, Dawn! I love it so much! You took a picture of it, right?”
“I did.”
“When you get it printed out, can I please have a copy?”
“Absolutely. I’m so glad you like it.”
“No, Dawn, I love it. Where is this supposed to be, near Fremont Lake?”
“That was where we went for vacation after kindergarten, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was! That was a fun time, and I remember Max going crazy with the squirrels there.”
“That’s what gave me the idea.”
“Wow. This is so amazing. Can I give you a hug?”
With Connor’s gaze focused on her, Dawn shrunk. Getting a hug from Connor as a reward was tempting, almost tempting enough that she agreed without thinking. However, before the words could come out, her mind kicked into gear. Accepting that would require her to abandon her strict policy that was currently keeping him from having any chance at tickling her. If she allowed this, it would open up a direct path for him to tickle her sides, and she would not have the benefit of reaction time to get his ribs and make him stop. The thought of being tickled into submission by her slave again made the decision for her. “Uh, no, Con. Not yet. Once the Rib Counter’s back on, yes, but not before then.”
“Understood, Mistress.” That simple denial brought the collective mood down, and although Connor and Dawn both smiled when they looked back at the painting, their expressions were weaker than before. After a few more minutes, the excitement of the nostalgic painting wore off, and Connor spoke up, “Mistress, I’d still like the picture of this, but I think I’m finished looking.”
“Okay, Con. Let’s get you back on the X-frame.”
“Back on there?”
“Yes, I still have to clean you up,” Dawn poked his ribs for emphasis, and he let out a shrill shriek.
“But you just put on the paint remover, right?” he pleaded, clearly knowing what he was in for.
“Not quite; it’s a little more work than that,” she gently pushed him towards the bondage, and he began walking reluctantly. When they got back to the tickling frame, she stood behind it and ordered him to resume his earlier position. “Keep your arms and legs still, or I will torture you.” He nodded, said the obligatory words, and froze in a standing spread-eagle. For her part, Dawn restrained him quickly, but she still doubled up on the wrist and ankle restraints.
“So, Mistress, what exactly did you mean by ‘a little more work’?” Connor nervously wondered after he was tied to the X-frame.
“I have to scrub the paint off,” Dawn came around the bondage with an evil smile.
“Oh.”
“Yes, the paint’s got to go somewhere. It doesn’t all dissolve with the remover.”
“Is that why you wanted me to wear the work pants? Is the paint going to go there?”
“Not if I can help it,” Dawn corrected. “I’ve got towels that I use for taking the excess paint off. The remover and scrubbing will dissolve most of it, and the rest will be loose enough for the towel.”
“Okay, Mistress.” With no extra bonds to hold any spot in place, Connor clenched his midsection and ribs.
“You’ll have a lot of laughs, Con.” Smiling deviously, Dawn headed to the closet to grab a towel, and on the way back, she stopped to get a scrubbing brush, a pair of gloves, and the paint remover. Connor watched her the entire way, his stomach and chest moving in and out with nervous breaths. When she got back in front of him, the mistress declared, “Con, the bristles on these are soft enough to not hurt any bellies I’ve painted, so I don’t think they’ll scratch you painfully. However, if they do, let me know right away, and I’ll figure out something else.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Now, go ahead and plead, laugh normal, whatever. I don’t need to focus like when I was painting,” she instructed as she put on the gloves.
“Mistress?”
“Yes?”
“Will this be as long as when you painted my ribs?”
“No, it should be a lot shorter. The brush will make sure of that, although it might tickle just as much.”
“Okay, Mistress.” Dawn poured plenty of paint remover onto the brush, then traded the remover for the towel. With the bristles covered in cleaning material, she placed the torture tool on Connor’s chest and began scrubbing. “NOHOHOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHASE STAHAHAHAP! TOHOHOO MUHUHUCH!” As allowed, the tickle slave began begging for mercy immediately. Dawn ignored the words, but still kept the volume and tone in mind as she cleared the top of her painting. Her promise of a shorter cleaning quickly came true, as she finished scrubbing the chest in just a few minutes. To alleviate her tickle slave’s misery, Dawn gave him a break while toweling the area off and pouring more paint remover onto the brush.
