midrifftickler
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Here is part 3 of Chapter 18 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
Chapter 18: Fun Friday
Previous Chapter
Chapter 18: Fun Friday, Part 2
Dawn nodded excitedly at Connor’s question, trying to push her torso up even more. Then she yelped as both gloves buzzed on the tops of her toes. “Cohohohon!” she whined. He went under her toes, letting the vibrating of the massage gloves do the work. Still surprised, she tried to wiggle her feet around to get the tools off them, but the ankle cuffs significantly limited their mobility. “Hehehey nohohot the feheheheet!” Instead of listening to her, he grabbed the toes of one foot with a buzzing glove, which tickled as well as secured it in place. His other hand began to tickle her soles, the vibrating of the fingers adding a little bit to the natural tickling motion. “Gehehet ohohout ohohohof thehehere, Cohohohon!” she demanded through her giggles, but he ignored her. Connor continued focusing on the foot for a minute, and then he grabbed the other one and switched to tickling it. In the middle of the couch, her super sensitive stomach raised and lowered itself, trying to draw some ticklish attention of its own, to no avail. All Dawn wanted to do was to fall into Tummy Paradise ticklee mode, but her feet were nowhere near ticklish enough to even approach that state. Unable to enjoy the tickles, she complained and moved her midriff around, trying to simultaneously annoy and entice him into going after her best spot. He tickled her feet for another few minutes, ignoring her cries for a more ticklish experience.
When he finally decided that he had enough of her feet, Connor walked up to her face and lifted the blindfold. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, then glanced down to her raised stomach, then back at him, hoping she would not have to actually ask why he failed to target there. He threw back an evil smile. “You know, it took me a while to get through those documents, and up until you left, that was a lot harder. Plus, you promised to help-”
“And I did!” she shot back. “I looked-”
“You got through one sheet of paper,” he interrupted. “One sheet before you decided we both needed a distraction. Plus, with how much you already wanted a break, I had to go through that again.”
“Okay, I didn’t really help,” she admitted, still pushing for a reason for the foot tickling.
“Then you decided that it would be a good idea to distract me, or at least try to. I knew you were right there the whole time, up until you left. It probably took me an extra minute per paper just thinking about you beside me.”
“So what?”
“I needed to look through all those documents today. Tomorrow’s Saturday, and I don’t know what all is open on the weekend. I start work Monday, and I can’t be running around then.”
“Okay, you got through everything.”
“Despite you trying to keep that from happening.”
“Come on, Con.”
“We’re not done,” he declared as he grabbed the blindfold from her forehead and slipped it back over her eyes. “I’m going to tickle you some more.”
“Oh, okay,” she brightened up. Her belly still had a chance for a good tickling.
“But I’m going to stay away from your belly.”
“Wait, wha- hehehehe?” she giggled as a massage glove buzzed on and slid into her armpit.
“You’re not my mistress anymore, Dawn, and you can’t dictate when I tickle you. If I need to get something done, I need to know that you won’t interfere. So no tummy tickles. I’m going to tickle your armpits, your feet, maybe even your legs. Not your belly. Maybe not even your ribs or hips, just because of how close they are to your belly.”
“Buhu- buhuhu- buhuhuhut…” she stammered through her giggles.
“No, Dawn.”
“Cohohohon Con! Stahahap! No nohohoho mohohohore!” she protested as a massage glove went up onto her neck, the other one focusing on her armpit. Even worse than the abdomen avoidance was the fact that she could speak full words in between giggles, which just emphasized her inability to fall into Tummy Paradise ticklee mode.
“Quit, yohohohou- urgh, Con, quihihihit!” Frustrated as her armpits became the full focus of the tickles again, she tried to command her former slave to stop, but he did not comply. She kept complaining, and after a full five minutes of infuriatingly ineffective tickles, he ceased. Putting all her anger into making her voice commanding, she shouted, “Connor Richard Kester! Stop this!”
His voice became a little more distant. “Yes, Mistress.”
Hearing submission in his tone, she pressed with another sharply delivered order, “Tickle my tummy.”
A pause came before he responded, “No.”
“Con, I’m warning you. Tickle me right now.”
After another delay, his reply came with a tonal shrug of the shoulders, “Okay.” The massage gloves came back on, and they went after her feet.
“Nohohohoho, not thehehehere!” All the authority in her tone was lost as giggles took over. “Up hehehere!” Once again, she pushed her stomach into the spotlight, trying to get her former slave to tickle there. He still ignored her, focusing on the much less ticklish spot for a significant amount of time.
“Dawn, I’m not going to tickle your belly. You can’t make me,” he announced when he finally stopped tickling her feet.
