Well, there I was, in my favorite bar. Sitting there minding my own business drinking a beer. When she walked in. Tabitha Black, the hottest model in the tickling fetish business. I watched as her lovely body walked over to the bar and ordered a beer, turning several heads as she did so.
Hmm…Perhaps I should explain a bit about myself before I go any further. You see, I’m one of those few Canadians who have what one might call a ‘tickling’ fetish. I know, it sounds weird, but that’s what I like. Sue me. Oh, by the way, I’m James, and I’m 21.
As it happens, I’m a huge fan of Tabitha, and have several of her video’s at home. She’s probably one of, if not the, biggest female tickler in the business right now. Mind you, she also makes a hot ticklee, although it’s only happened in two videos. She’s been in about twenty videos, which while isn’t tons as far as most mainstream fetishists go, but every video she’s done has been high quality.
Oh, I should also mention that she owns her own video company. It’s one of the biggest tickling fetish companies out there. It’s been in business for about four years now and dominates the tickling fetish market.
Anyway though, you can imagine my surprise at seeing her. I watched as she took the beer and opened it with ease, taking a long drink from it. Tabitha is 29 years old. Nice firm looking breasts, a well-toned belly, hell, everything on her is well toned. She has the slightest hint of muscularity, showing her physical superiority that she usually uses to tickle wrestle the other girls into submission with.
She’s also what you might call a Goth. She wear’s black lipstick, black nail polish, and has a ivory white complexion. She also has a long, raven black main of hair, with her bangs a bright white. All in all, she’s an imposing figure. Oh, did I mention she also stands 6’’ feet tall without heels?
Right now, she’s dressed in black heels, fishnet stockings, and a leather miniskirt, black of course, and a sleeveless top that show’s some of her pleasantly ample cleavage. Now, I know her look, her gothic style, is a turn-off to most of the people here. For me though, it only makes her more exotic looking.
I watch as she hands the Bartender a bill, and he gives her a rack full of pool balls. She then takes them and casually walks around back to the poolroom. I watch as she disappears into the room, her hips swaying just slightly. I stare after her for a few minutes, thinking to myself.
I’m hesitant, but I do know I want to talk to her. I’ll probably never have this chance again. Fortunately, I showered and shaved before I came here, so I’m looking well. I’m not an overly muscular guy, but I have an ok body. I’m not overweight, but I’m not overly defined either. I am about average. I’m also about average in looks. Mind you, unfortunately, I’m only about 5’6 in height, not very tall for a guy.
Now, by this time I had drunken about three beers, so that probably helped me get my courage up. I walked into the back room, just in time to see her slam the rack with the q-ball, sending pool balls everywhere and sinking the nine-ball. She then looked up and saw me looking at her. “Uh, hello.” Was all I could muster. I felt a slight blush rise to my cheeks and hoped she didn’t notice.
“Hello” She replied, in a friendly voice. Her eyes seemed to be scanning me over, absorbing everything around me. She looked at me for a minute before returning to the table and sinking a ball. Afterwards, she looked at me again. I hadn’t taken her eyes off her all this time and I bet she had noticed it.
I wasn’t really sure what to say to be honest. I had been collecting her video’s since I was 16, and now I had just turned 21 last month. I remember I even sent her a fan letter about two years ago. I had suggested she take the nickname “Black Rose” because she was so lovely and sinister at the same time. I had gotten a letter back, saying she had loved the name and that she wished him well. There had been a signed picture with a black lipstick kiss on it. She never did take on the nickname, but I still have the picture and letter.
“Are you here to play pool?” Tabitha asked, her words interrupting my thoughts. She was holding her pool cue and looking at me a little more curiously.
“Yeah.” I quickly said, unsure of what else to say. I couldn’t very well say, “Actually I’m just here to ogle you.”
“You don’t have the balls.” She said off handedly.
“What?” Her comment caught me by surprise.
“Pool balls. You don’t have any to play.” She said, although she gave me a wicked look, suggesting that she had enjoyed making squirm under her gaze. She paused. “Tell me, are you any good?”
“I’m alright.” I assume she means am I good at playing pool.
“Alright then. You can take striped balls.” Tabitha leaned over and was about to shoot, then stopped. She then looked up at me, although the rest of her body held in the position to shoot. “That is, if you want to play with me.” She didn’t look away from me as she shot and sent another ball into the side pocket.
“I would love to.” I replied as coolly as I could. I walked over to the wall and found a pool cue about the right size. Tabitha sank about three more balls before she finally missed.
“Well, your up.” Tabitha said, sitting down on one of the stools and watching me intently, taking a sip from her beer.
I calmly walked over to the pool table and lined up the balls. After a second, I drilled the q-ball. Now, I’m not a great pool player, but I have what you might call a special skill. The more I play the better I get, and I get better quick. This shot was more of a fluke then anything. Not only did I sink the ball I was aiming for, I managed to get a second ball with the rebound from the Q-ball. I heard Tabitha give an approving whistle from behind me.
“Nice shot.” She commented. She took another drink from her beer. “So, are you a local boy?”
“Yeah. Lived here all my life.” I said, lining up another shot and sinking another ball.
“Hmmm…I thought you people would be scared of me.” She said offhandedly.
“You people?” I repeated, looking around at her. “Ya’ll mean us country folk?” My voice was half-serious. I admit, I do live in what some call a quaint little resort area, far away from cities and big communities, but to me it’s still home, and I’ve never liked it when somebody talked poorly about it, or the people.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Tabitha said, sincerity in her voice. “Just, as you can see, I don’t exactly blend in most places. That’s the reason why I go to small quite places. So I don’t have to deal with all the staring. I can just relax and be myself.” She gave a little shrug. “Last time I went to a small resort like this, I was almost burnet at the stake for being a witch.” She gave a little laugh at that.
“Well, that won’t happen here.” I said, although I made sure my voice was friendly.
“Oh?” She got up and stood across from me, leaning forward on her hands and giving me a pleasant view of her cleavage, although I made sure to keep looking her in the eyes. Even though I knew she was flirting with me, I have found that woman prefer the focus to be kept on there face, instead of there breasts. “Are you going to be my protector?”
“Well, I don’t think you’re the type of woman to need swarms of men jumping to her defense, but if you needed my help, I would offer it.” From the look on her face, I’d say my answer impressed her. Just then a waitress came in.
“You two need anything?” She asked, her eyes staring at me, and then staying locked on Gloria. The look on her face said just how much she liked Tabitha’s appearance.
“Two more beers.” Tabitha said, before she turned her back on the waitress and looked over the pool table. The waitress stood there for a moment before she walked out of the poolroom.
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Tabitha said, indicating with a thumb in the directing the Waitress came in.
“Well, you do have to admit you do dress a little different then the average person.” I said. I knew the waitress, and she wasn’t a bad person.
“Ah, but I’m not the average person. I’m me, and I don’t intend to be anybody less then me.” Gloria looked at me evenly. “What do you think of my appearance?”
“I like it,” I returned in a friendly manner. “You remind me of a Black Rose.”
Tabitha’s head cocked slightly to the left, a small smile on her face. “Now, where did you come up with a name like that?”
*****************************************
“Ohh….” I groaned. My eyes slowly fluttered as I slowly woke up. There were three things I realized very quickly when I woke up. The first was that I wasn’t in my own bed. I could tell that from the color of the ceiling alone. The Second would be that as I began to get up, I found myself tied to the bed spread eagle. And the third and final thing I realized was that I was naked under the covers.
“Well, good morning.” Came a familiar voice.
I looked over to find Tabitha sitting in a chair, facing me with a warm smile on her face. She stood up and came to sit on the bed beside me. I couldn’t believe what she was wearing. She was in her bra and panties, and her black fishnet stockings. She also seemed to be wearing high heels. All of this was black, of course, and made a lovely contradiction to her ivory white skin. “How you feeling?”
“Um…a little tied up.” I reply giving my restraints a little tug. She let out a small laugh at that.
“hehe, yes, you certainly are.” Tabitha reached down and began gently tickling around my neck and chest. I immediately broke out into giggles and squirmed around.
“Kitchy kitchy James.” Tabitha teased. Lightly tickling for another minute or so before she stopped.
I gasped some air for a minute before recovering. “What happened? Did we sleep together or something?”
“Nope.” Tabitha said, placing her two fingers on my chest. She then began a ticklish little walk down my torso, pulling the covers with them as she went. “But, however, we did have a lot of fun last night, that resulted in one of us loosing there clothing.” She her fingers had walked down my torso I began to laugh. She stopped her fingers just before where my pubic hair was beginning. “And do you know which one of us it was?” She gave me a devilish grin.
“Me, I’m guessing.” I said, once my laughter had subsided. I’m super ticklish, and I think she figured that out. “What exactly happened last night?”
“Don’t really remember huh?” She asked, giving me that evil smile I’ve seen on so many videos just before she pounces on her victims. “Well, after you made that comment about me being a “Black Rose” I remembered I had gotten a piece of fan mail with that name on it. Also, it came from this area. As the two of us kept drinking, I brought up about how I was ticklish when you accidentally brushed against me.”
“After that, and a few more beer, we talked about tickle wrestling, when we were kids. And, I somehow managed to talk you into a round.” Tabitha laughed, smiling at me playfully. “That was fun, we wrestled in my living room for a bit, then I pinned you down and gave you a good rib tickling.”
“So, then how did I get naked?” I asked, still giving a little more struggle. It was no good though; these ropes were tight, and firm.
“Well, you suggested we have strip tickling matches. You were pretty drunk by that time. So, basically we kept tickle wrestling, and every time a person said uncle, they lost a piece of clothing. You got me down to my garters, stockings, panties and braw, which I admit surprised me.” Tabitha then reached down and began goosing my hips causing me to laugh out loud.
“Ahahahahahahahahstop!” I cried out laughing my head off. She did after a minute or two, leaving me a giggling mess.