“MIHIHIHISTREHEHESS! NOHOHOHOT AHAHAHAHAHA!” Apparently, Connor had been tickled enough that he gave up speaking just two words into the rib scrubbing. His laughter got significantly louder during the torturous cleaning and even started to drop near the end, but Dawn persisted until the towel could finish clearing up her slave’s most ticklish spot. Once the brush was recoated in paint remover, the painter moved down to the stomach for the last phase of cleaning. Just as she had done when painting the background, Dawn started at the middle of the bare belly and scrubbed over to the sides, which added a natural side-tickling break for each section.
Although she did not see any remaining paint, just to be thorough, Dawn put some more remover on the brush and briefly scrubbed her slave’s entire upper body with it. “Okay, Con, you look clean,” she proclaimed after wiping the remaining liquid remover off with the towel.
“Mistress, can I request something?”
“I can’t guarantee that I’ll never paint you again,” Dawn denied the inevitable request. “I thought it was fun, and you liked the result.”
“Well, yes, I did, but-”
“No buts for you. However, I promise that this type of painting won’t happen randomly. I’ll only paint you with these brushes again if you need a serious punishment. Otherwise, if I decide I want to paint something on you, I can always use my soft brushes. They will tickle you less or not at all, although I guess the end scrubbing will always tickle pretty bad.”
“Okay, Mistress. I suppose that’s the best I can ask for.”
“That’s the best I’ll offer,” she confirmed. “Now, push your ribs out a little bit.” Connor winced as he obeyed, but he relaxed a little when instead of tickling his outstretched tickle spot, Dawn put the Rib Counter back on him. “Time to get you down from there for good. Again, if you need to sit down, the chair’s right there. Just let me know, and I’ll help you over. Also…” she set up the Rib Counter’s obedience program and showed him the remote, “this will be on.” He sighed and nodded, and she began undoing his restraints from the front, to make it easier to catch him if he fell. Luckily, he was still in good shape to stand.
Dawn hovered protectively beside her slave, but after his earlier breaks, he made it all the way upstairs without so much as wobbling. When they finally reached the living room, she ushered him to the couch and ordered him to sit. She silently deactivated the obedience program on the way to the kitchen. As she was about to grab a snack for Connor, she glanced at the clock and realized that it was already past noon. Shocked, she walked back into the living room. “Hey, Con,” she squeaked, “you know how I said we’d go to the grocery store to get stuff for lunch?”
“Yes, Mistress. Are we heading out now?” he pushed himself up from a half-reclined position.
“Umm, turns out that painting you took longer than I expected. It’s already past noon, and I know that painting took a lot out of you. Would you like to just eat lunch now? I’ve still got sandwiches. We can go to the grocery store after lunch to get ingredients to make something new tomorrow. If sandwiches don’t sound good, though, we can go to the store now.”
“I’d prefer to eat, Mistress. I’m still pretty tired.”
“Okay, go sit at the table. I’ll get the sandwich stuff out.” Connor nodded and forced himself up, and with the effort he put in to stand, Dawn warily walked beside him until he was sitting again. She hurriedly grabbed all the sandwich stuff and set it out, and the two made their lunch. Just like last night, the two ate in silence, and this time, Dawn was fine with it. She had thoroughly exhausted Connor with the painting, and she wanted to give him as much space as possible to regain his energy.
