Mastertank1
2nd Level Yellow Feather
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- Jan 21, 2006
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Downfall Of The Overconfident Dominatrix
By Mastertank1
This took place in the Autumn of 1975. I was then 27 years of age, and working free lance as a professional bodyguard. If I worked barehanded and in New York City I got paid $500 a day. If I worked armed and traveling it was $1500 a day, if the travel was outside the U.S. $2500. I was not hurting for cash and had lots of free time.
I was a member and the elected Master At Arms of the Till Eulenspiegel (pronounced Oy-len-shpee-gell) Society, or TES. This was best described as a BDSM proselytizing movement. The regular weekly meetings began with a presentation on a BDSM related topic, followed by a socializing break, followed by the circle. In the circle, each person present announced their name or handle and what their personal scene was.
It was mid October at the meeting where this story began. There was a strikingly beautiful woman who had caught my eye many times. I had never pursued her because in the circle she always announced herself as a stone gay dominant. (Stone was scene slang for ‘it’s written in stone’ or unalterable). I was and am a stone hetero dominant. In this evening’s circle she went into more detail; “My name is Lady Diane. In my personal life I’m stone gay dominant. Professionally, I’m a mixed wrestling dominatrix. Men pay me to wrestle with them, and I always win. I can defeat any man in a wrestling match.”
That set off my opportunity alert. Lady Diane was about 25, 5’9”, perhaps 130 pounds of solid, shapely and muscular flesh. Her shoulder blade length hair was a healthy, glossy, and (as I discovered later) natural dark auburn. Her eyes were a wonderful emerald green. She had a wide, generous mouth with medium full lips. Her elfin, heart shaped face, figure, legs and feet were each of them separately do-a-double-take gorgeous. Taken together, her beauty was nothing short of breathtaking.
I was 27, 6’1”, 270 pounds of muscle without enough excess fat to fry an egg in. I was also a ranked martial artist, who knew how to deal with smaller, quicker opponents. I was bad, and I knew it. I felt that Lady Diane had jut made a very rash statement in a public place. I knew that if I challenged her now, she could not back down without probably losing clients. As soon as she finished speaking, while she was standing proudly, arms akimbo, challengingly staring down all the men and women in the inner row of seats, I spoke up; “Not only can you not beat me in a wrestling match, you wouldn’t last 10 minutes against me. If you think otherwise, lets have a match at the upcoming Halloween party. Our esteemed chapter president, Black Bart, whose integrity is unquestioned, can referee. He can also hold the wagers.”
Diane replied; “You’re on, wiseguy. But...” looking puzzled; “What wagers?”
“I thought we should make it interesting by having something at stake lady Diane. Here’s my proposed wager. If you win the match, by pinfall, submission, countout or disqualification, you get $100,000. If you lose but last longer than ten minutes, you still get $50,000 but have to pay the loser’s wager. If you lose the match after the ten minute mark, you, and that cute little blonde slave girl of yours, will spend the entire month of November as my live in slaves. If you lose in under ten minutes, add the month of December to that. How about it?”
Diane licked her lips. Bear in mind that a dollar back in 1975 bought about what $5 buys in 2006. I could see in her eyes her mind going Ka-Ching!
She said ; “Okay. You’re on. Now stand up so I can see who I’m going to be taking money from.”
I had been in the third row of seats. When I started to speak, I deliberately slumped in my seat so that only the top of my head was visible from across the circle. Now I stood up, and everyone saw Diane’s jaw drop. With goggling eyes, Diane took in the size 66 width of my shoulders, the depth of my 64 inch chest, my 48 inch waist, my 27.5 inch biceps and 18.25 inch forearms. She knew she was in trouble, but, as I had planned, could not back out now.
I arranged to have wrestling mats delivered to the TES party loft, and I bought two certified checks for $50,000 each, which I placed in Black Bart’s safekeeping. Diane and her slave Alice arrived with suitcases. Clearly, they expected to be going away for a while. I asked Bart to wait until midnight to announce the match. I wanted to let Diane stew for a while, and perhaps drink a little too much. I drank only ginger ale. Diane was gulping wine.
When Bart announced the match and everyone gathered around the mat, Diane was in a wrestling uniform that she used professionally. I dropped the jacket and trunks of my Kung-Fu uniform, and stood in a Speedo and sneakers. A lot of women and gay men in the crowd gasped, either in appreciation or horror. Probably the latter.
We came to the center of the ring. I had figured that Diane’s best move would be to try to stay off the mats, darting in just in time to break the countout ten count, and then out again, using her speed to avoid me. That’s why my friend Bart ordered the match to begin with the traditional collar and elbow opening hold, long used to start wrestling matches. In this hold, each contestant places their right hand on the opponent’s left shoulder, their left hand on the opponent’s right elbow.
When Bart barked; “Begin!” , Diane ducked down and spun left, intending to bolt off the mats. She failed to shake the grip of my left hand on her right elbow. I slid that hand down to her wrist and yanked her towards me. I grabbed that elbow with my right hand and whipped the arm into a hammerlock. Then I bent both knees until my heels were touching my butt. I jerked Diane back till she lost her balance, then lifted her straight up by her hammerlocked arm. She was in midair, at the full height of my raised arms, with all her weight hanging from her twisted shoulder. It took only one bounce to make her scream in pain, and yell; “I give! I give!”
I at once set Diane on her feet. I firmly pushed her partly dislocated shoulder joint back into place, then began to administer an accupressure massage to relieve the pain. Diane closed her eyes and sighed in relief . Then she realized just who it was massaging her and her eyes opened wide.
Diane turned her head to look at me with wild speculation in her eyes. I smiled and said; “That was a lot less than ten minutes. You won’t receive any money, and you and your slave girl are mine until dawn on January first. Don’t worry, I’ll see to it that your rent and utility bills and such are paid on time. That’s small change to me. Also, don’t be afraid. I know you tune out once any man announces that he’s a dom, not a sub, but if you had ever paid attention you’d know I’m not into giving my subs any pain. Not any, at all, ever. I go to great lengths to avoid it. To me, this match was not part of my scene.”
“No pain at all? Then, what are you into?”
“Tell me Diane, are you ticklish?”
Diane’s face went pale. Her mouth opened wide as she silently mouthed; “Oh My God.”
I smiled; “That’s a big yes. Oh Diane, we’re going to have lots of fun between now and New Year’s Day.”
While we were talking, I had continued massaging her abused arm. Diane, who was facing to my right now, was no longer in pain. She closed her eyes again and emitted little sounds of pleasure. I’m very good at massage. I leaned in and whispered in Diane’s ear; “It’s past midnight. From until dawn on New Year’s Day, you’re mine.”
Diane opened her eyes and turned her face to look into mine with a questioning expression. I placed my left hand on her left hip and took the back of her neck in my right hand. I kissed her.