“Course I got you naked. So which means I won the match, and got to check you out.” She winked at me. “Also means I got to tickle wrestle with you naked. I pretty much pumped ever bit of information out of you I wanted.”
“What information?” I asked, no doubt sounding a bit worried.
She smiled at me again and this time began skittering her fingers up and down my ribs teasingly. I tried not to laugh but after a minute I was laughing my head off. “Why, about how you bought my videos illegally when you were younger, using a fake name and sending cash, you naughty boy. How you’re my biggest fan, and how you love tickling.” She withdrew her long black nails again, grinning down at me, enjoying her little game no doubt. She let me get my breath again, allowing me to speak.
“O-ok, that explains why I’m naked, but what about being tied to the bed?” I was more then a little worried when I asked this question. Even though Tabitha seemed like a nice woman, although perhaps with a different fashion sense, I knew her for what she really was. A tickle Sadist. And here I was, a young, extremely ticklish man, bound naked to her bed, in the middle of cottage country where nobody would be around for miles.
“You really don’t remember anything from last night, do you?” She ran her hand across my cheek, and I admit, that right there would have given me a hard on alone, if I didn’t already have one from her closeness and her choice of clothing. I hope she didn’t notice. For some, this would have been a very scary situation, and I admit it was a bit scary for me also, but, being the tickling fetishist I am, it was also very exciting, and the more she tickled and teased and flirted with me, the more excited I got.
“What else happened last night?” I wondered out loud.
“Well, we made a bet. The first to be naked would have to let the other person tickle them for the rest of the day as much as the tickler likes.” She then leaned forward, her face only inches from mine. I could feel her heaving breasts lightly pressed to my chest. “Do you like that?” She whispered. “Does the thought of being at the mercy of a sadistic, cruel tickler, the one you’ve dreamed of since you were 16, excite you?” She then leaned back and pulled the blanket of from around my waist. “Mm…well apparently it does.” She gave me a wicked grin while I squirmed, my face crimson red. She loved this, I could tell, and in a way, I loved it also.
“I’m going to tickle you all day.” She taunted. “I’m going to let my experienced fingers probe every bit of your body, tickling relentlessly. See, I love to tickle people. I’d do it all day every day if I had the choice. Unfortunately, that’s not the case though.” She sighed. “You see, I’m what you might call a true tickling torture purest. I don’t like to just tickle a person for an hour or two with breaks, then let them go. I want to tickle people till there screaming bloody mercy. Until there willing to do or say anything to be let go. Because of that desire, I very rarely get to tickle anybody like that. I know a few people, but I rarely get to tickle people to that extent.” She then turned her eyes to mine, looking up at me with that wicked smile on her face that turned me on so much on her face.
“But you, I own this ticklish little body of yours for the rest of the day, and I plan on giving it the work out of its life.” She licked her lips, as if savoring the taste of my fear. “Now, where do you think I should start?” Her eyes ran up and down my body again. “Well, I think I know at least one body part that wants my attentions obviously.” I watched as she reached over and gently runs the tip of her finger along the base of my erect shaft, sending a pleasant tremble through my body. “I’ll make sure that gets a bit of attention, but later.” She winked at me.
“For now though, I’ll think I’ll have a side order of ribs.” She said before I felt her fingers skittering along my ribs.
Now, I tried but in a matter of minutes I was reduced to laughter. Her skilled fingers mapped my ribs, finding spots that I didn’t even know I had, mentally marking them, then further exploring, then eventually returning to the spots that got the best reactions. “AHAHAHHAAHAPLEASE STOP!!” I cried out frantically, pulling at my ropes.
“Nope, I’m definitely not stopping.” I heard her say in reply; before I felt her fingers dig in a little deeper. That was enough to drive me crazy, bouncing up and down on the bed. I then felt as she straddled me. “Can’t have you bucking around all over the place.”
Her fingers tickled up my ribs until they reached my armpits. She tickled there for a moment before she decided to move on. My guess was she didn’t like the armpit hair, which made me less responsive. She was soon scrabbling down my sides again, much to my protests, until she came around to my stomach.
Now, I don’t have a lot of fat on my stomach, not much at all. I don’t have a six-pack, but there’s not much meat there either, so you can imagine how I jumped when she began to lightly glide her long, pointed, black nails over my abs. She tickled it like mad, swirling her fingers in never ending random patterns, occasionally letting a nail slide into my belly button to drive me insane, then sliding it out just as quickly. “AAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHHEHESTOP PLEASE!!!” I cried out frantically.
“That’s it, let me hear you beg!” She said sadistically, tickling faster though I don’t know how. We seemed to stay like this for eternity. Her tickling me and me begging and laughing. Finally I felt a darkness approaching, one that would mercifully end my suffering. But, at the last moment…
“Uh, uh.” I heard a voice say, as the darkness began to leave me and I was cast out into the horrid light once again. “I’m not letting you get away that easy.” Tabitha said, stopping her tickling and letting me suck in as much air as I could. I saw her leaning over me, reaching to her right, and finding what looked like a feather of some type.
“I got a few toys while you were asleep.” She said, smiling at me. I watch as she slowly lowers the feather to my left nipple.
I begin to squirm and giggle, the erotic and ticklish touch of the feather was maddening, but not enough to send me into frenzied laughter. Of course, she knows this. Even during my breaks, I find no peace, as she tickles my sensitive nipples till there erect and I’m a giggling mess. She takes turns with my nipples tickling one, then the other, taunting me all the time, then when she feels I’ve gained enough stamina back, she puts the feather down and begins her merciless onslaught of rib and navel tickling.
Finally, mercifully, it ends. By the time she gets off me, I’m covered in sweat and more then a little exhausted. I look over at the clock on the nightstand beside me, and see that it’s 1:00 PM. She has been tickling me since 10:00 AM. Only three hours have passed. God, it felt like so many more.
“That was lot’s of fun.” I hear her say, my eyes being drawn back to her. She picks up a towel and begins to wipe my body down. She uses a damp cloth for my face, and lets me take a few drinks from a bottle of cold water. “I have something else I want you to try out.” She tells me.
“Oh, what’s this?” Tabitha says, looking at my wilted penis. “Not hard anymore? That won’t do.” I watch as she picks up the feather, then gently lay’s my penis, bottom side facing up, along her soft hand. “This should coax you back to life.” She says as she begins lightly tickling the underside of my exposed helmet.
I’ve never been tickle here before. Along my private area’s I mean. And let me tell you, it tickles a lot! I feel the feather running up and down my shaft, occasionally creeping a bit lower to tickle my defenseless testicles and cause spasm inducing fits of laughter. This continues only probably for a minute or two, but it has the desired effect, leaving me hard as rock.
“Mm…much better.” Tabitha purrs, smiling down at her handy work and giving me a few good strokes with her hand for good measure before getting up. “I do love it to have my men like this when they’re around me.” She then walks over to a dresser o the other side of the room and returns with what looks like some fishing string. She then does something I hadn’t expected.
“Now, we’ll just tie you up nice and tight, so you don’t give me any trouble when I take you down to the basement.” She says, making a loop around my balls with the string, then a second loop around the base of my cock, tying it off. She doesn’t tie it too tight, but tight enough that I can definitely feel it. “How’s that?” She asks, the back of her left index finger gently brushing the underside of my shaft right below the helmet. She watched it twitch in response, her eyes filled with sadistic delight.
“Now, it’s not that I don’t trust you to come along peacefully.” Tabitha said as she wrapped the other end of the fishing line around her hand, only giving the string in between my cock and balls and her hand about a foot of slack. “But I’ve done this a few times and had people run off on me before. Funny, they’re less afraid of making it back to there home naked, then they are of me tickling them.” She winked at me. She then reached down around the side of the bed and brought out a pair of leather cuffs. She tossed them beside me.
“Now, I’m going to untie your hands, and I want you to put them behind you back and put those cuff’s on. Any funny business and I’ll give this string a good hard yank and trust me you don’t want that.” She warned, giving a small tug to give me an idea. She was right; I don’t want her to give that string a hard tug.
She reached up and begins to skillfully untie the rope around my right wrist with her free hand. It takes her a minute but she does it, then gets me to untie my other hand. When both hands are free she watches me carefully as I fasten my arms behind my back with the cuffs. Come to think of it, the fishing line is pretty useless. Even if I did make a break for it, my ankles are still tied to the bed and there’s no way I could reach them to untie them. If I caused problems she could just tickle my feet until I gave, so why the fishing line?
I didn’t have to wonder very long. Tabitha let a bit more slack go, then went to the end of the bed and untied my ankles. When my ankles were untied, she then told me to stand up. She let a little more slack in the line, but didn’t let go.
“Now, follow me.” Gloria instructed again. To my great embarrassment, I found her leading me around her house by the noose around my most private of spots. She literally had me by the balls. This was her intention all along. She makes sure that there’s enough slack that if I follow closely there is no serious tugging.
I follow her out of her room, and into the living room, and then from there, we stop so she can unlock the basement door. She turns to look at me and smiles fondly. “So, having fun yet?”
I don’t respond. I’m not sure how to really. At the moment I’m confused. Yes, I feel embarrassed and humiliated, about being walked around the room by the balls like a dog on a leash, but there’s a small part of me that is enjoying this. That finds it both exciting and exhilarating. I think she knows this, but I also think she knows I’m hesitant, and at least a little bit scared.
“Hey now,” She say’s, gently reaching down with her right hand and stroking my cheek. She gently raises my face so she can look me in the eyes. She gives me a reassuring smile, and I know I would be blushing like mad from that smile alone, even if I wasn’t in this particular situation. “I’m just going to take you downstairs, and I’ll get this thing off this big ol’cock of yours, ok?” She winks.
“O-ok.” I say hesitantly, turning away and blushing more. I know I don’t have a big penis, only average in size, but I like how she called it big. It makes me feel all warm and tingly.
I follow her down the stairs. I’m very careful to stay close but not too close. If either one of us was to fall down the stairs it would be disastrous, particularly for me. What I see in the basement though, is very surprising.
