Volsung1
1st Level Red Feather
- Joined
- Jul 18, 2008
- Messages
- 1,104
- Points
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It’s like… Magic.
magic
noun - the power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.
a quality that makes something seem removed from everyday life, especially in a way that gives delight.
informal - something that has a delightfully unusual quality.
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Actually, I’m half surprised that you put yourself in this position…
You must want it… on some psychological level at least. Perhaps you didn’t get enough as a small child or something. I am flattered that you are this trusting of me… that you would freely expose to me your most sensitive areas of your body like this. Yes, the bondage is for my own protection… mostly. I trust that you aren’t too cold. Does this confinement excite you? I must confess, it does something for me, seeing you like this… spread-eagle… naked… helpless and unable to move out of your confinement. There is of course, no turning back now. “Comfy?” I add.
I look down at you and watch as you test your limited mobility. You look up at me with a slightly pleading look in your eyes.
“You aren’t gonna… tickle me, are ya?”
I smile down at you.
“Now why would I want to do that to you? It’s not like I haven’t heard you laugh in a while now, has it?”
A puzzled look wipes over your face and you roll your lips in. Aw… so cute.
“No wait… I haven’t, as a matter of fact.”
I wave my wiggling fingertips towards your trapped body. You giggle for just an instant, then clear your throat with a dismissive inflection.
“For my first magic trick… I will cause this volunteer to… laugh.”
You laugh at my clever delivery.
“Not yet, not yet!” I am practically hopping up and down in place.
Then I put my chin in my palm and roll my eyes upwards.
“Jack Benny” you quip.
“Uh yeah, sure… anyway. I’m sure you’re not ticklish, are you…”
You nod in agreement.
“No… Of course not.”
I fold my arms and look down at you, disapprovingly.
“You WILL laugh for me… you have no choice.”
You turn your head and close your eyes. “No, I won’t… and you can’t make me!”
I climb up on the table and straddle your nude body.
“Oh yes, you’ll laugh for me all right. Besides, I know the magic words.”
My weight presses you deeper into the cushioned table as I bend down to whisper in your ear. I can feel your panic rising, as your breath catches in your lungs. My gentle breath of air buzzes in your ear and carries with it, the word that guarantees your downfall:
“… tickle, tickle… tickle.”
I lightly press in with my fingertips, feeling along your sides. You giggle and squirm.
“There we go… That’s right… don’t hold it in. Laugh for me…”
You thrash about, trying to get away from my ticklish invasion. I move my hands up your sides and into your arm pits. My fingertips gently knead your muscles back and forth. You laugh freely… like a run-on sentence. It is like music to my ears. You have such a wonderful laugh, and I must confess that the sound of it is making me horny. I can’t stop… tickling you.
“It must be nice… to be able to release all that pent-up frustration, that a way.” I remark. I can just barely make myself heard over your convulsive laughter. You can do nothing but laugh as a matter of fact, but this doesn’t keep me from commenting anyway. This goes on for quite a while… I shift my tickle position slightly, when you seem to acclimate. Your face is getting quite red, you know… kinda flushed.
“Aw… does it tickle too much?” How about here?”
I move down lower on your body and catch sight of your naked feet, hanging just off the table. I work my way down, slowly… noting ticklish areas as I make my way down; over your chest, over your taught stomach, across your hips, along your inner thighs, down to your bare feet. Each area triggers a new ticklish sensation and I linger for a bit in each area before I move on. Finally, I wiggle my index finger in-between your clenched toes.
“Now you wouldn’t happen to be ticklish here, would you?”
I take my time here and slowly finger around the bottom of your foot, just below the ball. You laugh with renewed vigor, quite hysterically. I could tickle you here all day.
“You know what might be fun?” I am now moving my index finger slowly up and down the entire length of your bare sole. Your toes involuntarily clench and release as I do this. I know you are laughing just about as hard as you can right now. Of course, this doesn’t stop me as I begin to fan out my fingertips, moving them randomly up and down your soles. Caressing your smooth, ticklish skin with my nimble fingertips. Scratching lightly… here and there.
“How about I GIVE you a tickle fetish? Would you like that?”
You look down at me, laughing through moist eyes… blinking.
I work back over your toes… over the tops. Up your leg, tickling the back. Tickling towards your inner thigh.
“For that… we are gonna need a special tool.”
I pick up a small feather. Relatively narrow, but with a fine tip at the top. I begin to gingerly stroke your “private part” with the feather… You are still laughing from the finger tickling though. The feather keeps in constant contact with your private part… the tickle torment is unrelenting… slowing tickling… back and forth. Your laughter turns panicky in a different way as you begin to feel the sexual tension building up within you… building with each pass of the devilish feather. Tickling… Teasing… coaxing your private into erection… it’s pushing against the feather. The feather that won’t stop tickling you until you orgasm. You are now moaning and laughing… a person torn in-between two kinds of pleasure. It’s throbbing…begging for blissful release. It tickles SO bad! You moan loudly, with great anxiety. It is a force that unstoppable.
“OH MY GOD!”
The feather is suddenly drenched with the release of your pleasure… a few more waves over your spent private part and you are now fully endowed with a tickle fetish.