Diane tried not to react. I persisted, gently teasing her lips with my own lips and tongue. My right thumb was stroking her cheek while the fingers and palm of that hand were caressing the back and left side of her neck. My left hand slowly moved up her side and inward across her taught belly and lean ribcage until the fingers were in position to start softly teasing the underside of her left breast. When I started the fourth gentle stroke on her breast, I also grazed the pad of my left thumb over Diane’s firmly erect left nipple. At that point, she gasped, and left her lips open as if in invitation. When I began exploring the inside of her mouth with my tongue, her tongue responded, engaging mine in a mutual, stroking caress. My thumb felt her nipple grow harder.
I suddenly turned the caresses under her breast and on her neck into tickles. Her closing tightly, Diane giggled helplessly into my kiss. After nearly a minute, the air around her became perfumed with the unmistakable scent of female arousal. I halted the kiss and the tickles. I whispered into her ear; “You never really were either stone gay or stone dominant were you? You were always secretly a versatile (switchable between dom and sub, AND bisexual) weren’t you?”
Diane murmured; “Yes, I am......master?”
“You should only address me as master if it makes you feel better. I know that you hid your true orientation to make money. I know that some subs won’t want a dom who is a sub for someone else. I’ll keep your secret Diane, if you’re a good slave for 61 days.”
“I will be. I promise.”
“Everyone has preferences. Do you prefer being dom or sub, and do you prefer men or women as lovers. Be honest.”
“ Yes. Dom, and women.”
“But you won’t fins it wholly unbearable, being a sub to a man?”
“Not at all. As long as there isn’t much pain involved, and you said none. That sounds fine. It’s only...”
“I saw how you blenched when I asked if you were ticklish. You’re very ticklish, aren’t you?”
“Extremely.”
“Answer this honestly Diane; on a scale of 1 to 10, speaking of your entire body over all, how ticklish are you?”
“About 9.5”
“Ah. No wonder you paled. The effect tickling has on you frightens you, doesn’t it?”
In a soft whisper; “Yes.”
“I’ll try to change that. When our 61 days are over, if I’m as good a dom as I think, the thought or mention of tickling will bring only pleasure to your mind. Now, speaking only of your toes and the bottoms of your feet, on the same scale of 1 to 10, how ticklish are you there?”
Diane gulped. She was thinking; “I might as well tell him the truth. He’s certainly going to find out anyway.”
Aloud, she said; “If 10 is the most ticklish a normal human can possibly be, I think my feet and toes are a 12,” and she shuddered.
“Excellent. Let’s collect Alice, change into street clothes and go. My car’s in the lot round the corner. I want to stop at this Indian place up on 2nd between 5th and 6th where they make an incredible crabmeat Masala, for a late dinner. Then we can head up to my place.”
“Sounds good. I love Indian, and I love seafood. Where’s your place?”
“On the East River overlook block of East 54th street. I rent a furnished townhouse. I have a ground level terrace with a river view.”
That meant it was one of the two houses at the river end of the street. Diane’s eyebrows rose. It was among the most impressive addresses in the city.
In the changing room, we all watched each other change clothes. Judging by facial expressions, all of us liked what we saw. Diane looked way hotter naked than clothed. Her muscle tone was perfect. I could clearly see the muscles in her arms and legs and along her back and torso. Tendons and ligaments were very visible in her underarms, along her neck, and in the hollows of her elbows and knees. Her breasts were largish B cups, nicely rounded, with large pale aureoles and nipples which seemed small in repose but grew quite prominent under the influence of arousal.
Her feet were not the kind I like best, but they were quite attractive. The skin on her feet was a uniform medium tan on top and a soft and vulnerable looking pink on the bottom. It was also uniformly smooth, free of blemish or callous. They were long and narrow, about a size 8 N, but the arches were extremely high, which I liked a lot. Her toes were long stemmed, with cute little round pads on the ends. Very nice.
Alice was equally attractive but in a very different way. Diane’s live in, lifestyle slave was 21 years old, about 5’ 5 1/2 ” and 118 pounds. She was more fully figured than the lean and athletic Diane, but by no means at all overweight. Alice’s limbs and torso all had a pleasing, femininely curvy shape.
There was no place where muscle striations or tendons were prominent. Alice had a sexy bubble butt, and her breasts were a medium C cup, also nicely rounded. Her medium brown, wide aureoles made a visually pleasing contrast with her alabaster skin.
Alice’s nipples were larger than Diane’s to start with, but didn’t grow nearly as much when turned on. From her ankles up, Alice was slightly less ticklish than Diane. From the ankles down, possibly just slightly more. Neither of the two beauties could endure even one moment of tickling below the ankles.
Alice’s feet were exactly the kind I like best. A perfect size 6WW, they were short, wide, and looked very soft. Smooth, free of callous or blemish, the arches were not quite as high as Diane’s but much wider. Alice had cute, pudgy little round toes with short stems.
Alice’s hair was a natural pale butter yellow, worn in a near Afro; the curls were not quite tight enough to be called that. It was 7 inches deep on all sides, and made Alice’s head look almost spherical from a distance.
Alice’s eyes were a deep cobalt blue and enormous in her apple cheeked, cherub round face. Her mouth was on the small side of medium, with very full cupid’s bow lips.
What the girls saw was the 27 year old and very lean version of what you can see in member photos under Mastertank1. The muscles, then as now, were not the carefully proportioned and sculpted ones of a bodybuilder. Then, as now, my workouts aim for strength and endurance, and the hell with definition.
Into our street clothes we ate at the Indian seafood place and then cabbed up to the townhouse I rented. We hung up our coats and I gave them a tour of the place. I wanted us all to digest our food before doing anything strenuous, so we sat on the sofa in front of the fire and sipped some fine Greek brandy and talked for a while. I allowed a full hour after eating, then took the girls to the Fungeon ( for Fun Dungeon) to begin.
The walls were covered in faux stone. The lighting was by electrical simulated torches on the walls. There was a huge stone fireplace with a log fire. In front of the fireplace, there was a bondage wing chair (like the one described in my earlier true story, “First Time Ticklesex”). There was also a vertical restraint frame. This was two vertical 4”x 4” timbers rising from a large, heavy base shaped like a pyramid with the top cut off. In this top were two padded oval depressions for knees.
The verticals were slotted on the sides facing each other. Several horizontal bars fitted into the slots. They could be adjusted to different heights above the base, and each had a different built on structure to be used for different purposes.
There were ankle and toe restraints on the base, or the ankles and toes could be fastened to the back of the lowest horizontal bar. This bar had special restraints which forced the feet into a position with the ball of the foot pointed, (maximizing the depth of the arch,) while the toes were both flexed, (stretching the skin of the soles,) and splayed (exposing the tender flesh between the toes).
The second horizontal bar had an adjustable, padded back rest. This could be adjusted forward and back as well as up and down. The pad would press the small of the victim’s back, arching her forward in a very lewd manner.
The third horizontal had wrist restraints on the back, adjustable from side to side. These also had finger restraints so the victim’s palms were vulnerable. The fourth had a padded forehead restraint, arching the victim’s neck back to expose her neck and throat, and pads to loop her elbows over before fastening her fingers and wrists to the third bar.