“Get up here and take off my blindfold,” she growled out a command, and he obeyed. “Take those gloves off.” They ended up beside the couch. “Uncuff my wrists.” He did so. “Shirt off.” It came off. “Hands above your head.” He complied. “Higher.” They went up, and the bottom of his belly began to stretch. His ribs would be extra ticklish if she decided to get them.
Instead, she decided to try for more torso tickles. “Hands at your sides, Con.” His stomach untensed. “Cuff my hands.” He restrained her. “Tickle my belly.”
He blinked a few times before responding, “No.”
“Connor Richard Kester, tickle my belly.”
“No.” He shook his head to emphasize the denial.
“Con,” an edge came into her voice, “tickle me right this instant.”
“Okay,” he shrugged his shoulders. His fingers found her armpits and began wiggling in them.
“Nohohoho stop!” Why did he listen to the order to tickle her, but not on her belly? “Tihihickle my tuhuhummehehee!”
“No, Dawn. If I’m going to tickle you, I’m going to tickle where I choose.”
“Then stahahahap.”
“Make me.”
She certainly tried, thrashing against the restraints and throwing all sorts of threats at him. Unfortunately, her giggles prevented any of the threats from sounding all that realistic, and she had made sure these cuffs could keep her from escaping even the most intense belly tickles. She was not getting out until Connor stopped, and he was making it clear that he was staying away from her belly until he was ready to stop.
“So, Dawn, how ticklish are your knees feeling today?” He began moving towards her knees as his hands left her armpits.
“Connor Kester, come up here,” she demanded, and he flipped around. “Get those massage gloves,” she looked down, and he complied, slipping them over his hands. “Tickle my belly, Connor. Tickle it right now.”
After a pause, he looked her straight in the eyes, then looked down at the gloves on his hands. “You really want to have your belly tickled, don’t you, Dawn?”
“Yes!”
He glanced back towards the gloves, then sighed. Taking the gloves off, he stated, “Fine, if you really want it. Be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Downstairs, to get flossers.”
“Wait, what?!” she freaked out, yanking on all four cuffs.
“You want your belly tickled, and you still need to be punished for trying to distract me.”
“Get back here!” she bellowed before he could start down the stairs, and he stopped in place. “Con, you don’t need to do that. You don’t need to go get flossers.”
“Jen and Maddie said they were the only way to punish you,” he pointed out. “I didn’t want to have to use them, since you told me they reminded you of tickle slavery, but you’re not really giving me much choice. You insisted that I tickle your belly.”
“Fine, fine, fine, you don’t need to tickle me there,” she sputtered out, desperate to avoid a flosser torture. “Do what you want, just keep those things away.”
“Great!” He started back towards her with a smile. “So, how ticklish are your knees today?”
“Hehehehe nohohohohoho!” Less than a minute later, the massage gloves were back on his hands, and he was buzzing both the top and underside of one knee. “Stahahahap, Connor!” Unfortunately, the lack of flossers did not make his decision to continually avoid her abdomen any more pleasant, even if she knew it was for the best.
When he finally stopped several agonizingly long minutes later, she just glared up at him, not willing to say anything that could get flossers on her midriff. “I think that’s enough punishment, Dawn. Now, I’m going to let you out, but if you go after my ribs for this, I’ll punish you again, and it will be with flossers. Understand?”
“Yes, Con,” she stated with a sigh. Another limit on how much she could tease Connor with her tummy. No bikinis, and now no teasing at all when he was busy.
“I’ll tickle your belly sometime later today, I promise,” he declared as he undid the restraints on her wrists and ankles.
“Fine,” she glumly stated, still disappointed at the long, mildly ticklish punishment. “Did you find anything to do in that paperwork?”
“Not other than going to the bank. Want to do that now?”
“Sure.”
“Maybe after we get that done, we can find somewhere outside for me to tickle your belly,” he suggested.
That brightened her up a bit. “Okay,” she smiled. “I know some spots near the bank. Let’s get going!”
“Shouldn’t we put these away first?” he held up the gloves, and she snatched them.
“I’ll take care of these and get my paperwork from the bank; you get whatever you need.” She grabbed the blindfold, then hurried back to her room. After finding the Tickle Slave Operations folder, she retrieved the bank statement and placed it in a new folder. Connor was ready for her when she got back near the stairs, and she handed him the folder to put his documents in. “I’ll meet you at the door.” Hurrying downstairs, she dumped the massage gloves and blindfold on the rack, not bothering to put them away. She rushed back up, slipped some flip flops on, and led Connor outside.