“Do you like?” Tabitha asks, indicating the strange chair with the matching wood stocks in front. The stocks are the type with four holes in it, two close together in the center, and two more spread apart. I’ve seen ton’s of these on video’s. They’re resting on a heavy wooden table so they are high enough to match the chair.
The chair is the more interesting device though. It looks like a padded, black leather like chair, but that’s about all it has in common with a normal chair. I can see there are belts attached to it, no doubt to hold the victim down. The front legs of the chair are attached to the rear legs of the chair by a piece of wood that runs in between the two and along the floor, making a solid square. This no doubt makes tipping the chair extremely difficult. There are also two very interesting design changes about this chair. One, is there seems to be a flat little diagonal piece of wood attached to the right arm of the chair. It looks like somebody attached a clipboard to it. The other major change is that the place where you sit isn’t like a normal chair. It’s like a padded toilet seat. I can’t help but wonder about why there are these changes although, more then likely there’s a good reason.
“Wow.” Is all I can say. Even though it is a bit weird, I can tell there was good craftsmanship here.
“I made this myself.” Tabitha say’s proudly.
“You made this?” I sound surprised no doubt and she catches that.
She reaches over and runs her fingers along the stocks. “I have few major love’s in my life. Carpentry is one of them. Not as much as tickling, but still high up there. I find it a relaxing hobby.”
“I like to make the bondage devices for my video’s, usually on my holidays. This one is going to be used in a tickling torture video where a busty redhead is going to get tickled until she signs over the deed to her land.” Tabitha laughs. She then turns to me smiling. “I think you would make a good test subject for this chair.”
Tabitha unlocks the stocks with one hand and opens them up. “Now, sit in the chair and put your feet in the furthest two holes. I want your legs to be nice and far apart so I can see that lovely cock of yours while I tickle your feet.” She say’s seductively, enjoying making me squirm and blush, reminding me again of how naked and utterly exposed I am.
I do as she says though, sitting and placing my feet in the stocks. The cuff’s binding my arms behind me forces me to lean forward uncomfortably. I feel the stocks close around my ankles. The stock holes are padded, so my feet are comfortable, but all I can really do is wiggle my toes. I hear the sound of the two bolt locks on either side of the stocks being moved into place, then the clicking of the padlock for good measure. The bolt locks make sure the stocks remain closed tight, while the pad lock makes sure that even if I somehow undid the bolt locks, I couldn’t escape.
“Now, I’m going to remove the cuff’s on your hands.” Tabitha said, coming around and reaching behind me. “Remember, I still have the fishing line in my hands. Also, if you give me any problems, I’ll just start tickling your feet non-stop for the next few hours or so, until you do what I say, then punish you.” She gives me a look that say’s both that she’s serious, and also that she would enjoy punishing me. I decide not to risk it and do as she says. I place my hands on the arms of the chair and she fastens them around the wrist with the belts attached to the chair. When satisfied that there tight, but not too tight, she then applies the final piece of bondage, a belt around my waist. “Comfy?” She asks playfully, although I know that if I were uncomfortable she’d probably accommodate my needs.
“Yeah.” I say, still feeling a little scared. The chair is pleasantly padded, and very comfortable. The seat is a little odd, and I can feel my balls hanging down since there is no bottom, but it’s still decently padded.
“Good. Now, let me take those off.” I watch as Tabitha steps over my legs and kneels down in front of my privates. “I bet you like having me in this position huh?” She teases, looking up at me and giving me a playful grin, like a cat toying with a mouse. She then concentrates on her work, untying the fishing line.
“You know, there are some people who really enjoy to be dominated.” Her voice is soft and pleasant. As she unties the line, I feel her hands occasionally brushing across my shaft or lightly stroking my scrotum. I watch as her hands skillfully work, her attention focused on my bound penis and balls. “Some people just want to give up all control and leave themselves in the mercy of another. A person that wants to give up all trust to a strong individual.” She looked up at me, removing the last bit of Fishing Line. “I think your one of those people. I used to be a Domme, and still am on occasion. I own my own dungeon you know. I’ve seen those types of people many times, and I think your one of them. I think, last night, as soon as you saw me, part of you wanted to end up like this. You know very well who I am, and how cruel a tickler I can be.”
“And because I think your one of those who’s always wanted to be dominated, I’m going to tickle torture you.” I feel her hands now, stroking me harder. My hips want to lift myself closer to her, but the belt stops me. “I’m going to tickle and tease and torment you beyond anything you’ve ever felt before. I’ll do this for hours, torture you until you find a true sense of euphoria that can only be achieved by being pushed to your furthest possible limits.” She looks me in the eyes, one hand making a firm circle around my shaft, the other tilting my head up so were face to face. “I shall totally, and utterly break you…” I feel her lips touch mine, her tongue, warm and wet, searching out mine. I kiss her back for a moment that lasts for an eternity. All the time we’re kissing, I feel her hand pumping up and down my shaft, increasing my pleasure tenfold. Finally she pulls back. “And when I’m done, you’ll love me for it.”
I’m speechless as she slowly pulls away, and positions herself in front of my feet, sitting herself down on a padded stool. She takes two leather slings and puts them around my big toes, then slowly turns a crank attached to the top of the stocks. The slings pull my toes back, making my feet nice and taught. The thongs are pleasant in the sense they don’t cut off any circulation to my big toes. When she’s satisfied, I watched as she takes her index finger and slowly traces her nail up along my right instep.
“AH!” I cried out, my body jumping in response as if I’d gotten an electric shock. My feet are very ticklish. I hadn’t been tickled on the feet since I was like eight, but it seemed they were still just as sensitive.
“Oh my!” Tabitha smiles. “Such ticklish soles. How’s this?” She drags one of her nails down the other arch, causing another jerking sensation to flow through me. “Oh, I can tell I’m going to like these feet.”
My feet are in good condition. I take good care of them so there nice and soft. They’re about a size 11, which is big for my size. I have high arches, and long, spaced toes. They are a ticklers dream, and incidentally will know doubt be part of my worst nightmare.
“Oh, and what about right along here?” Tabitha continued tracing the contours of my feet running her long black nails now along the sides of my feet. “And here? And here? And here? Oh, what about here? Can’t forget here.” She went about methodically exploring every inch of my feet with her nails. No part was untouched. She got my toes, the undersides and in between them, all along the arch and instep, along either side of my foot, the balls of my feet and several other areas I hadn’t even realized I had. I was hysteric by the time she stopped.
“I think I’m in love.” She teased. Obviously she had a thing for ticklish feet, and mine were extremely ticklish. I watched as she walked over to one of the corner’s of the room and brought back with her a suitcase in one hand, and a small coffee table in the other. He then set the coffee table down beside her stool, and placed the suitcase on top of it.
“Do you have any idea of what’s in here?” Tabitha asked.
“Um…” I’m hesitant to try and guess. “I’m not sure but I have a feeling I’m not going to like it.”
She laughs at this, and then pops open the suitcase. “See, sometimes I go to dungeons on my vacations, when the tickling bug bites. I like to use my own tools so, I bring some along.” I watch as she pulls out a long wispy feather. “Let’s see…” She say’s staring intently at my feet, gently running the feather up and down my left sole.
“hehhehehee.” The feather is too light and soft to really tickle, but it does send me into giggles, and makes me squirm. She then slides it in between my middle and second smallest toe. I Jump at that, and quickly squeeze my toes shut around the invading feather.
“Oh my, it seems you’ve trapped my feather.” Tabitha say’s giving the feather a little tug. I give a little jerk at that response but my toes still hold tight. She then pull’s an identical one out of her suitcase. She then does the same thing to my other foot, although this time she has to hold my toe’s open before she releases them and let’s them clamp down on the feather. She gives it a testing tug also, to see if there’s any give. She then does the same thing, again and again, placing a feather in between my toes, allowing me to trap each one, until all my toes have feathers in between them. She could pull the feathers out, and it would tickle me madly because of how tight my toes are around it, but it would also probably ruin the feathers.
“Well, it seems you’ve captured my feathers.” She puts her hands on her hips in a mock gesture of sternness. “Seems I’ll have to convince you to let them go…” I watch as she pulls out another feather, though this one is shorter, and stiffer then the last, ending in a very fine tip. She very slowly begins to run the tip of the feather up and down my insteps.
“Ah! Ah! Ah! Ahahahahahahha!” I begin laughing again. Now, I know a fair bit about the tickling community, and to have feet that are feather ticklish is a rare thing. Now, I’m not in hysterics, but it does tickle, no doubt about that. I see Tabitha’s eyes light up at my reaction. She probably knows better then I, how rare feather ticklishness is. She continues to switch between feet, giving one foot several strokes then giving the other foot several strokes. Before long I can’t keep my toes locked down anymore, they wiggle about with wild abandonment. This tickles even worse now! Now I have feathers tickling in between each of my toes, not to mention the one tickling my arches, which is soon joined by another so both my feet are now in this hell together. Now, I am in hysterics. “AHAHAHAAHAHAHA!”
This tickling lasts a long time, and seems like there will be no end to it. Finally I had an idea. “AHAHAHAHAHTAKE THEM!!” I cry out.
“Take what?” She asks, not even looking up, too focused on her feathering. “If you’re going to say clothing, I’ve already taken them.”
“AHAHAHAHATAKE THE FEATHERSSSSSEEEEEHEHEHHEH!”
“But I already have feathers.” Tabitha calmly said, smiling as she held up the feathers in her hands for my blurry eyes to see before she went back to her light feathering of my soles.
I knew she was playing with me, but there was little more that I could do then to play along back. “NOAHAAHAHATHE INBEHEHEEHEHEHEINBETWEEN MY TOES!!!” I cried out frantically.
“You want me to put them in between your toes?” She asked. I felt the feathers sweep the undersides of my toes and laughed even harder. “Oh, I can’t do that, it seems you already have feathers in there.” She then goes back to feathering my soles.