In front of the frame was an adjustable height platform with a seat. The adjustments were to make it easy for a seated dom to orally stimulate a bound sub while tickling most of her body, or for a standing dom to enter the sub while able to reach her entire body, from head to toes.
Around the walls were numerous bondage devices. There were a traditional stocks and pillory and a stocks with T bar wrist restraint. There was a rack, a bondage bed, (which was a platform bed four poster with lavish numbers of restraint fastening points built into the posts, headboard, footboard, and retractable side rails,) and a St. Andrew’s cross with 3 axis rotation.
In the darkest corner, away from the fireplace and torches, there was a floor to ceiling giant spider web made of inch thick ropes. In the middle of the floor stood a device called a pedestal. This consisted of a pedestal topped by a padded surface shaped like the upper part of a woman’s back, from the waist to the shoulders inclusive. Telescoping arms pulled out from the five corners of the shape, adjustable in length to accommodate women of different sizes. The limb restraint arms each had fasteners at two points along the length, and were equipped respectively to immobilize fingers and toes. The fifth arm was to restrain the head and neck.
Four of these items had been custom built to my own designs. These were the wing chair, the vertical frame, the platform, and the bed.
I led the two women into this chamber and showed them the devices and their features. Then I sat on the edge of the bed, and ordered Diane to stand between my legs and undress.
The moment her head and upraised arms were entangled in her tight pullover, I began tickling her ribs on both sides with both hands. Diane burst into loud, startled laughter and couldn’t stop. It took her nearly five minutes to finish getting the pullover off. I noticed a wicked grin on Alice’s face.
I kept tickling any exposed flesh as Diane removed one garment after another. It took her a total of half an hour to get naked with the constant ticklish distractions. By that time, her nipples were fully engorged and her labia getting there. Diane looked distinctly embarrassed. There was definitely an evil glint in Alice’s eye. I decided to take Alice down a peg or two.
I sent Diane to sit in the wing chair and told Alice to stand where Diane had been. I pinned Alice’s legs in place against the bed by hooking my ankles behind hers. I told her to raise her hands high, then i pulled her loose sweater partway off and looped the flapping ends of the sleeves around her arms.
I told Alice to get the sweater the rest of the way off, and at once started tickling her sides and her underarms. Alice was very slightly less ticklish on her upper body than Diane, but I had put her in a harder situation to get out of. It took Alice fifteen minutes of laughing and squirming to get that sweater off, twenty-five more to get everything else off.
By that time, Alice’s body was clearly begging for sexual attention, as she gasped for breath. Alice looked suitably chastened. Diane was openly smirking. It seemed that neither woman had realized how ticklish the other was. I foresaw a change in the relationship between them in the near future. I decided to encourage that change, just to be evil.
I led Diane to the pedestal. I fastened each of Diane’s legs at two points; just above the ankle, and just below the bulge of the calf. I fastened each arm at the wrist and just above the elbow. I angled the head restraint so that Diane’s eyes were directed at the point where the wall behind her head met the ceiling. I fastened each finger in a padded strap, and each toe in a three quarters clamp. I adjusted the pedestal height to the level of my own crotch when standing, then pulled up a chair and sat down to Diane’s right. We were ready to go.
I surprised her by tickling the palms of her hands first. She looked really shocked when that made her start giggling. I kept that up for a few minutes. Diane’s nipples, which had subsided while I teased Alice, were starting to rise again. Once again, Diane looked very embarrassed.
I slowly tickled my way down Diane’s arms to her shoulders, and then let my hands wander onto her neck. That really made her start struggling, and she started laughing instead of just giggling. I spent awhile enjoying the vulnerability of Diane’s shapely neck, the soft curve of her throat, the extremely soft and sensitive flesh under her chin.
When I leaned in and started to tickle her ears with my tongue, Diane screamed. She laughed wildly and begged me to stop. Of course, I didn’t. I just kept on going from one ear to the other and back again.
When I moved down to play with Diane’s luscious belly and groin, she began uncontrollably wiggling while she laughed. Using my tongue on her bellybutton made her scream and beg again. I was amused to see the growing evidence of Diane's involuntary arousal. A quick look showed that Alice was also becoming aroused as she watched her mistress getting dominated and turned on by a male tickler.
My next tickling stop was Diane’s glorious ass. It was so hot. I found out that tickling her there drove her crazy with twitching and wriggling and incessant giggles. It also got to her sexually, as her turn began to escape from rational control.
I found Diane’s legs extremely attractive in their long, lean, shapely muscularity. I moved the chair down and spent the next hour or so tickling them. With her legs in the two point restraints, Diane’s knees couldn’t bend. In fact, the only real movement available to her was to lift her hips up about four inches or force them down about an inch.
I began with curves of her calf muscles, tickling with feather light strokes of my fingertips. When I saw Diane reacting helplessly to that, I moved on to tickle the hollows behind her knees. I loved the feel of the tendons there tensing, straining, finally giving up in fatigue and relaxing for a few moments before starting again on a futile attempt to escape from the maddening tickle.
The sweet, wicked tease kept Diane helplessly giggling most of the time. During those moments when Diane’s straining tendons relaxed in fatigue, the tickling intensified and made her laugh out loud. Those times also increased her arousal dramatically. When I noticed those intervals of defenselessness getting longer and closer together, I moved on to tickle her beautiful thighs.
I knew that If I kept tickling the knee hollows, growing fatigue might actually damage the muscles, and that was the last thing I wanted. When I began working over her thighs, at first she held perfectly still, the only signs that I was getting to her were the steady increase in size of her nipples and labia, the growing moisture at the mouth of her sex.
I began with the tops of her thighs, then moved around to the outer sides and on to the backs of those delightful thighs. All this time, Diane kept giggling getting hornier and holding still. I could see what a strain that was getting to be for her. Then I began softly running my fingertips up and down the deep crease along each inner thigh where one muscle slid over the other, and she lost it!
She let out a peal of sweet, desperate laughter that went on for longer than seemed possible. Her hips bucked as far up as they could in her bondage and stayed there. Her gorgeous legs started to quiver helplessly, then the arch she was holding collapsed and she simply guffawed and squirmed for the next half hour while my hands wandered all over those soft, tender inner thighs.
I watched her relax when I stopped, and reveled in the imploring look in her eyes. I loved how that look turned to helpless reproach when I started to tickle her feet. The pale pink shade of the bottoms contrasting with the tan of the tops was really pretty. Her frantic, futile attempts to wiggle and to curl the toe over were exciting to watch. But the sound of her laughter! The sweet, warm, throaty, sexy sound of her helpless, despairing laughter was wonderful.
I loved the feel of the smooth, tight stretched skin of her soles as my hands wandered over them. Diane was recently pedicured. I explored the softness her heels, the roundness of the greater and lesser balls of her feet. I teased the tiny valley in between the two. I slowly strummed the flats of her soles. I delicately played with the pads of Diane’s trapped, immobilized toes.