Next Chapter
Chapter 15: Mistress Dawn, Part 5
Chapter Beginnings
Chapter 1: Perilous Paradise
Chapter 2: The Evil Box
Chapter 3: On the Run
Chapter 4: A New Paradise
Chapter 5: Tummy Testing
Chapter 6: Hidden Citizen
Chapter 7: Tummy Training
Chapter 8: Sessions and Reflections
Chapter 9: Full Citizen
Chapter 10: The Mistress
Chapter 11: Royals and Revelations
Chapter 12: The Rarest Reunion
Chapter 13: Novice Mistress
Chapter 14: Taking Control
Chapter 15: Mistress Dawn
Chapter 16: Free Friends
Chapter 17: Thursday Trips
Previous Chapter
Chapter 15: Mistress Dawn, Part 3
When she returned to the painting room, Dawn went straight to her tickle slave and unwrapped the double straps on his ribs. She took a few steps back to observe her current painting, and as expected, the rib coloring did still look slightly different than the belly and chest, mostly in the transition areas where the straps had been. Other than that, though, the painting actually looked fairly good, especially for a first pass through the two separate sections. She wrapped the straps back over Connor’s chest, then grabbed the straps on the ground and secured her slave’s stomach. “Mistress, before you start painting again, may I make a request?”
“It depends,” Dawn responded, guarded. “What kind of request?”
“May I use the restroom?”
“Oh!” Once again, the mistress was very thankful that the blindfold shielded her flustered face from her slave. “Yes, of course, Con. I’ll have to put the Rib Counter back on first, though.”
“I understand, Mistress.”
“Push your ribs out a little,” Dawn ordered after undoing the stomach straps, and Connor complied. She hurriedly fastened the Rib Counter over his most ticklish spot, then snugly fit one of the recently removed straps under it, this time not pulling it around the X-frame.
“Mistress?”
“I just want to make sure you’re not looking at my painting,” she answered the question before he could ask it. After completely removing the top chest strap, Dawn redid the second one so that it no longer held Connor to the bondage. Finally, she removed the blindfold, seeing her slave blink a few times to get adjusted to the light. “Con, I’m going to release your ankles and wrists. Let me know if you feel like you’re going to fall, and I will catch you. However, don’t try and take advantage of my generosity. The obedience program is on.”
“Understood, Mistress,” Connor bought the lie about her having more control over him, and he did what he could to brace his legs after she freed them. After she unlocked his wrists, the slave did a couple of squats to test his lower body strength and then began heading for the room’s exit. “The restroom’s on the right, right?”
“Yes, Con.” The mistress started following her tickle slave. “I’ll be outside when you get done, and then I’m putting you back on the X-frame.”
“Yes, Mistress.” The slave continued on and made a quick trip to the restroom. When he returned, he headed straight for the bondage without prompting, positioning himself exactly how he was before. He did not put up any resistance as she secured his arms and legs, nor when she reapplied the blindfold. With him no longer able to see any part of the painting, she fixed the belly and chest straps, adding the new ones on, before finally removing the Rib Counter.
“Okay, Con, back to the painting,” she announced. “Like I said before, it’s time for some touchups, starting with your ribs. This should not take very long, and I’ll still be listening to make sure you don’t get too exhausted. Until then, have a good laugh.” She gently applied the brush to Connor’s ribs, and he immediately collapsed into pure laughter. Since a slight bit of the ribcage was exposed during the belly and chest paintings, Dawn could tell exactly where she needed to add paint. The tops of the trees needed some more green to distinguish them better from the grass, and some of the grass also needed a light coat. After quickly finishing up those areas, the mistress put her paintbrush back by the green bucket. Connor had not exhausted himself in the first painting, so Dawn grabbed the light blue paintbrush and put a single coat on the bottom layer of sky. As she neared the end, her slave’s energy was starting to wane, so the painter opted to take a break.
“Is that it, Mistress?” Connor pleaded after taking a few sips of water.
“Not yet, but almost. I just want to add a few more details so it looks more realistic. I think you’ll like the end result. There’s only a tiny bit left on your ribs, and then I’ll move back to the other spots.”
“Oh.” The disappointment in Connor’s tone was clear. “Does that mean that you’ll tickle my armpits again when you move the straps?”