It’s like… Magic.
magic
noun - the power of apparently influencing the course of events by using mysterious or supernatural forces.
a quality that makes something seem removed from everyday life, especially in a way that gives delight.
informal - something that has a delightfully unusual quality.
--------------
Actually, I’m half surprised that you put yourself in this position…
You must want it… on some psychological level at least. Perhaps you didn’t get enough as a small child or something. I am flattered that you are this trusting of me… that you would freely expose to me your most sensitive areas of your body like this. Yes, the bondage is for my own protection… mostly. I trust that you aren’t too cold. Does this confinement excite you? I must confess, it does something for me, seeing you like this… spread-eagle… naked… helpless and unable to move out of your confinement. There is of course, no turning back now. “Comfy?” I add.
I look down at you and watch as you test your limited mobility. You look up at me with a slightly pleading look in your eyes.
“You aren’t gonna… tickle me, are ya?”
I smile down at you.
“Now why would I want to do that to you? It’s not like I haven’t heard you laugh in a while now, has it?”
A puzzled look wipes over your face and you roll your lips in. Aw… so cute.
“No wait… I haven’t, as a matter of fact.”
I wave my wiggling fingertips towards your trapped body. You giggle for just an instant, then clear your throat with a dismissive inflection.
“For my first magic trick… I will cause this volunteer to… laugh.”
You laugh at my clever delivery.
“Not yet, not yet!” I am practically hopping up and down in place.
Then I put my chin in my palm and roll my eyes upwards.
“Jack Benny” you quip.
“Uh yeah, sure… anyway. I’m sure you’re not ticklish, are you…”
You nod in agreement.
“No… Of course not.”
I fold my arms and look down at you, disapprovingly.
“You WILL laugh for me… you have no choice.”
You turn your head and close your eyes. “No, I won’t… and you can’t make me!”
I climb up on the table and straddle your nude body.
“Oh yes, you’ll laugh for me all right. Besides, I know the magic words.”
My weight presses you deeper into the cushioned table as I bend down to whisper in your ear. I can feel your panic rising, as your breath catches in your lungs. My gentle breath of air buzzes in your ear and carries with it, the word that guarantees your downfall:
“… tickle, tickle… tickle.”
I lightly press in with my fingertips, feeling along your sides. You giggle and squirm.
“There we go… That’s right… don’t hold it in. Laugh for me…”
You thrash about, trying to get away from my ticklish invasion. I move my hands up your sides and into your arm pits. My fingertips gently knead your muscles back and forth. You laugh freely… like a run-on sentence. It is like music to my ears. You have such a wonderful laugh, and I must confess that the sound of it is making me horny. I can’t stop… tickling you.
“It must be nice… to be able to release all that pent-up frustration, that a way.” I remark. I can just barely make myself heard over your convulsive laughter. You can do nothing but laugh as a matter of fact, but this doesn’t keep me from commenting anyway. This goes on for quite a while… I shift my tickle position slightly, when you seem to acclimate. Your face is getting quite red, you know… kinda flushed.
“Aw… does it tickle too much?” How about here?”
I move down lower on your body and catch sight of your naked feet, hanging just off the table. I work my way down, slowly… noting ticklish areas as I make my way down; over your chest, over your taught stomach, across your hips, along your inner thighs, down to your bare feet. Each area triggers a new ticklish sensation and I linger for a bit in each area before I move on. Finally, I wiggle my index finger in-between your clenched toes.
“Now you wouldn’t happen to be ticklish here, would you?”
I take my time here and slowly finger around the bottom of your foot, just below the ball. You laugh with renewed vigor, quite hysterically. I could tickle you here all day.
“You know what might be fun?” I am now moving my index finger slowly up and down the entire length of your bare sole. Your toes involuntarily clench and release as I do this. I know you are laughing just about as hard as you can right now. Of course, this doesn’t stop me as I begin to fan out my fingertips, moving them randomly up and down your soles. Caressing your smooth, ticklish skin with my nimble fingertips. Scratching lightly… here and there.
“How about I GIVE you a tickle fetish? Would you like that?”
You look down at me, laughing through moist eyes… blinking.
I work back over your toes… over the tops. Up your leg, tickling the back. Tickling towards your inner thigh.
“For that… we are gonna need a special tool.”
I pick up a small feather. Relatively narrow, but with a fine tip at the top. I begin to gingerly stroke your “private part” with the feather… You are still laughing from the finger tickling though. The feather keeps in constant contact with your private part… the tickle torment is unrelenting… slowing tickling… back and forth. Your laughter turns panicky in a different way as you begin to feel the sexual tension building up within you… building with each pass of the devilish feather. Tickling… Teasing… coaxing your private into erection… it’s pushing against the feather. The feather that won’t stop tickling you until you orgasm. You are now moaning and laughing… a person torn in-between two kinds of pleasure. It’s throbbing…begging for blissful release. It tickles SO bad! You moan loudly, with great anxiety. It is a force that unstoppable.
“OH MY GOD!”
The feather is suddenly drenched with the release of your pleasure… a few more waves over your spent private part and you are now fully endowed with a tickle fetish.
It’s like… Magic.
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