“TAKE THEHEHEHEHEHEHEH FEATHER’S OUTEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA FROM EHEHEHE INBEHEHEHEHEHTWEEENN MY TOES!!!” I finally manage to get out. By now I have tears of laughter in my eyes, and I bet my face is rather red also.
“Oh, so that’s what you want?” She say’s doing a perfectly well “Oh-it-finally-has-dawned-on-me” voice. She paused for a minute, as if she was considering the matter. “No, I actually like them where they are.” She said casually before she began feathering my feet again.
“PLEASEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!” I begged. After a minute she decided to stop.
“Alright, I’ll tell you what.” She said, looking at me seriously. “I’ll take those feathers out from in between your toes, but you can’t clamp down on them. You do, and you’ll ruin them. So the second you clamp your toes down, I go back to feathering your feet, and the feathers stay in there. Deal?”
I know it’s an almost hopeless deal. The Feathers are a good six inches in length, and she will no doubt pull them slowly, but what choice do I have. “Ok.” I finally agree. I brace myself.
“Here we go James…” Tabitha say’s slyly. She doesn’t pull my toes apart, but gently, and agonizingly slowly begins to pull one of the feathers out. She watches my toes intently, watching them tremble with effort.
I grit my teeth and make a face, trying my best not to laugh, and more importantly, not to close my toes. This goes on for a good five minutes. Some how, I manage not to close my toes around the feathers. Possibly because of the small breaks Tabitha gives as she puts the feathers back in their place inside the case.
“Well, you obviously have some will power.” Tabitha say’s smiling at me. “I like that. But I think it’s time I…tenderized you a bit…” She slowly takes an oval shaped hair comb out of her suitcase. This is one of those plastic combs, with a flat back and little plastic brush pieces that end in little knobs. I’ve seen these used before on tapes, and apparently they can tickle rather badly. But I don’t think she’s going to tickle me with it, at least not yet…
“Ow!” My fears are justified when I feel the back of the brush being slapped on the sole of my left foot. It’s doesn’t really hurt, at least not badly, but it does sting. I feel it come down again, making a slapping sound of flesh on plastic. “It hurts.” I protest.
“This is torture.” Tabitha replies simply, she gives my right sole a good “thwack” now. Followed by another. She then switches feet again. This continues until I’m making noises in pain. At first I had kept quiet, bearing it. Now though I grunt with each hit. She has increased the intensity, and it’s been maybe five to ten minutes now. Finally she stops, putting the brush down, but not away.
“Let’s see?” Tabitha says, gently running one of her nails down my Arch. I jump in response, letting out a small cry. I can’t believe how ticklish they’ve become. Tabitha seems satisfied with that and try’s the other, getting the same result. I watch as she pulls a small bottle of what can only be baby oil out of the case, and then rubs it on my left sole, causing occasional laughs as she does so. She then pulls out a small painting brush.
“AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHNOOOOOOO!!!” I cry out as the two pronged assault begins. I feel the plastic knobs of the brush running along my oiled left sole, while the paintbrush sweeps back and forth along my right instep and under my toes. I laugh hysterically this time, harder then I have ever. I laugh until I’m laughing silently. She doesn’t stop though. She keeps gently rubbing the hairbrush along my foot, sweeping the brush without mercy. The paintbrush keeps working my toes and in between them when it can without hesitation. I’m at the point where I think I’m going to pass out when she finally stops again.
“Oh…oh god…” I whimper, gasping in air. I feel her hands on my face, gently wiping away any tears and sweat with a small towel. She gently lift’s my face up so I’m looking at hers. She has a pleasant smile on her face, with just a touch of concern.
I watch as she takes a piece of handwritten paper and places it along the clipboard underneath my right hand. “This is a legal contract, stating that you shall work for me while I am here, and that you shall help me do various choirs around the house and such. During this time you shall be paid minimum wage and wear the outfit of my choice. Also, you shall give yourself to me to torture you at my will, whenever and wherever I choose. If you break any of these agreements, you shall be legally sued. Now, sighn.” She hands me a pen and looks at me expectantly.
I think about this for a moment. Really, I wouldn’t mind the job. I have a part time job, but not one that takes too long. It’s the outfit and the option of her being able to torture me anytime I want I dislike. Could I really go though this again? “What types of outfit’s?” I ask.
“Oh, School girl uniform, French maid stuff, you know.” She say’s seriously. She snap’s her finger. “Oh, I almost forgot! I’ll be back in a second. Don’t go anywhere.” She removes the piece of paper from the clip board, then head’s upstairs.
I sit there considering my options. I definitely don’t want to wear any of those costumes she suggested, but what choice do I have? Perhaps I can hold out till she decides to give up. That’s a faint hope. I doubt she would ever get tired of tickling somebody, and I bet she enjoys a challenge. It’s either sign, or undergo more torture. I decide to sign.
When Tabitha came back, I found that she still had the piece of paper with her, but she also carried a small plastic cup, half filled with a golden liquid. I wondered if she was thirsty.
“So, now, you must sign and paper, and drink the contents of this cup.” Tabitha said. I was suddenly very suspicious of the cup.
“And what exactly is in the cup?” I asked, not sure if I would get a response.
“My piss.” She said matter-of-factly. “Consider it a way of christening the deal.”
“No way!” I say drawing as far back in the chair as I can. “I’ll sign, but there’s no way I’ll drink that.”
“Then it would seem we’re at an impasse.” Tabitha says, placing the cup and piece of paper on a shelf. “Well, let’s see what we can do to remedy things, shall we?”
I watch Tabitha as she sits back down on the stool again. She picks up the plastic hairbrush, and once again begins to beat upon my poor defenseless soles. This only goes on for a little while. My feet are already sensitive; she just wants to warm them up a bit more again. She finally stops when my feet feel like there burning.
“Here’s a little something to help cool them off.” Tabitha says, taking out the baby oil again. She begins rubbing a healthy amount on, applying coat after coat till my feet are nice and slick. She’s right in the sense that my feet are burning a little less now, but I think I would have preferred to go without the oil.
She then lifts the top layer of the inside of her Suitcase. I watch as it folds back like a fishing tackle box. She then lifts out a small blue plastic container. I wonder what’s in the box, but I don’t have to wonder long as she opens it and takes out…two electric toothbrushes.
My heart sinks at this. I know what those are. Those are Sonicare toothbrushes. They are very expensive, more then a hundred and twenty dollars a piece in Canada, but they are one of the most devastating tickling tools out there. Apparently they oscillate extremely fast. In the hands of a rookie, they could probably leave a person howling. In the hands of a pro…
“Please don’t!” I say, trying to appeal to her human side. “Those will kill me! I’ll sign the paper.”
“And the Piss?” She asks, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.
I look at her for a moment, then turn to look at the small glass. After a second I turn back. “No, please, I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” She counters, turning on the brushes.
My features darken. I grit my teeth as I speak. “Won’t.” Is all I say. All Tabitha does is shrug, and then begins applying the brushes to my oiled feet. I don’t laugh, I scream. It tickles worse then anything I ever thought could tickle. I scream and shriek, struggling like mad in the chair. She is a professional though, any time I get close to passing out, she stops, let’s me rest a minute or two, then she begins again. She finds my worse spots, then center’s on them, going back to different ones at different times when she feels the ones she been working have lost some of it’s sensitivity.
I scream until I can’t scream anymore, and still she won’t stop. I’ve realized, that I’m not alive anymore. No living person could endure this type of torture. I’m dead, and I’ve gone to hell. This shall be my eternal torment. For the rest of eternity this lovely Gothic woman will torture me. I lose all sense of time. There is only the tickling of my feet. Finally, it stops.
I’m vaguely aware of somebody standing beside me. I’m almost catatonic from the tickling. A hand waves in front of my face. When I don’t respond, my head is cupped and turned towards another. I recognize Tabitha after a second; she has a look, which is hinted with concern.
“James?” She say’s cautiously. My mouth opens and closes several times, but no sound comes out. She gets a bottle of water and let’s me take a drink, helping to cool my burning throat. She then brushed my face with a cool and moist cloth. About ten minutes go by maybe, I’m not sure. I do finally come about my senses. The look of concern, if there was any there, is replaced by a look of indifference.
“So, are you ready to give in?” She asks. My eyes trail from her, to the glass, and then back to her again.
“No…” I whisper. I won’t drink her Piss, but I also know I’m giving her a pleading look. A look begging for mercy but still showing my defiance at the same time.
“God, you are something else, do you know that?” She asks, her hands on her hips. I can see a bit of admiration in her eyes. Apparently I’m tougher then she thought. I admit, having her respect me, is almost worth the torture I’ve gone through. Almost.
“I’m almost sorry that I have to do this.” Tabitha says, going back to her suitcase. She puts her brushes back in their box and pulls out another box, this one black. “Did you know that people become even more ticklish after they orgasm?” She asks as she lays the box on the ground beside me. She then opens the box, letting me look over and see what’s inside.
“What the…” I begin, looking at what looks like a small vibrator. It looks about four inches long, and maybe double the size in width of a pencil. A small cord is attached to the bottom that leads to a control. Also in the case is a small tube of Lubricant, about the same size as the miniature tubes of Toothpaste you can buy. My Eyes suddenly widen when I realize what she intends. “No way!”
“Yes way, unless…” She turns her eyes to the cup. She then looks back to me expectantly.
“No.” I say again, although this time I’m a little less adamant in tone.
“Alright, it’s your choice.” Tabitha says, taking the lube bottle and applying a bit to her finger. I now understand why this chair has a whole in the seat. I feel her finger reach up and apply a fair amount of the lubrication to my ass hole. It feels weird, like somebody just put something cold and slimy on me. She then goes about applying some more lube to the Vibrator. “See, woman have what is known as the ‘G’ Spot, on the roof of there Vaginas. Men, on the other hand, have there prostate gland, which is more or less the male ‘G’ Spot. Stimulate it enough, and it will produce very powerful orgasms.” Her hand disappears under the chair and I feel it pressing on my rectum.