I wriggled four fingers of each hand into the insanely sensitive spaces between Diane’s toes. When I placed the tips of my fingers right on the tips of her toes and began softly moving them in tiny circles, poor Diane just went ballistic.
She screamed and she screamed and she begged me to stop. After three or four minutes I did, while Diane lay there gasping. Her arousal was as extreme as I had ever seen. Then I began slowly strumming her sweetly curved, deep, exquisitely sensitive arches.
It was swiftly clear that this was her most ticklish place. Every atom of strength in her athletic body seemed to be focused on laughing as hard, as loudly and as out of control wildly as possible. Her hips kept involuntarily jerking up and then down to the greatest extent that she could in her bonds. As I switched from the strumming strokes to the spiderdance technique, I Diane’s torment increase, and the stark disbelief on her face.
After several minutes of this I could see Diane struggling to get out some words in between peals of laughter. When she finally did, I was very surprised at what they were. Instead of the curses or pleas I expected, Diane gasped out; “Fuck me you big hunky bastard!” And went back to helplessly laughing again.
I leaned in to work on her labia and clit with my mouth while I kept right on tickling her feet. She didn’t know how to respond to that; both her mind and her body were deeply confused as she wavered between pleasure and agony. Then Diane came, and her body’s enjoyment took over. The smile on her face became less of a rictus and more an expression of enjoyment.
A few seconds later she suddenly found herself twice as ticklish as before, the result of her orgasm. In spite of the sudden increase in her ticklish suffering Diane soon came again, and then a third time and a fourth. Each time, I carefully noted the physical signs that she was about to climax, and when she was about to get off for the fifth time I drew back. I also stopped tickling.
While Diane gasped for breath, still unable to stop smiling, I asked if she still wanted me to fuck her. Now, I had deliberately rigged her response by waiting until she was right on the brink of cumming again to stop the stimulation and ask that question. Of course, she said yes. In great, highly obscene detail. Among other things, she expressed the hope that my male member was as big as the rest of me. In far blunter language. I told her it isn’t that long but it’s real thick. She said that was better than long.
I was busy disrobing. When she saw the item in question, she said it would do fine. During the discussion over drinks by the fireplace in the living room, we had determined that we could all safely do without condoms, with no risk of disease or pregnancy, so we did.
Diane didn’t see me gesture Alice over, signal her to silence, gesture her into the chair, and gesture to her to keep out of Diane’s restricted line of sight. Then I pointed at Alice’s hands and Diane’s helpless feet, and I mouthed; “When I say start, start. When I say stop, stop.”
Alice nodded silently. The expression on her face could only be described as unholy glee.
I was fully erect from the effects of having tickle tortured this lovely, defenseless women. I slowly and teasingly walked forward and entered her, feeling the inner sides of her luscious thighs eagerly tensing against the outer sides of mine. When I reached full insertion Diane shouted; “YES!” I quietly said; “Alice, start!”
At the first touch of Alice’s nails on her soles, poor Diane had time for one despairing NO before she was totally consumed with laughter again. I stood there and teased the backs of Diane’s thighs and I very soon felt her fifth powerful orgasm.
That’s when I reached out to tickle her ribs. For the first time in her ordeal, tears began leaking from Diane’s tightly closed eyes, but she came for the sixth time. I then moved my hands to her flanks, where they spider walked up and down those ticklish expanses.
I could feel Diane’s whole body shudder in tormented ecstasy as she came for the seventh time that night. Now I walked my fingers up into her armpits. This gave the same kind of enticing feel as the backs of her knees, because tendons were very close to the skin. I could feel them tense and squirm under the tickling touches of my fingers.
I switched to a continuous stroking in swirls at a medium speed, wanting to feel the continuous contact. Apparently that also tickled more, as her involuntary reactions showed. Then Diane came for the eighth time that night, and I moved my tickling hands to her beautiful breasts.
When my fingertips played with the undersides of her breasts, Diane’s eyes shot wide open. Her tears streamed like rivers. Her laughter poured out like an auditory Niagara Falls. When she came for the ninth time I leaned down to nibble and lick Diane’s nipples. I could see that she tried to nod yes, that she liked that, and then I felt what I’d been waiting for.
I felt Diane’s tenth helpless, laughing orgasm begin before the ninth one had ended! This was a state of continuous orgasm. Soon I could feel her eleventh, twelfth and more. Each one started before the previous one was finished. Diane’s lovely face was suffused with intense, joyful agony.
I pressed the button to lower the pedestal all the way down to the floor. I could tell by Diane’s unbroken laughter that Alice was quick enough on the uptake to never have lost contact with Diane’s ticklish feet. I lay forward, letting my weight rest on Diane in a missionary position as the floor came up under us both. For the first time I started to do my share of the work, stroking in and out. Meanwhile my hands moved to tickle Diane’s neck and throat.
Diane’s rictus smile began to actually look happy. I knew it. I had her enjoying her torture. The peaks of Diane’s continuous orgasm kept hitting closer and closer together, the peaks lasting longer as the intervals between them got shorter. When I started to use all ten fingers to tickle her under her chin, Diane’s eyes, which had closed again, once more shot open, and this time they seemed to bulge out of her head.
Suddenly, Diane’s laugh took on a liquid, trilling note. Later she said that tickling was still just as unbearable, but she was enjoying it anyway, and didn’t understand it at all. Then I kissed her for the first time since I had bound her.
Diane’s body responded to that deep, warm kiss with a flood of pleasure that lifted her above the torture of the tickling. It took her to a place where torture, pleasure and joy were all one. I felt the muscles surrounding me inside of her start to contract rhythmically, and I had what was then the most powerful, thunderous orgasm I had ever experienced.
Diane matched it with what I call a second stage orgasm; fully an order of magnitude bigger and better than any she had ever had before. I shouted the order for Alice to stop, and she did. I ordered Alice to go to bed in the guest bedroom.
I knew Diane was about to act like a sub who, at least for the moment, was deeply in love with her dom. There was no need for her sub to see her sincerely thanking me for torturing her so unmercifully. I’m not into humiliating my subs unless they’re being punished for something that really made me angry. Never as a part of play.
When I hit the button that released all the bonds holding Diane, the first thing she did was to wrap her legs around my hips, cross her ankles and squeeze me tightly into her. A few seconds later she was enthusiastically kissing any part of me that was within reach of her mouth.
I dried us both off as I pulled out of her, with a soft, dry towel I had left near the pedestal before starting. I lifted Diane in my arms and carried her into my bedroom. I turned back the sheet while easily holding her with one arm, then slid her under the top sheet and slid in beside her. We cuddled a little.
Just before going to sleep, with her head on my chest, Diane looked up at me. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears. Tremulously, she asked; “Mitch, are you trying to make me a sub?”
I answered; “No, darlin’. Just a switchable.”
Diane smiled; “Oh. Okay.”