“Not this time. For as little work as I’ll do down there, I think your ribs are the only spot that needs to be absolutely still. Even if you jerk around a little, I don’t think it’ll ruin the painting.”
“I’ll still try not to, Mistress.”
“As you should. Now, let’s get your ribs finished up.” Dawn set the water bottles outside the painting space and grabbed the green paintbrush once more. This time, she dipped it in a lighter green color and began painting little lines. The grass came to life in the form of individual blades on Connor’s ribs. Not wanting to overdo it, either with her slave’s stamina or the windiness of her setting, Dawn scattered single blades across the sensitive surface.
She stepped back to take a quick look at the painted ribs, and, finding them satisfactory, undid the straps on Connor’s midriff. Grabbing her paintbrush, she added more blades across the abdomen, spreading them out in a similar way to how she did the ribs. Connor kept true to his promise and did not squirm very much, aided in this effort by Dawn not pressing the paintbrush hard into his sensitive spots.
Finally, Dawn took another comprehensive look at the grass and decided that she liked it. She removed the chest straps and observed the whole painting, smiling after realizing that it was probably one of her better body paintings. “Okay, Con, it’s done,” she proudly announced.
“Thank goodness,” he breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
“Want some more water before I show you?” she offered, and he accepted. The two took another short break, and then Dawn went into her drawers and grabbed a camera.
“Mistress, are you going to let me out so I can see the painting?” Connor questioned.
“I always take a picture of body paintings so I can keep them. I’ll free you and take you over to the mirror after.”
“Okay, Mistress.”
Dawn took a picture of her painting, and although it was not as good as the real thing, it would be sufficient for a memory. After putting the camera back on her desk, she grabbed a sturdy chair from the corner of the room and set it by the X-frame before getting to work on the hip straps. “Now, Con, because I want you to see the entire painting, I won’t put the Rib Counter back on you. However, I will stay behind you for the entire time. You try and turn around on me, and I’ll tickle you until you’re on the ground. I’m fine if you want to turn your head to talk to me, but not your body.”
“Understood, Mistress,” he confirmed, adding a firm nod as she freed both his shoulders.
“I’m going to undo your ankle straps next. Since the Rib Counter’s not on, I put a chair next to the X-frame, just in case you feel unsteady. Let me know if you need to sit down.”
“Okay, Mistress. Can you take the blindfold off?”
“I will, after this.” She began to undo the ankle straps, then took off the blindfold, then finished freeing him with the wrist straps. As she took the bondage off his wrists, she gripped his arm with her second hand, hoping it could prevent a fall until she could wrap an arm around his hips. Luckily, Connor was as steady as earlier, and he did not wobble at all. “Are you okay, Con?” she wondered as she came beside him, hands out to catch him if he fell.
“Yes, Mistress. I just need to stretch out my legs.” After squatting a couple of times, he turned his head to smile at Dawn. “Now, how about we look at that painting? After how much that tickled, I’d like to see the result.”
“Of course,” she smiled confidently.
Inside her mind, Dawn was much less confident. She thought the painting was great, but there was still a nagging doubt in her mind. It had been torture for Connor to get through it, and she really, really hoped that the torment would not overly influence his opinion of the end result. As they walked to the mirror, she kept a smile on her face, even though her nerves were still very present.
The tickle slave furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at the reflected image of his chest, ribs, and stomach. Dawn stepped to the side, ensuring that her smile was visible in Connor’s peripheral vision. “I like it, Dawn,” he finally spoke up after an agonizing thirty seconds, although he continued analyzing the painting.
“Thanks, Con.” Her smile turned into a beam of joy as a wave of relief washed over her.
Connor offered her a small smile in return, but then he stepped closer to the mirror. “Is that… is the dog Max? It looks a whole lot like him.”
“Yes, it is,” Dawn proudly answered.