Hmm…Perhaps I should explain a bit about myself before I go any further. You see, I’m one of those few Canadians who have what one might call a ‘tickling’ fetish. I know, it sounds weird, but that’s what I like. Sue me. Oh, by the way, I’m James, and I’m 21.
As it happens, I’m a huge fan of Tabitha, and have several of her video’s at home. She’s probably one of, if not the, biggest female tickler in the business right now. Mind you, she also makes a hot ticklee, although it’s only happened in two videos. She’s been in about twenty videos, which while isn’t tons as far as most mainstream fetishists go, but every video she’s done has been high quality.
Oh, I should also mention that she owns her own video company. It’s one of the biggest tickling fetish companies out there. It’s been in business for about four years now and dominates the tickling fetish market.
Anyway though, you can imagine my surprise at seeing her. I watched as she took the beer and opened it with ease, taking a long drink from it. Tabitha is 29 years old. Nice firm looking breasts, a well-toned belly, hell, everything on her is well toned. She has the slightest hint of muscularity, showing her physical superiority that she usually uses to tickle wrestle the other girls into submission with.
She’s also what you might call a Goth. She wear’s black lipstick, black nail polish, and has a ivory white complexion. She also has a long, raven black main of hair, with her bangs a bright white. All in all, she’s an imposing figure. Oh, did I mention she also stands 6’’ feet tall without heels?
Right now, she’s dressed in black heels, fishnet stockings, and a leather miniskirt, black of course, and a sleeveless top that show’s some of her pleasantly ample cleavage. Now, I know her look, her gothic style, is a turn-off to most of the people here. For me though, it only makes her more exotic looking.
I watch as she hands the Bartender a bill, and he gives her a rack full of pool balls. She then takes them and casually walks around back to the poolroom. I watch as she disappears into the room, her hips swaying just slightly. I stare after her for a few minutes, thinking to myself.
I’m hesitant, but I do know I want to talk to her. I’ll probably never have this chance again. Fortunately, I showered and shaved before I came here, so I’m looking well. I’m not an overly muscular guy, but I have an ok body. I’m not overweight, but I’m not overly defined either. I am about average. I’m also about average in looks. Mind you, unfortunately, I’m only about 5’6 in height, not very tall for a guy.
Now, by this time I had drunken about three beers, so that probably helped me get my courage up. I walked into the back room, just in time to see her slam the rack with the q-ball, sending pool balls everywhere and sinking the nine-ball. She then looked up and saw me looking at her. “Uh, hello.” Was all I could muster. I felt a slight blush rise to my cheeks and hoped she didn’t notice.
“Hello” She replied, in a friendly voice. Her eyes seemed to be scanning me over, absorbing everything around me. She looked at me for a minute before returning to the table and sinking a ball. Afterwards, she looked at me again. I hadn’t taken her eyes off her all this time and I bet she had noticed it.
I wasn’t really sure what to say to be honest. I had been collecting her video’s since I was 16, and now I had just turned 21 last month. I remember I even sent her a fan letter about two years ago. I had suggested she take the nickname “Black Rose” because she was so lovely and sinister at the same time. I had gotten a letter back, saying she had loved the name and that she wished him well. There had been a signed picture with a black lipstick kiss on it. She never did take on the nickname, but I still have the picture and letter.
“Are you here to play pool?” Tabitha asked, her words interrupting my thoughts. She was holding her pool cue and looking at me a little more curiously.
“Yeah.” I quickly said, unsure of what else to say. I couldn’t very well say, “Actually I’m just here to ogle you.”
“You don’t have the balls.” She said off handedly.
“What?” Her comment caught me by surprise.
“Pool balls. You don’t have any to play.” She said, although she gave me a wicked look, suggesting that she had enjoyed making squirm under her gaze. She paused. “Tell me, are you any good?”
“I’m alright.” I assume she means am I good at playing pool.
“Alright then. You can take striped balls.” Tabitha leaned over and was about to shoot, then stopped. She then looked up at me, although the rest of her body held in the position to shoot. “That is, if you want to play with me.” She didn’t look away from me as she shot and sent another ball into the side pocket.
“I would love to.” I replied as coolly as I could. I walked over to the wall and found a pool cue about the right size. Tabitha sank about three more balls before she finally missed.
“Well, your up.” Tabitha said, sitting down on one of the stools and watching me intently, taking a sip from her beer.
I calmly walked over to the pool table and lined up the balls. After a second, I drilled the q-ball. Now, I’m not a great pool player, but I have what you might call a special skill. The more I play the better I get, and I get better quick. This shot was more of a fluke then anything. Not only did I sink the ball I was aiming for, I managed to get a second ball with the rebound from the Q-ball. I heard Tabitha give an approving whistle from behind me.
“Nice shot.” She commented. She took another drink from her beer. “So, are you a local boy?”
“Yeah. Lived here all my life.” I said, lining up another shot and sinking another ball.
“Hmmm…I thought you people would be scared of me.” She said offhandedly.
“You people?” I repeated, looking around at her. “Ya’ll mean us country folk?” My voice was half-serious. I admit, I do live in what some call a quaint little resort area, far away from cities and big communities, but to me it’s still home, and I’ve never liked it when somebody talked poorly about it, or the people.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.” Tabitha said, sincerity in her voice. “Just, as you can see, I don’t exactly blend in most places. That’s the reason why I go to small quite places. So I don’t have to deal with all the staring. I can just relax and be myself.” She gave a little shrug. “Last time I went to a small resort like this, I was almost burnet at the stake for being a witch.” She gave a little laugh at that.
“Well, that won’t happen here.” I said, although I made sure my voice was friendly.
“Oh?” She got up and stood across from me, leaning forward on her hands and giving me a pleasant view of her cleavage, although I made sure to keep looking her in the eyes. Even though I knew she was flirting with me, I have found that woman prefer the focus to be kept on there face, instead of there breasts. “Are you going to be my protector?”
“Well, I don’t think you’re the type of woman to need swarms of men jumping to her defense, but if you needed my help, I would offer it.” From the look on her face, I’d say my answer impressed her. Just then a waitress came in.
“You two need anything?” She asked, her eyes staring at me, and then staying locked on Gloria. The look on her face said just how much she liked Tabitha’s appearance.
“Two more beers.” Tabitha said, before she turned her back on the waitress and looked over the pool table. The waitress stood there for a moment before she walked out of the poolroom.
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Tabitha said, indicating with a thumb in the directing the Waitress came in.
“Well, you do have to admit you do dress a little different then the average person.” I said. I knew the waitress, and she wasn’t a bad person.
“Ah, but I’m not the average person. I’m me, and I don’t intend to be anybody less then me.” Gloria looked at me evenly. “What do you think of my appearance?”
“I like it,” I returned in a friendly manner. “You remind me of a Black Rose.”
Tabitha’s head cocked slightly to the left, a small smile on her face. “Now, where did you come up with a name like that?”
*****************************************
“Ohh….” I groaned. My eyes slowly fluttered as I slowly woke up. There were three things I realized very quickly when I woke up. The first was that I wasn’t in my own bed. I could tell that from the color of the ceiling alone. The Second would be that as I began to get up, I found myself tied to the bed spread eagle. And the third and final thing I realized was that I was naked under the covers.
“Well, good morning.” Came a familiar voice.
I looked over to find Tabitha sitting in a chair, facing me with a warm smile on her face. She stood up and came to sit on the bed beside me. I couldn’t believe what she was wearing. She was in her bra and panties, and her black fishnet stockings. She also seemed to be wearing high heels. All of this was black, of course, and made a lovely contradiction to her ivory white skin. “How you feeling?”
“Um…a little tied up.” I reply giving my restraints a little tug. She let out a small laugh at that.
“hehe, yes, you certainly are.” Tabitha reached down and began gently tickling around my neck and chest. I immediately broke out into giggles and squirmed around.
“Kitchy kitchy James.” Tabitha teased. Lightly tickling for another minute or so before she stopped.
I gasped some air for a minute before recovering. “What happened? Did we sleep together or something?”
“Nope.” Tabitha said, placing her two fingers on my chest. She then began a ticklish little walk down my torso, pulling the covers with them as she went. “But, however, we did have a lot of fun last night, that resulted in one of us loosing there clothing.” She her fingers had walked down my torso I began to laugh. She stopped her fingers just before where my pubic hair was beginning. “And do you know which one of us it was?” She gave me a devilish grin.
“Me, I’m guessing.” I said, once my laughter had subsided. I’m super ticklish, and I think she figured that out. “What exactly happened last night?”
“Don’t really remember huh?” She asked, giving me that evil smile I’ve seen on so many videos just before she pounces on her victims. “Well, after you made that comment about me being a “Black Rose” I remembered I had gotten a piece of fan mail with that name on it. Also, it came from this area. As the two of us kept drinking, I brought up about how I was ticklish when you accidentally brushed against me.”
“After that, and a few more beer, we talked about tickle wrestling, when we were kids. And, I somehow managed to talk you into a round.” Tabitha laughed, smiling at me playfully. “That was fun, we wrestled in my living room for a bit, then I pinned you down and gave you a good rib tickling.”
“So, then how did I get naked?” I asked, still giving a little more struggle. It was no good though; these ropes were tight, and firm.
“Well, you suggested we have strip tickling matches. You were pretty drunk by that time. So, basically we kept tickle wrestling, and every time a person said uncle, they lost a piece of clothing. You got me down to my garters, stockings, panties and braw, which I admit surprised me.” Tabitha then reached down and began goosing my hips causing me to laugh out loud.
“Ahahahahahahahahstop!” I cried out laughing my head off. She did after a minute or two, leaving me a giggling mess.
“Course I got you naked. So which means I won the match, and got to check you out.” She winked at me. “Also means I got to tickle wrestle with you naked. I pretty much pumped ever bit of information out of you I wanted.”