The tears went away, still unshed. Then she murmured; “Goodnight.........master.” and closed her eyes.
By Mastertank1
This took place in the Autumn of 1975. I was then 27 years of age, and working free lance as a professional bodyguard. If I worked barehanded and in New York City I got paid $500 a day. If I worked armed and traveling it was $1500 a day, if the travel was outside the U.S. $2500. I was not hurting for cash and had lots of free time.
I was a member and the elected Master At Arms of the Till Eulenspiegel (pronounced Oy-len-shpee-gell) Society, or TES. This was best described as a BDSM proselytizing movement. The regular weekly meetings began with a presentation on a BDSM related topic, followed by a socializing break, followed by the circle. In the circle, each person present announced their name or handle and what their personal scene was.
It was mid October at the meeting where this story began. There was a strikingly beautiful woman who had caught my eye many times. I had never pursued her because in the circle she always announced herself as a stone gay dominant. (Stone was scene slang for ‘it’s written in stone’ or unalterable). I was and am a stone hetero dominant. In this evening’s circle she went into more detail; “My name is Lady Diane. In my personal life I’m stone gay dominant. Professionally, I’m a mixed wrestling dominatrix. Men pay me to wrestle with them, and I always win. I can defeat any man in a wrestling match.”
That set off my opportunity alert. Lady Diane was about 25, 5’9”, perhaps 130 pounds of solid, shapely and muscular flesh. Her shoulder blade length hair was a healthy, glossy, and (as I discovered later) natural dark auburn. Her eyes were a wonderful emerald green. She had a wide, generous mouth with medium full lips. Her elfin, heart shaped face, figure, legs and feet were each of them separately do-a-double-take gorgeous. Taken together, her beauty was nothing short of breathtaking.
I was 27, 6’1”, 270 pounds of muscle without enough excess fat to fry an egg in. I was also a ranked martial artist, who knew how to deal with smaller, quicker opponents. I was bad, and I knew it. I felt that Lady Diane had jut made a very rash statement in a public place. I knew that if I challenged her now, she could not back down without probably losing clients. As soon as she finished speaking, while she was standing proudly, arms akimbo, challengingly staring down all the men and women in the inner row of seats, I spoke up; “Not only can you not beat me in a wrestling match, you wouldn’t last 10 minutes against me. If you think otherwise, lets have a match at the upcoming Halloween party. Our esteemed chapter president, Black Bart, whose integrity is unquestioned, can referee. He can also hold the wagers.”
Diane replied; “You’re on, wiseguy. But...” looking puzzled; “What wagers?”
“I thought we should make it interesting by having something at stake lady Diane. Here’s my proposed wager. If you win the match, by pinfall, submission, countout or disqualification, you get $100,000. If you lose but last longer than ten minutes, you still get $50,000 but have to pay the loser’s wager. If you lose the match after the ten minute mark, you, and that cute little blonde slave girl of yours, will spend the entire month of November as my live in slaves. If you lose in under ten minutes, add the month of December to that. How about it?”
Diane licked her lips. Bear in mind that a dollar back in 1975 bought about what $5 buys in 2006. I could see in her eyes her mind going Ka-Ching!
She said ; “Okay. You’re on. Now stand up so I can see who I’m going to be taking money from.”
I had been in the third row of seats. When I started to speak, I deliberately slumped in my seat so that only the top of my head was visible from across the circle. Now I stood up, and everyone saw Diane’s jaw drop. With goggling eyes, Diane took in the size 66 width of my shoulders, the depth of my 64 inch chest, my 48 inch waist, my 27.5 inch biceps and 18.25 inch forearms. She knew she was in trouble, but, as I had planned, could not back out now.
I arranged to have wrestling mats delivered to the TES party loft, and I bought two certified checks for $50,000 each, which I placed in Black Bart’s safekeeping. Diane and her slave Alice arrived with suitcases. Clearly, they expected to be going away for a while. I asked Bart to wait until midnight to announce the match. I wanted to let Diane stew for a while, and perhaps drink a little too much. I drank only ginger ale. Diane was gulping wine.
When Bart announced the match and everyone gathered around the mat, Diane was in a wrestling uniform that she used professionally. I dropped the jacket and trunks of my Kung-Fu uniform, and stood in a Speedo and sneakers. A lot of women and gay men in the crowd gasped, either in appreciation or horror. Probably the latter.
We came to the center of the ring. I had figured that Diane’s best move would be to try to stay off the mats, darting in just in time to break the countout ten count, and then out again, using her speed to avoid me. That’s why my friend Bart ordered the match to begin with the traditional collar and elbow opening hold, long used to start wrestling matches. In this hold, each contestant places their right hand on the opponent’s left shoulder, their left hand on the opponent’s right elbow.
When Bart barked; “Begin!” , Diane ducked down and spun left, intending to bolt off the mats. She failed to shake the grip of my left hand on her right elbow. I slid that hand down to her wrist and yanked her towards me. I grabbed that elbow with my right hand and whipped the arm into a hammerlock. Then I bent both knees until my heels were touching my butt. I jerked Diane back till she lost her balance, then lifted her straight up by her hammerlocked arm. She was in midair, at the full height of my raised arms, with all her weight hanging from her twisted shoulder. It took only one bounce to make her scream in pain, and yell; “I give! I give!”
I at once set Diane on her feet. I firmly pushed her partly dislocated shoulder joint back into place, then began to administer an accupressure massage to relieve the pain. Diane closed her eyes and sighed in relief . Then she realized just who it was massaging her and her eyes opened wide.
Diane turned her head to look at me with wild speculation in her eyes. I smiled and said; “That was a lot less than ten minutes. You won’t receive any money, and you and your slave girl are mine until dawn on January first. Don’t worry, I’ll see to it that your rent and utility bills and such are paid on time. That’s small change to me. Also, don’t be afraid. I know you tune out once any man announces that he’s a dom, not a sub, but if you had ever paid attention you’d know I’m not into giving my subs any pain. Not any, at all, ever. I go to great lengths to avoid it. To me, this match was not part of my scene.”
“No pain at all? Then, what are you into?”
“Tell me Diane, are you ticklish?”
Diane’s face went pale. Her mouth opened wide as she silently mouthed; “Oh My God.”
I smiled; “That’s a big yes. Oh Diane, we’re going to have lots of fun between now and New Year’s Day.”
While we were talking, I had continued massaging her abused arm. Diane, who was facing to my right now, was no longer in pain. She closed her eyes again and emitted little sounds of pleasure. I’m very good at massage. I leaned in and whispered in Diane’s ear; “It’s past midnight. From until dawn on New Year’s Day, you’re mine.”
Diane opened her eyes and turned her face to look into mine with a questioning expression. I placed my left hand on her left hip and took the back of her neck in my right hand. I kissed her.