Next Chapter
Chapter 18: Fun Friday, Part 4
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
Chapter 18: Fun Friday
Previous Chapter
Chapter 18: Fun Friday, Part 2
Dawn nodded excitedly at Connor’s question, trying to push her torso up even more. Then she yelped as both gloves buzzed on the tops of her toes. “Cohohohon!” she whined. He went under her toes, letting the vibrating of the massage gloves do the work. Still surprised, she tried to wiggle her feet around to get the tools off them, but the ankle cuffs significantly limited their mobility. “Hehehey nohohot the feheheheet!” Instead of listening to her, he grabbed the toes of one foot with a buzzing glove, which tickled as well as secured it in place. His other hand began to tickle her soles, the vibrating of the fingers adding a little bit to the natural tickling motion. “Gehehet ohohout ohohohof thehehere, Cohohohon!” she demanded through her giggles, but he ignored her. Connor continued focusing on the foot for a minute, and then he grabbed the other one and switched to tickling it. In the middle of the couch, her super sensitive stomach raised and lowered itself, trying to draw some ticklish attention of its own, to no avail. All Dawn wanted to do was to fall into Tummy Paradise ticklee mode, but her feet were nowhere near ticklish enough to even approach that state. Unable to enjoy the tickles, she complained and moved her midriff around, trying to simultaneously annoy and entice him into going after her best spot. He tickled her feet for another few minutes, ignoring her cries for a more ticklish experience.
When he finally decided that he had enough of her feet, Connor walked up to her face and lifted the blindfold. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, then glanced down to her raised stomach, then back at him, hoping she would not have to actually ask why he failed to target there. He threw back an evil smile. “You know, it took me a while to get through those documents, and up until you left, that was a lot harder. Plus, you promised to help-”
“And I did!” she shot back. “I looked-”
“You got through one sheet of paper,” he interrupted. “One sheet before you decided we both needed a distraction. Plus, with how much you already wanted a break, I had to go through that again.”
“Okay, I didn’t really help,” she admitted, still pushing for a reason for the foot tickling.
“Then you decided that it would be a good idea to distract me, or at least try to. I knew you were right there the whole time, up until you left. It probably took me an extra minute per paper just thinking about you beside me.”
“So what?”
“I needed to look through all those documents today. Tomorrow’s Saturday, and I don’t know what all is open on the weekend. I start work Monday, and I can’t be running around then.”
“Okay, you got through everything.”
“Despite you trying to keep that from happening.”
“Come on, Con.”
“We’re not done,” he declared as he grabbed the blindfold from her forehead and slipped it back over her eyes. “I’m going to tickle you some more.”
“Oh, okay,” she brightened up. Her belly still had a chance for a good tickling.
“But I’m going to stay away from your belly.”
“Wait, wha- hehehehe?” she giggled as a massage glove buzzed on and slid into her armpit.
“You’re not my mistress anymore, Dawn, and you can’t dictate when I tickle you. If I need to get something done, I need to know that you won’t interfere. So no tummy tickles. I’m going to tickle your armpits, your feet, maybe even your legs. Not your belly. Maybe not even your ribs or hips, just because of how close they are to your belly.”
“Buhu- buhuhu- buhuhuhut…” she stammered through her giggles.
“No, Dawn.”
“Cohohohon Con! Stahahap! No nohohoho mohohohore!” she protested as a massage glove went up onto her neck, the other one focusing on her armpit. Even worse than the abdomen avoidance was the fact that she could speak full words in between giggles, which just emphasized her inability to fall into Tummy Paradise ticklee mode.
“Quit, yohohohou- urgh, Con, quihihihit!” Frustrated as her armpits became the full focus of the tickles again, she tried to command her former slave to stop, but he did not comply. She kept complaining, and after a full five minutes of infuriatingly ineffective tickles, he ceased. Putting all her anger into making her voice commanding, she shouted, “Connor Richard Kester! Stop this!”
His voice became a little more distant. “Yes, Mistress.”
Hearing submission in his tone, she pressed with another sharply delivered order, “Tickle my tummy.”
A pause came before he responded, “No.”
“Con, I’m warning you. Tickle me right now.”
After another delay, his reply came with a tonal shrug of the shoulders, “Okay.” The massage gloves came back on, and they went after her feet.
“Nohohohoho, not thehehehere!” All the authority in her tone was lost as giggles took over. “Up hehehere!” Once again, she pushed her stomach into the spotlight, trying to get her former slave to tickle there. He still ignored her, focusing on the much less ticklish spot for a significant amount of time.
“Dawn, I’m not going to tickle your belly. You can’t make me,” he announced when he finally stopped tickling her feet.