“What information?” I asked, no doubt sounding a bit worried.
She smiled at me again and this time began skittering her fingers up and down my ribs teasingly. I tried not to laugh but after a minute I was laughing my head off. “Why, about how you bought my videos illegally when you were younger, using a fake name and sending cash, you naughty boy. How you’re my biggest fan, and how you love tickling.” She withdrew her long black nails again, grinning down at me, enjoying her little game no doubt. She let me get my breath again, allowing me to speak.
“O-ok, that explains why I’m naked, but what about being tied to the bed?” I was more then a little worried when I asked this question. Even though Tabitha seemed like a nice woman, although perhaps with a different fashion sense, I knew her for what she really was. A tickle Sadist. And here I was, a young, extremely ticklish man, bound naked to her bed, in the middle of cottage country where nobody would be around for miles.
“You really don’t remember anything from last night, do you?” She ran her hand across my cheek, and I admit, that right there would have given me a hard on alone, if I didn’t already have one from her closeness and her choice of clothing. I hope she didn’t notice. For some, this would have been a very scary situation, and I admit it was a bit scary for me also, but, being the tickling fetishist I am, it was also very exciting, and the more she tickled and teased and flirted with me, the more excited I got.
“What else happened last night?” I wondered out loud.
“Well, we made a bet. The first to be naked would have to let the other person tickle them for the rest of the day as much as the tickler likes.” She then leaned forward, her face only inches from mine. I could feel her heaving breasts lightly pressed to my chest. “Do you like that?” She whispered. “Does the thought of being at the mercy of a sadistic, cruel tickler, the one you’ve dreamed of since you were 16, excite you?” She then leaned back and pulled the blanket of from around my waist. “Mm…well apparently it does.” She gave me a wicked grin while I squirmed, my face crimson red. She loved this, I could tell, and in a way, I loved it also.
“I’m going to tickle you all day.” She taunted. “I’m going to let my experienced fingers probe every bit of your body, tickling relentlessly. See, I love to tickle people. I’d do it all day every day if I had the choice. Unfortunately, that’s not the case though.” She sighed. “You see, I’m what you might call a true tickling torture purest. I don’t like to just tickle a person for an hour or two with breaks, then let them go. I want to tickle people till there screaming bloody mercy. Until there willing to do or say anything to be let go. Because of that desire, I very rarely get to tickle anybody like that. I know a few people, but I rarely get to tickle people to that extent.” She then turned her eyes to mine, looking up at me with that wicked smile on her face that turned me on so much on her face.
“But you, I own this ticklish little body of yours for the rest of the day, and I plan on giving it the work out of its life.” She licked her lips, as if savoring the taste of my fear. “Now, where do you think I should start?” Her eyes ran up and down my body again. “Well, I think I know at least one body part that wants my attentions obviously.” I watched as she reached over and gently runs the tip of her finger along the base of my erect shaft, sending a pleasant tremble through my body. “I’ll make sure that gets a bit of attention, but later.” She winked at me.
“For now though, I’ll think I’ll have a side order of ribs.” She said before I felt her fingers skittering along my ribs.
Now, I tried but in a matter of minutes I was reduced to laughter. Her skilled fingers mapped my ribs, finding spots that I didn’t even know I had, mentally marking them, then further exploring, then eventually returning to the spots that got the best reactions. “AHAHAHHAAHAPLEASE STOP!!” I cried out frantically, pulling at my ropes.
“Nope, I’m definitely not stopping.” I heard her say in reply; before I felt her fingers dig in a little deeper. That was enough to drive me crazy, bouncing up and down on the bed. I then felt as she straddled me. “Can’t have you bucking around all over the place.”
Her fingers tickled up my ribs until they reached my armpits. She tickled there for a moment before she decided to move on. My guess was she didn’t like the armpit hair, which made me less responsive. She was soon scrabbling down my sides again, much to my protests, until she came around to my stomach.
Now, I don’t have a lot of fat on my stomach, not much at all. I don’t have a six-pack, but there’s not much meat there either, so you can imagine how I jumped when she began to lightly glide her long, pointed, black nails over my abs. She tickled it like mad, swirling her fingers in never ending random patterns, occasionally letting a nail slide into my belly button to drive me insane, then sliding it out just as quickly. “AAHAHAHAHAHAHEHEHHEHESTOP PLEASE!!!” I cried out frantically.
“That’s it, let me hear you beg!” She said sadistically, tickling faster though I don’t know how. We seemed to stay like this for eternity. Her tickling me and me begging and laughing. Finally I felt a darkness approaching, one that would mercifully end my suffering. But, at the last moment…
“Uh, uh.” I heard a voice say, as the darkness began to leave me and I was cast out into the horrid light once again. “I’m not letting you get away that easy.” Tabitha said, stopping her tickling and letting me suck in as much air as I could. I saw her leaning over me, reaching to her right, and finding what looked like a feather of some type.
“I got a few toys while you were asleep.” She said, smiling at me. I watch as she slowly lowers the feather to my left nipple.
I begin to squirm and giggle, the erotic and ticklish touch of the feather was maddening, but not enough to send me into frenzied laughter. Of course, she knows this. Even during my breaks, I find no peace, as she tickles my sensitive nipples till there erect and I’m a giggling mess. She takes turns with my nipples tickling one, then the other, taunting me all the time, then when she feels I’ve gained enough stamina back, she puts the feather down and begins her merciless onslaught of rib and navel tickling.
Finally, mercifully, it ends. By the time she gets off me, I’m covered in sweat and more then a little exhausted. I look over at the clock on the nightstand beside me, and see that it’s 1:00 PM. She has been tickling me since 10:00 AM. Only three hours have passed. God, it felt like so many more.
“That was lot’s of fun.” I hear her say, my eyes being drawn back to her. She picks up a towel and begins to wipe my body down. She uses a damp cloth for my face, and lets me take a few drinks from a bottle of cold water. “I have something else I want you to try out.” She tells me.
“Oh, what’s this?” Tabitha says, looking at my wilted penis. “Not hard anymore? That won’t do.” I watch as she picks up the feather, then gently lay’s my penis, bottom side facing up, along her soft hand. “This should coax you back to life.” She says as she begins lightly tickling the underside of my exposed helmet.
I’ve never been tickle here before. Along my private area’s I mean. And let me tell you, it tickles a lot! I feel the feather running up and down my shaft, occasionally creeping a bit lower to tickle my defenseless testicles and cause spasm inducing fits of laughter. This continues only probably for a minute or two, but it has the desired effect, leaving me hard as rock.
“Mm…much better.” Tabitha purrs, smiling down at her handy work and giving me a few good strokes with her hand for good measure before getting up. “I do love it to have my men like this when they’re around me.” She then walks over to a dresser o the other side of the room and returns with what looks like some fishing string. She then does something I hadn’t expected.
“Now, we’ll just tie you up nice and tight, so you don’t give me any trouble when I take you down to the basement.” She says, making a loop around my balls with the string, then a second loop around the base of my cock, tying it off. She doesn’t tie it too tight, but tight enough that I can definitely feel it. “How’s that?” She asks, the back of her left index finger gently brushing the underside of my shaft right below the helmet. She watched it twitch in response, her eyes filled with sadistic delight.
“Now, it’s not that I don’t trust you to come along peacefully.” Tabitha said as she wrapped the other end of the fishing line around her hand, only giving the string in between my cock and balls and her hand about a foot of slack. “But I’ve done this a few times and had people run off on me before. Funny, they’re less afraid of making it back to there home naked, then they are of me tickling them.” She winked at me. She then reached down around the side of the bed and brought out a pair of leather cuffs. She tossed them beside me.
“Now, I’m going to untie your hands, and I want you to put them behind you back and put those cuff’s on. Any funny business and I’ll give this string a good hard yank and trust me you don’t want that.” She warned, giving a small tug to give me an idea. She was right; I don’t want her to give that string a hard tug.
She reached up and begins to skillfully untie the rope around my right wrist with her free hand. It takes her a minute but she does it, then gets me to untie my other hand. When both hands are free she watches me carefully as I fasten my arms behind my back with the cuffs. Come to think of it, the fishing line is pretty useless. Even if I did make a break for it, my ankles are still tied to the bed and there’s no way I could reach them to untie them. If I caused problems she could just tickle my feet until I gave, so why the fishing line?
I didn’t have to wonder very long. Tabitha let a bit more slack go, then went to the end of the bed and untied my ankles. When my ankles were untied, she then told me to stand up. She let a little more slack in the line, but didn’t let go.
“Now, follow me.” Gloria instructed again. To my great embarrassment, I found her leading me around her house by the noose around my most private of spots. She literally had me by the balls. This was her intention all along. She makes sure that there’s enough slack that if I follow closely there is no serious tugging.
I follow her out of her room, and into the living room, and then from there, we stop so she can unlock the basement door. She turns to look at me and smiles fondly. “So, having fun yet?”
I don’t respond. I’m not sure how to really. At the moment I’m confused. Yes, I feel embarrassed and humiliated, about being walked around the room by the balls like a dog on a leash, but there’s a small part of me that is enjoying this. That finds it both exciting and exhilarating. I think she knows this, but I also think she knows I’m hesitant, and at least a little bit scared.
“Hey now,” She say’s, gently reaching down with her right hand and stroking my cheek. She gently raises my face so she can look me in the eyes. She gives me a reassuring smile, and I know I would be blushing like mad from that smile alone, even if I wasn’t in this particular situation. “I’m just going to take you downstairs, and I’ll get this thing off this big ol’cock of yours, ok?” She winks.
“O-ok.” I say hesitantly, turning away and blushing more. I know I don’t have a big penis, only average in size, but I like how she called it big. It makes me feel all warm and tingly.
I follow her down the stairs. I’m very careful to stay close but not too close. If either one of us was to fall down the stairs it would be disastrous, particularly for me. What I see in the basement though, is very surprising.