Diane tried not to react. I persisted, gently teasing her lips with my own lips and tongue. My right thumb was stroking her cheek while the fingers and palm of that hand were caressing the back and left side of her neck. My left hand slowly moved up her side and inward across her taught belly and lean ribcage until the fingers were in position to start softly teasing the underside of her left breast. When I started the fourth gentle stroke on her breast, I also grazed the pad of my left thumb over Diane’s firmly erect left nipple. At that point, she gasped, and left her lips open as if in invitation. When I began exploring the inside of her mouth with my tongue, her tongue responded, engaging mine in a mutual, stroking caress. My thumb felt her nipple grow harder.
I suddenly turned the caresses under her breast and on her neck into tickles. Her closing tightly, Diane giggled helplessly into my kiss. After nearly a minute, the air around her became perfumed with the unmistakable scent of female arousal. I halted the kiss and the tickles. I whispered into her ear; “You never really were either stone gay or stone dominant were you? You were always secretly a versatile (switchable between dom and sub, AND bisexual) weren’t you?”
Diane murmured; “Yes, I am......master?”
“You should only address me as master if it makes you feel better. I know that you hid your true orientation to make money. I know that some subs won’t want a dom who is a sub for someone else. I’ll keep your secret Diane, if you’re a good slave for 61 days.”
“I will be. I promise.”
“Everyone has preferences. Do you prefer being dom or sub, and do you prefer men or women as lovers. Be honest.”
“ Yes. Dom, and women.”
“But you won’t fins it wholly unbearable, being a sub to a man?”
“Not at all. As long as there isn’t much pain involved, and you said none. That sounds fine. It’s only...”
“I saw how you blenched when I asked if you were ticklish. You’re very ticklish, aren’t you?”
“Extremely.”
“Answer this honestly Diane; on a scale of 1 to 10, speaking of your entire body over all, how ticklish are you?”
“About 9.5”
“Ah. No wonder you paled. The effect tickling has on you frightens you, doesn’t it?”
In a soft whisper; “Yes.”
“I’ll try to change that. When our 61 days are over, if I’m as good a dom as I think, the thought or mention of tickling will bring only pleasure to your mind. Now, speaking only of your toes and the bottoms of your feet, on the same scale of 1 to 10, how ticklish are you there?”
Diane gulped. She was thinking; “I might as well tell him the truth. He’s certainly going to find out anyway.”
Aloud, she said; “If 10 is the most ticklish a normal human can possibly be, I think my feet and toes are a 12,” and she shuddered.
“Excellent. Let’s collect Alice, change into street clothes and go. My car’s in the lot round the corner. I want to stop at this Indian place up on 2nd between 5th and 6th where they make an incredible crabmeat Masala, for a late dinner. Then we can head up to my place.”
“Sounds good. I love Indian, and I love seafood. Where’s your place?”
“On the East River overlook block of East 54th street. I rent a furnished townhouse. I have a ground level terrace with a river view.”
That meant it was one of the two houses at the river end of the street. Diane’s eyebrows rose. It was among the most impressive addresses in the city.
In the changing room, we all watched each other change clothes. Judging by facial expressions, all of us liked what we saw. Diane looked way hotter naked than clothed. Her muscle tone was perfect. I could clearly see the muscles in her arms and legs and along her back and torso. Tendons and ligaments were very visible in her underarms, along her neck, and in the hollows of her elbows and knees. Her breasts were largish B cups, nicely rounded, with large pale aureoles and nipples which seemed small in repose but grew quite prominent under the influence of arousal.
Her feet were not the kind I like best, but they were quite attractive. The skin on her feet was a uniform medium tan on top and a soft and vulnerable looking pink on the bottom. It was also uniformly smooth, free of blemish or callous. They were long and narrow, about a size 8 N, but the arches were extremely high, which I liked a lot. Her toes were long stemmed, with cute little round pads on the ends. Very nice.
Alice was equally attractive but in a very different way. Diane’s live in, lifestyle slave was 21 years old, about 5’ 5 1/2 ” and 118 pounds. She was more fully figured than the lean and athletic Diane, but by no means at all overweight. Alice’s limbs and torso all had a pleasing, femininely curvy shape.
There was no place where muscle striations or tendons were prominent. Alice had a sexy bubble butt, and her breasts were a medium C cup, also nicely rounded. Her medium brown, wide aureoles made a visually pleasing contrast with her alabaster skin.
Alice’s nipples were larger than Diane’s to start with, but didn’t grow nearly as much when turned on. From her ankles up, Alice was slightly less ticklish than Diane. From the ankles down, possibly just slightly more. Neither of the two beauties could endure even one moment of tickling below the ankles.
Alice’s feet were exactly the kind I like best. A perfect size 6WW, they were short, wide, and looked very soft. Smooth, free of callous or blemish, the arches were not quite as high as Diane’s but much wider. Alice had cute, pudgy little round toes with short stems.
Alice’s hair was a natural pale butter yellow, worn in a near Afro; the curls were not quite tight enough to be called that. It was 7 inches deep on all sides, and made Alice’s head look almost spherical from a distance.
Alice’s eyes were a deep cobalt blue and enormous in her apple cheeked, cherub round face. Her mouth was on the small side of medium, with very full cupid’s bow lips.
What the girls saw was the 27 year old and very lean version of what you can see in member photos under Mastertank1. The muscles, then as now, were not the carefully proportioned and sculpted ones of a bodybuilder. Then, as now, my workouts aim for strength and endurance, and the hell with definition.
Into our street clothes we ate at the Indian seafood place and then cabbed up to the townhouse I rented. We hung up our coats and I gave them a tour of the place. I wanted us all to digest our food before doing anything strenuous, so we sat on the sofa in front of the fire and sipped some fine Greek brandy and talked for a while. I allowed a full hour after eating, then took the girls to the Fungeon ( for Fun Dungeon) to begin.
The walls were covered in faux stone. The lighting was by electrical simulated torches on the walls. There was a huge stone fireplace with a log fire. In front of the fireplace, there was a bondage wing chair (like the one described in my earlier true story, “First Time Ticklesex”). There was also a vertical restraint frame. This was two vertical 4”x 4” timbers rising from a large, heavy base shaped like a pyramid with the top cut off. In this top were two padded oval depressions for knees.
The verticals were slotted on the sides facing each other. Several horizontal bars fitted into the slots. They could be adjusted to different heights above the base, and each had a different built on structure to be used for different purposes.
There were ankle and toe restraints on the base, or the ankles and toes could be fastened to the back of the lowest horizontal bar. This bar had special restraints which forced the feet into a position with the ball of the foot pointed, (maximizing the depth of the arch,) while the toes were both flexed, (stretching the skin of the soles,) and splayed (exposing the tender flesh between the toes).
The second horizontal bar had an adjustable, padded back rest. This could be adjusted forward and back as well as up and down. The pad would press the small of the victim’s back, arching her forward in a very lewd manner.
The third horizontal had wrist restraints on the back, adjustable from side to side. These also had finger restraints so the victim’s palms were vulnerable. The fourth had a padded forehead restraint, arching the victim’s neck back to expose her neck and throat, and pads to loop her elbows over before fastening her fingers and wrists to the third bar.