“It is?” Connor’s smile broadened to match Dawn’s, and his eyes darted between her reflection and the stomach part of the painting. “That’s definitely him!” His head began darting between his mistress and the painting of his former dog. “Wow, you got his squirrel-chasing expression so perfect, Dawn! I love it so much! You took a picture of it, right?”
“I did.”
“When you get it printed out, can I please have a copy?”
“Absolutely. I’m so glad you like it.”
“No, Dawn, I love it. Where is this supposed to be, near Fremont Lake?”
“That was where we went for vacation after kindergarten, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, it was! That was a fun time, and I remember Max going crazy with the squirrels there.”
“That’s what gave me the idea.”
“Wow. This is so amazing. Can I give you a hug?”
With Connor’s gaze focused on her, Dawn shrunk. Getting a hug from Connor as a reward was tempting, almost tempting enough that she agreed without thinking. However, before the words could come out, her mind kicked into gear. Accepting that would require her to abandon her strict policy that was currently keeping him from having any chance at tickling her. If she allowed this, it would open up a direct path for him to tickle her sides, and she would not have the benefit of reaction time to get his ribs and make him stop. The thought of being tickled into submission by her slave again made the decision for her. “Uh, no, Con. Not yet. Once the Rib Counter’s back on, yes, but not before then.”
“Understood, Mistress.” That simple denial brought the collective mood down, and although Connor and Dawn both smiled when they looked back at the painting, their expressions were weaker than before. After a few more minutes, the excitement of the nostalgic painting wore off, and Connor spoke up, “Mistress, I’d still like the picture of this, but I think I’m finished looking.”
“Okay, Con. Let’s get you back on the X-frame.”
“Back on there?”
“Yes, I still have to clean you up,” Dawn poked his ribs for emphasis, and he let out a shrill shriek.
“But you just put on the paint remover, right?” he pleaded, clearly knowing what he was in for.
“Not quite; it’s a little more work than that,” she gently pushed him towards the bondage, and he began walking reluctantly. When they got back to the tickling frame, she stood behind it and ordered him to resume his earlier position. “Keep your arms and legs still, or I will torture you.” He nodded, said the obligatory words, and froze in a standing spread-eagle. For her part, Dawn restrained him quickly, but she still doubled up on the wrist and ankle restraints.
“So, Mistress, what exactly did you mean by ‘a little more work’?” Connor nervously wondered after he was tied to the X-frame.
“I have to scrub the paint off,” Dawn came around the bondage with an evil smile.
“Oh.”
“Yes, the paint’s got to go somewhere. It doesn’t all dissolve with the remover.”
“Is that why you wanted me to wear the work pants? Is the paint going to go there?”
“Not if I can help it,” Dawn corrected. “I’ve got towels that I use for taking the excess paint off. The remover and scrubbing will dissolve most of it, and the rest will be loose enough for the towel.”
“Okay, Mistress.” With no extra bonds to hold any spot in place, Connor clenched his midsection and ribs.
“You’ll have a lot of laughs, Con.” Smiling deviously, Dawn headed to the closet to grab a towel, and on the way back, she stopped to get a scrubbing brush, a pair of gloves, and the paint remover. Connor watched her the entire way, his stomach and chest moving in and out with nervous breaths. When she got back in front of him, the mistress declared, “Con, the bristles on these are soft enough to not hurt any bellies I’ve painted, so I don’t think they’ll scratch you painfully. However, if they do, let me know right away, and I’ll figure out something else.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Now, go ahead and plead, laugh normal, whatever. I don’t need to focus like when I was painting,” she instructed as she put on the gloves.
“Mistress?”
“Yes?”
“Will this be as long as when you painted my ribs?”
“No, it should be a lot shorter. The brush will make sure of that, although it might tickle just as much.”