“Do you like?” Tabitha asks, indicating the strange chair with the matching wood stocks in front. The stocks are the type with four holes in it, two close together in the center, and two more spread apart. I’ve seen ton’s of these on video’s. They’re resting on a heavy wooden table so they are high enough to match the chair.
The chair is the more interesting device though. It looks like a padded, black leather like chair, but that’s about all it has in common with a normal chair. I can see there are belts attached to it, no doubt to hold the victim down. The front legs of the chair are attached to the rear legs of the chair by a piece of wood that runs in between the two and along the floor, making a solid square. This no doubt makes tipping the chair extremely difficult. There are also two very interesting design changes about this chair. One, is there seems to be a flat little diagonal piece of wood attached to the right arm of the chair. It looks like somebody attached a clipboard to it. The other major change is that the place where you sit isn’t like a normal chair. It’s like a padded toilet seat. I can’t help but wonder about why there are these changes although, more then likely there’s a good reason.
“Wow.” Is all I can say. Even though it is a bit weird, I can tell there was good craftsmanship here.
“I made this myself.” Tabitha say’s proudly.
“You made this?” I sound surprised no doubt and she catches that.
She reaches over and runs her fingers along the stocks. “I have few major love’s in my life. Carpentry is one of them. Not as much as tickling, but still high up there. I find it a relaxing hobby.”
“I like to make the bondage devices for my video’s, usually on my holidays. This one is going to be used in a tickling torture video where a busty redhead is going to get tickled until she signs over the deed to her land.” Tabitha laughs. She then turns to me smiling. “I think you would make a good test subject for this chair.”
Tabitha unlocks the stocks with one hand and opens them up. “Now, sit in the chair and put your feet in the furthest two holes. I want your legs to be nice and far apart so I can see that lovely cock of yours while I tickle your feet.” She say’s seductively, enjoying making me squirm and blush, reminding me again of how naked and utterly exposed I am.
I do as she says though, sitting and placing my feet in the stocks. The cuff’s binding my arms behind me forces me to lean forward uncomfortably. I feel the stocks close around my ankles. The stock holes are padded, so my feet are comfortable, but all I can really do is wiggle my toes. I hear the sound of the two bolt locks on either side of the stocks being moved into place, then the clicking of the padlock for good measure. The bolt locks make sure the stocks remain closed tight, while the pad lock makes sure that even if I somehow undid the bolt locks, I couldn’t escape.
“Now, I’m going to remove the cuff’s on your hands.” Tabitha said, coming around and reaching behind me. “Remember, I still have the fishing line in my hands. Also, if you give me any problems, I’ll just start tickling your feet non-stop for the next few hours or so, until you do what I say, then punish you.” She gives me a look that say’s both that she’s serious, and also that she would enjoy punishing me. I decide not to risk it and do as she says. I place my hands on the arms of the chair and she fastens them around the wrist with the belts attached to the chair. When satisfied that there tight, but not too tight, she then applies the final piece of bondage, a belt around my waist. “Comfy?” She asks playfully, although I know that if I were uncomfortable she’d probably accommodate my needs.
“Yeah.” I say, still feeling a little scared. The chair is pleasantly padded, and very comfortable. The seat is a little odd, and I can feel my balls hanging down since there is no bottom, but it’s still decently padded.
“Good. Now, let me take those off.” I watch as Tabitha steps over my legs and kneels down in front of my privates. “I bet you like having me in this position huh?” She teases, looking up at me and giving me a playful grin, like a cat toying with a mouse. She then concentrates on her work, untying the fishing line.
“You know, there are some people who really enjoy to be dominated.” Her voice is soft and pleasant. As she unties the line, I feel her hands occasionally brushing across my shaft or lightly stroking my scrotum. I watch as her hands skillfully work, her attention focused on my bound penis and balls. “Some people just want to give up all control and leave themselves in the mercy of another. A person that wants to give up all trust to a strong individual.” She looked up at me, removing the last bit of Fishing Line. “I think your one of those people. I used to be a Domme, and still am on occasion. I own my own dungeon you know. I’ve seen those types of people many times, and I think your one of them. I think, last night, as soon as you saw me, part of you wanted to end up like this. You know very well who I am, and how cruel a tickler I can be.”
“And because I think your one of those who’s always wanted to be dominated, I’m going to tickle torture you.” I feel her hands now, stroking me harder. My hips want to lift myself closer to her, but the belt stops me. “I’m going to tickle and tease and torment you beyond anything you’ve ever felt before. I’ll do this for hours, torture you until you find a true sense of euphoria that can only be achieved by being pushed to your furthest possible limits.” She looks me in the eyes, one hand making a firm circle around my shaft, the other tilting my head up so were face to face. “I shall totally, and utterly break you…” I feel her lips touch mine, her tongue, warm and wet, searching out mine. I kiss her back for a moment that lasts for an eternity. All the time we’re kissing, I feel her hand pumping up and down my shaft, increasing my pleasure tenfold. Finally she pulls back. “And when I’m done, you’ll love me for it.”
I’m speechless as she slowly pulls away, and positions herself in front of my feet, sitting herself down on a padded stool. She takes two leather slings and puts them around my big toes, then slowly turns a crank attached to the top of the stocks. The slings pull my toes back, making my feet nice and taught. The thongs are pleasant in the sense they don’t cut off any circulation to my big toes. When she’s satisfied, I watched as she takes her index finger and slowly traces her nail up along my right instep.
“AH!” I cried out, my body jumping in response as if I’d gotten an electric shock. My feet are very ticklish. I hadn’t been tickled on the feet since I was like eight, but it seemed they were still just as sensitive.
“Oh my!” Tabitha smiles. “Such ticklish soles. How’s this?” She drags one of her nails down the other arch, causing another jerking sensation to flow through me. “Oh, I can tell I’m going to like these feet.”
My feet are in good condition. I take good care of them so there nice and soft. They’re about a size 11, which is big for my size. I have high arches, and long, spaced toes. They are a ticklers dream, and incidentally will know doubt be part of my worst nightmare.
“Oh, and what about right along here?” Tabitha continued tracing the contours of my feet running her long black nails now along the sides of my feet. “And here? And here? And here? Oh, what about here? Can’t forget here.” She went about methodically exploring every inch of my feet with her nails. No part was untouched. She got my toes, the undersides and in between them, all along the arch and instep, along either side of my foot, the balls of my feet and several other areas I hadn’t even realized I had. I was hysteric by the time she stopped.
“I think I’m in love.” She teased. Obviously she had a thing for ticklish feet, and mine were extremely ticklish. I watched as she walked over to one of the corner’s of the room and brought back with her a suitcase in one hand, and a small coffee table in the other. He then set the coffee table down beside her stool, and placed the suitcase on top of it.
“Do you have any idea of what’s in here?” Tabitha asked.
“Um…” I’m hesitant to try and guess. “I’m not sure but I have a feeling I’m not going to like it.”
She laughs at this, and then pops open the suitcase. “See, sometimes I go to dungeons on my vacations, when the tickling bug bites. I like to use my own tools so, I bring some along.” I watch as she pulls out a long wispy feather. “Let’s see…” She say’s staring intently at my feet, gently running the feather up and down my left sole.
“hehhehehee.” The feather is too light and soft to really tickle, but it does send me into giggles, and makes me squirm. She then slides it in between my middle and second smallest toe. I Jump at that, and quickly squeeze my toes shut around the invading feather.
“Oh my, it seems you’ve trapped my feather.” Tabitha say’s giving the feather a little tug. I give a little jerk at that response but my toes still hold tight. She then pull’s an identical one out of her suitcase. She then does the same thing to my other foot, although this time she has to hold my toe’s open before she releases them and let’s them clamp down on the feather. She gives it a testing tug also, to see if there’s any give. She then does the same thing, again and again, placing a feather in between my toes, allowing me to trap each one, until all my toes have feathers in between them. She could pull the feathers out, and it would tickle me madly because of how tight my toes are around it, but it would also probably ruin the feathers.
“Well, it seems you’ve captured my feathers.” She puts her hands on her hips in a mock gesture of sternness. “Seems I’ll have to convince you to let them go…” I watch as she pulls out another feather, though this one is shorter, and stiffer then the last, ending in a very fine tip. She very slowly begins to run the tip of the feather up and down my insteps.
“Ah! Ah! Ah! Ahahahahahahha!” I begin laughing again. Now, I know a fair bit about the tickling community, and to have feet that are feather ticklish is a rare thing. Now, I’m not in hysterics, but it does tickle, no doubt about that. I see Tabitha’s eyes light up at my reaction. She probably knows better then I, how rare feather ticklishness is. She continues to switch between feet, giving one foot several strokes then giving the other foot several strokes. Before long I can’t keep my toes locked down anymore, they wiggle about with wild abandonment. This tickles even worse now! Now I have feathers tickling in between each of my toes, not to mention the one tickling my arches, which is soon joined by another so both my feet are now in this hell together. Now, I am in hysterics. “AHAHAHAAHAHAHA!”
This tickling lasts a long time, and seems like there will be no end to it. Finally I had an idea. “AHAHAHAHAHTAKE THEM!!” I cry out.
“Take what?” She asks, not even looking up, too focused on her feathering. “If you’re going to say clothing, I’ve already taken them.”
“AHAHAHAHATAKE THE FEATHERSSSSSEEEEEHEHEHHEH!”
“But I already have feathers.” Tabitha calmly said, smiling as she held up the feathers in her hands for my blurry eyes to see before she went back to her light feathering of my soles.
I knew she was playing with me, but there was little more that I could do then to play along back. “NOAHAAHAHATHE INBEHEHEEHEHEHEINBETWEEN MY TOES!!!” I cried out frantically.
“You want me to put them in between your toes?” She asked. I felt the feathers sweep the undersides of my toes and laughed even harder. “Oh, I can’t do that, it seems you already have feathers in there.” She then goes back to feathering my soles.