“Get up here and take off my blindfold,” she growled out a command, and he obeyed. “Take those gloves off.” They ended up beside the couch. “Uncuff my wrists.” He did so. “Shirt off.” It came off. “Hands above your head.” He complied. “Higher.” They went up, and the bottom of his belly began to stretch. His ribs would be extra ticklish if she decided to get them.
Instead, she decided to try for more torso tickles. “Hands at your sides, Con.” His stomach untensed. “Cuff my hands.” He restrained her. “Tickle my belly.”
He blinked a few times before responding, “No.”
“Connor Richard Kester, tickle my belly.”
“No.” He shook his head to emphasize the denial.
“Con,” an edge came into her voice, “tickle me right this instant.”
“Okay,” he shrugged his shoulders. His fingers found her armpits and began wiggling in them.
“Nohohoho stop!” Why did he listen to the order to tickle her, but not on her belly? “Tihihickle my tuhuhummehehee!”
“No, Dawn. If I’m going to tickle you, I’m going to tickle where I choose.”
“Then stahahahap.”
“Make me.”
She certainly tried, thrashing against the restraints and throwing all sorts of threats at him. Unfortunately, her giggles prevented any of the threats from sounding all that realistic, and she had made sure these cuffs could keep her from escaping even the most intense belly tickles. She was not getting out until Connor stopped, and he was making it clear that he was staying away from her belly until he was ready to stop.
“So, Dawn, how ticklish are your knees feeling today?” He began moving towards her knees as his hands left her armpits.
“Connor Kester, come up here,” she demanded, and he flipped around. “Get those massage gloves,” she looked down, and he complied, slipping them over his hands. “Tickle my belly, Connor. Tickle it right now.”
After a pause, he looked her straight in the eyes, then looked down at the gloves on his hands. “You really want to have your belly tickled, don’t you, Dawn?”
“Yes!”
He glanced back towards the gloves, then sighed. Taking the gloves off, he stated, “Fine, if you really want it. Be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“Downstairs, to get flossers.”
“Wait, what?!” she freaked out, yanking on all four cuffs.
“You want your belly tickled, and you still need to be punished for trying to distract me.”
“Get back here!” she bellowed before he could start down the stairs, and he stopped in place. “Con, you don’t need to do that. You don’t need to go get flossers.”
“Jen and Maddie said they were the only way to punish you,” he pointed out. “I didn’t want to have to use them, since you told me they reminded you of tickle slavery, but you’re not really giving me much choice. You insisted that I tickle your belly.”
“Fine, fine, fine, you don’t need to tickle me there,” she sputtered out, desperate to avoid a flosser torture. “Do what you want, just keep those things away.”
“Great!” He started back towards her with a smile. “So, how ticklish are your knees today?”
“Hehehehe nohohohohoho!” Less than a minute later, the massage gloves were back on his hands, and he was buzzing both the top and underside of one knee. “Stahahahap, Connor!” Unfortunately, the lack of flossers did not make his decision to continually avoid her abdomen any more pleasant, even if she knew it was for the best.
When he finally stopped several agonizingly long minutes later, she just glared up at him, not willing to say anything that could get flossers on her midriff. “I think that’s enough punishment, Dawn. Now, I’m going to let you out, but if you go after my ribs for this, I’ll punish you again, and it will be with flossers. Understand?”
“Yes, Con,” she stated with a sigh. Another limit on how much she could tease Connor with her tummy. No bikinis, and now no teasing at all when he was busy.
“I’ll tickle your belly sometime later today, I promise,” he declared as he undid the restraints on her wrists and ankles.
“Fine,” she glumly stated, still disappointed at the long, mildly ticklish punishment. “Did you find anything to do in that paperwork?”
“Not other than going to the bank. Want to do that now?”
“Sure.”
“Maybe after we get that done, we can find somewhere outside for me to tickle your belly,” he suggested.
That brightened her up a bit. “Okay,” she smiled. “I know some spots near the bank. Let’s get going!”
“Shouldn’t we put these away first?” he held up the gloves, and she snatched them.
“I’ll take care of these and get my paperwork from the bank; you get whatever you need.” She grabbed the blindfold, then hurried back to her room. After finding the Tickle Slave Operations folder, she retrieved the bank statement and placed it in a new folder. Connor was ready for her when she got back near the stairs, and she handed him the folder to put his documents in. “I’ll meet you at the door.” Hurrying downstairs, she dumped the massage gloves and blindfold on the rack, not bothering to put them away. She rushed back up, slipped some flip flops on, and led Connor outside.
Next Chapter
Chapter 18: Fun Friday, Part 4
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