“Okay, Mistress.” Dawn poured plenty of paint remover onto the brush, then traded the remover for the towel. With the bristles covered in cleaning material, she placed the torture tool on Connor’s chest and began scrubbing. “NOHOHOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHASE STAHAHAHAP! TOHOHOO MUHUHUCH!” As allowed, the tickle slave began begging for mercy immediately. Dawn ignored the words, but still kept the volume and tone in mind as she cleared the top of her painting. Her promise of a shorter cleaning quickly came true, as she finished scrubbing the chest in just a few minutes. To alleviate her tickle slave’s misery, Dawn gave him a break while toweling the area off and pouring more paint remover onto the brush.
“MIHIHIHISTREHEHESS! NOHOHOHOT AHAHAHAHAHA!” Apparently, Connor had been tickled enough that he gave up speaking just two words into the rib scrubbing. His laughter got significantly louder during the torturous cleaning and even started to drop near the end, but Dawn persisted until the towel could finish clearing up her slave’s most ticklish spot. Once the brush was recoated in paint remover, the painter moved down to the stomach for the last phase of cleaning. Just as she had done when painting the background, Dawn started at the middle of the bare belly and scrubbed over to the sides, which added a natural side-tickling break for each section.
Although she did not see any remaining paint, just to be thorough, Dawn put some more remover on the brush and briefly scrubbed her slave’s entire upper body with it. “Okay, Con, you look clean,” she proclaimed after wiping the remaining liquid remover off with the towel.
“Mistress, can I request something?”
“I can’t guarantee that I’ll never paint you again,” Dawn denied the inevitable request. “I thought it was fun, and you liked the result.”
“Well, yes, I did, but-”
“No buts for you. However, I promise that this type of painting won’t happen randomly. I’ll only paint you with these brushes again if you need a serious punishment. Otherwise, if I decide I want to paint something on you, I can always use my soft brushes. They will tickle you less or not at all, although I guess the end scrubbing will always tickle pretty bad.”
“Okay, Mistress. I suppose that’s the best I can ask for.”
“That’s the best I’ll offer,” she confirmed. “Now, push your ribs out a little bit.” Connor winced as he obeyed, but he relaxed a little when instead of tickling his outstretched tickle spot, Dawn put the Rib Counter back on him. “Time to get you down from there for good. Again, if you need to sit down, the chair’s right there. Just let me know, and I’ll help you over. Also…” she set up the Rib Counter’s obedience program and showed him the remote, “this will be on.” He sighed and nodded, and she began undoing his restraints from the front, to make it easier to catch him if he fell. Luckily, he was still in good shape to stand.
Dawn hovered protectively beside her slave, but after his earlier breaks, he made it all the way upstairs without so much as wobbling. When they finally reached the living room, she ushered him to the couch and ordered him to sit. She silently deactivated the obedience program on the way to the kitchen. As she was about to grab a snack for Connor, she glanced at the clock and realized that it was already past noon. Shocked, she walked back into the living room. “Hey, Con,” she squeaked, “you know how I said we’d go to the grocery store to get stuff for lunch?”
“Yes, Mistress. Are we heading out now?” he pushed himself up from a half-reclined position.
“Umm, turns out that painting you took longer than I expected. It’s already past noon, and I know that painting took a lot out of you. Would you like to just eat lunch now? I’ve still got sandwiches. We can go to the grocery store after lunch to get ingredients to make something new tomorrow. If sandwiches don’t sound good, though, we can go to the store now.”
“I’d prefer to eat, Mistress. I’m still pretty tired.”
“Okay, go sit at the table. I’ll get the sandwich stuff out.” Connor nodded and forced himself up, and with the effort he put in to stand, Dawn warily walked beside him until he was sitting again. She hurriedly grabbed all the sandwich stuff and set it out, and the two made their lunch. Just like last night, the two ate in silence, and this time, Dawn was fine with it. She had thoroughly exhausted Connor with the painting, and she wanted to give him as much space as possible to regain his energy.
Next Chapter
Chapter 15: Mistress Dawn, Part 5
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