“TAKE THEHEHEHEHEHEHEH FEATHER’S OUTEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA FROM EHEHEHE INBEHEHEHEHEHTWEEENN MY TOES!!!” I finally manage to get out. By now I have tears of laughter in my eyes, and I bet my face is rather red also.
“Oh, so that’s what you want?” She say’s doing a perfectly well “Oh-it-finally-has-dawned-on-me” voice. She paused for a minute, as if she was considering the matter. “No, I actually like them where they are.” She said casually before she began feathering my feet again.
“PLEASEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!” I begged. After a minute she decided to stop.
“Alright, I’ll tell you what.” She said, looking at me seriously. “I’ll take those feathers out from in between your toes, but you can’t clamp down on them. You do, and you’ll ruin them. So the second you clamp your toes down, I go back to feathering your feet, and the feathers stay in there. Deal?”
I know it’s an almost hopeless deal. The Feathers are a good six inches in length, and she will no doubt pull them slowly, but what choice do I have. “Ok.” I finally agree. I brace myself.
“Here we go James…” Tabitha say’s slyly. She doesn’t pull my toes apart, but gently, and agonizingly slowly begins to pull one of the feathers out. She watches my toes intently, watching them tremble with effort.
I grit my teeth and make a face, trying my best not to laugh, and more importantly, not to close my toes. This goes on for a good five minutes. Some how, I manage not to close my toes around the feathers. Possibly because of the small breaks Tabitha gives as she puts the feathers back in their place inside the case.
“Well, you obviously have some will power.” Tabitha say’s smiling at me. “I like that. But I think it’s time I…tenderized you a bit…” She slowly takes an oval shaped hair comb out of her suitcase. This is one of those plastic combs, with a flat back and little plastic brush pieces that end in little knobs. I’ve seen these used before on tapes, and apparently they can tickle rather badly. But I don’t think she’s going to tickle me with it, at least not yet…
“Ow!” My fears are justified when I feel the back of the brush being slapped on the sole of my left foot. It’s doesn’t really hurt, at least not badly, but it does sting. I feel it come down again, making a slapping sound of flesh on plastic. “It hurts.” I protest.
“This is torture.” Tabitha replies simply, she gives my right sole a good “thwack” now. Followed by another. She then switches feet again. This continues until I’m making noises in pain. At first I had kept quiet, bearing it. Now though I grunt with each hit. She has increased the intensity, and it’s been maybe five to ten minutes now. Finally she stops, putting the brush down, but not away.
“Let’s see?” Tabitha says, gently running one of her nails down my Arch. I jump in response, letting out a small cry. I can’t believe how ticklish they’ve become. Tabitha seems satisfied with that and try’s the other, getting the same result. I watch as she pulls a small bottle of what can only be baby oil out of the case, and then rubs it on my left sole, causing occasional laughs as she does so. She then pulls out a small painting brush.
“AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHNOOOOOOO!!!” I cry out as the two pronged assault begins. I feel the plastic knobs of the brush running along my oiled left sole, while the paintbrush sweeps back and forth along my right instep and under my toes. I laugh hysterically this time, harder then I have ever. I laugh until I’m laughing silently. She doesn’t stop though. She keeps gently rubbing the hairbrush along my foot, sweeping the brush without mercy. The paintbrush keeps working my toes and in between them when it can without hesitation. I’m at the point where I think I’m going to pass out when she finally stops again.
“Oh…oh god…” I whimper, gasping in air. I feel her hands on my face, gently wiping away any tears and sweat with a small towel. She gently lift’s my face up so I’m looking at hers. She has a pleasant smile on her face, with just a touch of concern.
I watch as she takes a piece of handwritten paper and places it along the clipboard underneath my right hand. “This is a legal contract, stating that you shall work for me while I am here, and that you shall help me do various choirs around the house and such. During this time you shall be paid minimum wage and wear the outfit of my choice. Also, you shall give yourself to me to torture you at my will, whenever and wherever I choose. If you break any of these agreements, you shall be legally sued. Now, sighn.” She hands me a pen and looks at me expectantly.
I think about this for a moment. Really, I wouldn’t mind the job. I have a part time job, but not one that takes too long. It’s the outfit and the option of her being able to torture me anytime I want I dislike. Could I really go though this again? “What types of outfit’s?” I ask.
“Oh, School girl uniform, French maid stuff, you know.” She say’s seriously. She snap’s her finger. “Oh, I almost forgot! I’ll be back in a second. Don’t go anywhere.” She removes the piece of paper from the clip board, then head’s upstairs.
I sit there considering my options. I definitely don’t want to wear any of those costumes she suggested, but what choice do I have? Perhaps I can hold out till she decides to give up. That’s a faint hope. I doubt she would ever get tired of tickling somebody, and I bet she enjoys a challenge. It’s either sign, or undergo more torture. I decide to sign.
When Tabitha came back, I found that she still had the piece of paper with her, but she also carried a small plastic cup, half filled with a golden liquid. I wondered if she was thirsty.
“So, now, you must sign and paper, and drink the contents of this cup.” Tabitha said. I was suddenly very suspicious of the cup.
“And what exactly is in the cup?” I asked, not sure if I would get a response.
“My piss.” She said matter-of-factly. “Consider it a way of christening the deal.”
“No way!” I say drawing as far back in the chair as I can. “I’ll sign, but there’s no way I’ll drink that.”
“Then it would seem we’re at an impasse.” Tabitha says, placing the cup and piece of paper on a shelf. “Well, let’s see what we can do to remedy things, shall we?”
I watch Tabitha as she sits back down on the stool again. She picks up the plastic hairbrush, and once again begins to beat upon my poor defenseless soles. This only goes on for a little while. My feet are already sensitive; she just wants to warm them up a bit more again. She finally stops when my feet feel like there burning.
“Here’s a little something to help cool them off.” Tabitha says, taking out the baby oil again. She begins rubbing a healthy amount on, applying coat after coat till my feet are nice and slick. She’s right in the sense that my feet are burning a little less now, but I think I would have preferred to go without the oil.
She then lifts the top layer of the inside of her Suitcase. I watch as it folds back like a fishing tackle box. She then lifts out a small blue plastic container. I wonder what’s in the box, but I don’t have to wonder long as she opens it and takes out…two electric toothbrushes.
My heart sinks at this. I know what those are. Those are Sonicare toothbrushes. They are very expensive, more then a hundred and twenty dollars a piece in Canada, but they are one of the most devastating tickling tools out there. Apparently they oscillate extremely fast. In the hands of a rookie, they could probably leave a person howling. In the hands of a pro…
“Please don’t!” I say, trying to appeal to her human side. “Those will kill me! I’ll sign the paper.”
“And the Piss?” She asks, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.
I look at her for a moment, then turn to look at the small glass. After a second I turn back. “No, please, I can’t.”
“Can’t or won’t?” She counters, turning on the brushes.
My features darken. I grit my teeth as I speak. “Won’t.” Is all I say. All Tabitha does is shrug, and then begins applying the brushes to my oiled feet. I don’t laugh, I scream. It tickles worse then anything I ever thought could tickle. I scream and shriek, struggling like mad in the chair. She is a professional though, any time I get close to passing out, she stops, let’s me rest a minute or two, then she begins again. She finds my worse spots, then center’s on them, going back to different ones at different times when she feels the ones she been working have lost some of it’s sensitivity.
I scream until I can’t scream anymore, and still she won’t stop. I’ve realized, that I’m not alive anymore. No living person could endure this type of torture. I’m dead, and I’ve gone to hell. This shall be my eternal torment. For the rest of eternity this lovely Gothic woman will torture me. I lose all sense of time. There is only the tickling of my feet. Finally, it stops.
I’m vaguely aware of somebody standing beside me. I’m almost catatonic from the tickling. A hand waves in front of my face. When I don’t respond, my head is cupped and turned towards another. I recognize Tabitha after a second; she has a look, which is hinted with concern.
“James?” She say’s cautiously. My mouth opens and closes several times, but no sound comes out. She gets a bottle of water and let’s me take a drink, helping to cool my burning throat. She then brushed my face with a cool and moist cloth. About ten minutes go by maybe, I’m not sure. I do finally come about my senses. The look of concern, if there was any there, is replaced by a look of indifference.
“So, are you ready to give in?” She asks. My eyes trail from her, to the glass, and then back to her again.
“No…” I whisper. I won’t drink her Piss, but I also know I’m giving her a pleading look. A look begging for mercy but still showing my defiance at the same time.
“God, you are something else, do you know that?” She asks, her hands on her hips. I can see a bit of admiration in her eyes. Apparently I’m tougher then she thought. I admit, having her respect me, is almost worth the torture I’ve gone through. Almost.
“I’m almost sorry that I have to do this.” Tabitha says, going back to her suitcase. She puts her brushes back in their box and pulls out another box, this one black. “Did you know that people become even more ticklish after they orgasm?” She asks as she lays the box on the ground beside me. She then opens the box, letting me look over and see what’s inside.
“What the…” I begin, looking at what looks like a small vibrator. It looks about four inches long, and maybe double the size in width of a pencil. A small cord is attached to the bottom that leads to a control. Also in the case is a small tube of Lubricant, about the same size as the miniature tubes of Toothpaste you can buy. My Eyes suddenly widen when I realize what she intends. “No way!”
“Yes way, unless…” She turns her eyes to the cup. She then looks back to me expectantly.
“No.” I say again, although this time I’m a little less adamant in tone.
“Alright, it’s your choice.” Tabitha says, taking the lube bottle and applying a bit to her finger. I now understand why this chair has a whole in the seat. I feel her finger reach up and apply a fair amount of the lubrication to my ass hole. It feels weird, like somebody just put something cold and slimy on me. She then goes about applying some more lube to the Vibrator. “See, woman have what is known as the ‘G’ Spot, on the roof of there Vaginas. Men, on the other hand, have there prostate gland, which is more or less the male ‘G’ Spot. Stimulate it enough, and it will produce very powerful orgasms.” Her hand disappears under the chair and I feel it pressing on my rectum.