In front of the frame was an adjustable height platform with a seat. The adjustments were to make it easy for a seated dom to orally stimulate a bound sub while tickling most of her body, or for a standing dom to enter the sub while able to reach her entire body, from head to toes.
Around the walls were numerous bondage devices. There were a traditional stocks and pillory and a stocks with T bar wrist restraint. There was a rack, a bondage bed, (which was a platform bed four poster with lavish numbers of restraint fastening points built into the posts, headboard, footboard, and retractable side rails,) and a St. Andrew’s cross with 3 axis rotation.
In the darkest corner, away from the fireplace and torches, there was a floor to ceiling giant spider web made of inch thick ropes. In the middle of the floor stood a device called a pedestal. This consisted of a pedestal topped by a padded surface shaped like the upper part of a woman’s back, from the waist to the shoulders inclusive. Telescoping arms pulled out from the five corners of the shape, adjustable in length to accommodate women of different sizes. The limb restraint arms each had fasteners at two points along the length, and were equipped respectively to immobilize fingers and toes. The fifth arm was to restrain the head and neck.
Four of these items had been custom built to my own designs. These were the wing chair, the vertical frame, the platform, and the bed.
I led the two women into this chamber and showed them the devices and their features. Then I sat on the edge of the bed, and ordered Diane to stand between my legs and undress.
The moment her head and upraised arms were entangled in her tight pullover, I began tickling her ribs on both sides with both hands. Diane burst into loud, startled laughter and couldn’t stop. It took her nearly five minutes to finish getting the pullover off. I noticed a wicked grin on Alice’s face.
I kept tickling any exposed flesh as Diane removed one garment after another. It took her a total of half an hour to get naked with the constant ticklish distractions. By that time, her nipples were fully engorged and her labia getting there. Diane looked distinctly embarrassed. There was definitely an evil glint in Alice’s eye. I decided to take Alice down a peg or two.
I sent Diane to sit in the wing chair and told Alice to stand where Diane had been. I pinned Alice’s legs in place against the bed by hooking my ankles behind hers. I told her to raise her hands high, then i pulled her loose sweater partway off and looped the flapping ends of the sleeves around her arms.
I told Alice to get the sweater the rest of the way off, and at once started tickling her sides and her underarms. Alice was very slightly less ticklish on her upper body than Diane, but I had put her in a harder situation to get out of. It took Alice fifteen minutes of laughing and squirming to get that sweater off, twenty-five more to get everything else off.
By that time, Alice’s body was clearly begging for sexual attention, as she gasped for breath. Alice looked suitably chastened. Diane was openly smirking. It seemed that neither woman had realized how ticklish the other was. I foresaw a change in the relationship between them in the near future. I decided to encourage that change, just to be evil.
I led Diane to the pedestal. I fastened each of Diane’s legs at two points; just above the ankle, and just below the bulge of the calf. I fastened each arm at the wrist and just above the elbow. I angled the head restraint so that Diane’s eyes were directed at the point where the wall behind her head met the ceiling. I fastened each finger in a padded strap, and each toe in a three quarters clamp. I adjusted the pedestal height to the level of my own crotch when standing, then pulled up a chair and sat down to Diane’s right. We were ready to go.
I surprised her by tickling the palms of her hands first. She looked really shocked when that made her start giggling. I kept that up for a few minutes. Diane’s nipples, which had subsided while I teased Alice, were starting to rise again. Once again, Diane looked very embarrassed.
I slowly tickled my way down Diane’s arms to her shoulders, and then let my hands wander onto her neck. That really made her start struggling, and she started laughing instead of just giggling. I spent awhile enjoying the vulnerability of Diane’s shapely neck, the soft curve of her throat, the extremely soft and sensitive flesh under her chin.
When I leaned in and started to tickle her ears with my tongue, Diane screamed. She laughed wildly and begged me to stop. Of course, I didn’t. I just kept on going from one ear to the other and back again.
When I moved down to play with Diane’s luscious belly and groin, she began uncontrollably wiggling while she laughed. Using my tongue on her bellybutton made her scream and beg again. I was amused to see the growing evidence of Diane's involuntary arousal. A quick look showed that Alice was also becoming aroused as she watched her mistress getting dominated and turned on by a male tickler.
My next tickling stop was Diane’s glorious ass. It was so hot. I found out that tickling her there drove her crazy with twitching and wriggling and incessant giggles. It also got to her sexually, as her turn began to escape from rational control.
I found Diane’s legs extremely attractive in their long, lean, shapely muscularity. I moved the chair down and spent the next hour or so tickling them. With her legs in the two point restraints, Diane’s knees couldn’t bend. In fact, the only real movement available to her was to lift her hips up about four inches or force them down about an inch.
I began with curves of her calf muscles, tickling with feather light strokes of my fingertips. When I saw Diane reacting helplessly to that, I moved on to tickle the hollows behind her knees. I loved the feel of the tendons there tensing, straining, finally giving up in fatigue and relaxing for a few moments before starting again on a futile attempt to escape from the maddening tickle.
The sweet, wicked tease kept Diane helplessly giggling most of the time. During those moments when Diane’s straining tendons relaxed in fatigue, the tickling intensified and made her laugh out loud. Those times also increased her arousal dramatically. When I noticed those intervals of defenselessness getting longer and closer together, I moved on to tickle her beautiful thighs.
I knew that If I kept tickling the knee hollows, growing fatigue might actually damage the muscles, and that was the last thing I wanted. When I began working over her thighs, at first she held perfectly still, the only signs that I was getting to her were the steady increase in size of her nipples and labia, the growing moisture at the mouth of her sex.
I began with the tops of her thighs, then moved around to the outer sides and on to the backs of those delightful thighs. All this time, Diane kept giggling getting hornier and holding still. I could see what a strain that was getting to be for her. Then I began softly running my fingertips up and down the deep crease along each inner thigh where one muscle slid over the other, and she lost it!
She let out a peal of sweet, desperate laughter that went on for longer than seemed possible. Her hips bucked as far up as they could in her bondage and stayed there. Her gorgeous legs started to quiver helplessly, then the arch she was holding collapsed and she simply guffawed and squirmed for the next half hour while my hands wandered all over those soft, tender inner thighs.
I watched her relax when I stopped, and reveled in the imploring look in her eyes. I loved how that look turned to helpless reproach when I started to tickle her feet. The pale pink shade of the bottoms contrasting with the tan of the tops was really pretty. Her frantic, futile attempts to wiggle and to curl the toe over were exciting to watch. But the sound of her laughter! The sweet, warm, throaty, sexy sound of her helpless, despairing laughter was wonderful.
I loved the feel of the smooth, tight stretched skin of her soles as my hands wandered over them. Diane was recently pedicured. I explored the softness her heels, the roundness of the greater and lesser balls of her feet. I teased the tiny valley in between the two. I slowly strummed the flats of her soles. I delicately played with the pads of Diane’s trapped, immobilized toes.
I wriggled four fingers of each hand into the insanely sensitive spaces between Diane’s toes. When I placed the tips of my fingers right on the tips of her toes and began softly moving them in tiny circles, poor Diane just went ballistic.
She screamed and she screamed and she begged me to stop. After three or four minutes I did, while Diane lay there gasping. Her arousal was as extreme as I had ever seen. Then I began slowly strumming her sweetly curved, deep, exquisitely sensitive arches.
It was swiftly clear that this was her most ticklish place. Every atom of strength in her athletic body seemed to be focused on laughing as hard, as loudly and as out of control wildly as possible. Her hips kept involuntarily jerking up and then down to the greatest extent that she could in her bonds. As I switched from the strumming strokes to the spiderdance technique, I Diane’s torment increase, and the stark disbelief on her face.
After several minutes of this I could see Diane struggling to get out some words in between peals of laughter. When she finally did, I was very surprised at what they were. Instead of the curses or pleas I expected, Diane gasped out; “Fuck me you big hunky bastard!” And went back to helplessly laughing again.
I leaned in to work on her labia and clit with my mouth while I kept right on tickling her feet. She didn’t know how to respond to that; both her mind and her body were deeply confused as she wavered between pleasure and agony. Then Diane came, and her body’s enjoyment took over. The smile on her face became less of a rictus and more an expression of enjoyment.
A few seconds later she suddenly found herself twice as ticklish as before, the result of her orgasm. In spite of the sudden increase in her ticklish suffering Diane soon came again, and then a third time and a fourth. Each time, I carefully noted the physical signs that she was about to climax, and when she was about to get off for the fifth time I drew back. I also stopped tickling.
While Diane gasped for breath, still unable to stop smiling, I asked if she still wanted me to fuck her. Now, I had deliberately rigged her response by waiting until she was right on the brink of cumming again to stop the stimulation and ask that question. Of course, she said yes. In great, highly obscene detail. Among other things, she expressed the hope that my male member was as big as the rest of me. In far blunter language. I told her it isn’t that long but it’s real thick. She said that was better than long.
I was busy disrobing. When she saw the item in question, she said it would do fine. During the discussion over drinks by the fireplace in the living room, we had determined that we could all safely do without condoms, with no risk of disease or pregnancy, so we did.
Diane didn’t see me gesture Alice over, signal her to silence, gesture her into the chair, and gesture to her to keep out of Diane’s restricted line of sight. Then I pointed at Alice’s hands and Diane’s helpless feet, and I mouthed; “When I say start, start. When I say stop, stop.”
Alice nodded silently. The expression on her face could only be described as unholy glee.
I was fully erect from the effects of having tickle tortured this lovely, defenseless women. I slowly and teasingly walked forward and entered her, feeling the inner sides of her luscious thighs eagerly tensing against the outer sides of mine. When I reached full insertion Diane shouted; “YES!” I quietly said; “Alice, start!”
At the first touch of Alice’s nails on her soles, poor Diane had time for one despairing NO before she was totally consumed with laughter again. I stood there and teased the backs of Diane’s thighs and I very soon felt her fifth powerful orgasm.
That’s when I reached out to tickle her ribs. For the first time in her ordeal, tears began leaking from Diane’s tightly closed eyes, but she came for the sixth time. I then moved my hands to her flanks, where they spider walked up and down those ticklish expanses.
I could feel Diane’s whole body shudder in tormented ecstasy as she came for the seventh time that night. Now I walked my fingers up into her armpits. This gave the same kind of enticing feel as the backs of her knees, because tendons were very close to the skin. I could feel them tense and squirm under the tickling touches of my fingers.
I switched to a continuous stroking in swirls at a medium speed, wanting to feel the continuous contact. Apparently that also tickled more, as her involuntary reactions showed. Then Diane came for the eighth time that night, and I moved my tickling hands to her beautiful breasts.
When my fingertips played with the undersides of her breasts, Diane’s eyes shot wide open. Her tears streamed like rivers. Her laughter poured out like an auditory Niagara Falls. When she came for the ninth time I leaned down to nibble and lick Diane’s nipples. I could see that she tried to nod yes, that she liked that, and then I felt what I’d been waiting for.
I felt Diane’s tenth helpless, laughing orgasm begin before the ninth one had ended! This was a state of continuous orgasm. Soon I could feel her eleventh, twelfth and more. Each one started before the previous one was finished. Diane’s lovely face was suffused with intense, joyful agony.
I pressed the button to lower the pedestal all the way down to the floor. I could tell by Diane’s unbroken laughter that Alice was quick enough on the uptake to never have lost contact with Diane’s ticklish feet. I lay forward, letting my weight rest on Diane in a missionary position as the floor came up under us both. For the first time I started to do my share of the work, stroking in and out. Meanwhile my hands moved to tickle Diane’s neck and throat.
Diane’s rictus smile began to actually look happy. I knew it. I had her enjoying her torture. The peaks of Diane’s continuous orgasm kept hitting closer and closer together, the peaks lasting longer as the intervals between them got shorter. When I started to use all ten fingers to tickle her under her chin, Diane’s eyes, which had closed again, once more shot open, and this time they seemed to bulge out of her head.
Suddenly, Diane’s laugh took on a liquid, trilling note. Later she said that tickling was still just as unbearable, but she was enjoying it anyway, and didn’t understand it at all. Then I kissed her for the first time since I had bound her.
Diane’s body responded to that deep, warm kiss with a flood of pleasure that lifted her above the torture of the tickling. It took her to a place where torture, pleasure and joy were all one. I felt the muscles surrounding me inside of her start to contract rhythmically, and I had what was then the most powerful, thunderous orgasm I had ever experienced.
Diane matched it with what I call a second stage orgasm; fully an order of magnitude bigger and better than any she had ever had before. I shouted the order for Alice to stop, and she did. I ordered Alice to go to bed in the guest bedroom.
I knew Diane was about to act like a sub who, at least for the moment, was deeply in love with her dom. There was no need for her sub to see her sincerely thanking me for torturing her so unmercifully. I’m not into humiliating my subs unless they’re being punished for something that really made me angry. Never as a part of play.
When I hit the button that released all the bonds holding Diane, the first thing she did was to wrap her legs around my hips, cross her ankles and squeeze me tightly into her. A few seconds later she was enthusiastically kissing any part of me that was within reach of her mouth.
I dried us both off as I pulled out of her, with a soft, dry towel I had left near the pedestal before starting. I lifted Diane in my arms and carried her into my bedroom. I turned back the sheet while easily holding her with one arm, then slid her under the top sheet and slid in beside her. We cuddled a little.
Just before going to sleep, with her head on my chest, Diane looked up at me. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears. Tremulously, she asked; “Mitch, are you trying to make me a sub?”
I answered; “No, darlin’. Just a switchable.”
Diane smiled; “Oh. Okay.”
The tears went away, still unshed. Then she murmured; “Goodnight.........master.” and closed her eyes.
