Volsung1
1st Level Red Feather
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Many months had passed since Helen put on the electric remote control tickling devices. http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=46904 To be sure she kept them, the gossamer socks and panties were carefully stashed in a box, in the back of her closet. If word of this ever got out that she had these things... She would sometimes pull them out of the closet and put them on, secretly hoping that they were somehow still "on". But they never were. Now she was back in her closet looking at these items again. She ran the panties across her face, it was indeed gossamer. Helen held them up to the naked lightbulb that lit her closet. She could make out the sensors, finely woven into the fabric. They all came to a point in the front of the crotch. Here the lines became as complex as a computer chip schematic. She closed her eyes and tried to relive that wonderful feeling of tickle torture and blissful orgasmic release.
"Hmm..." she moaned softly, half hoping that she wasn't actually moaning out loud in her closet. She chuckled at herself for the thought. She put the panties back in the box.
Helen pulled the socks out and slipped them on. Oh my they were soft too! She wiggled her toes, trying to get them to tickle her again as they once did. Well, they were very comfortable, nevertheless.
Then suddenly the doorbell rang. Helen quickly took her socks off, placed them back in the box. Replaced the lid, and threw it back into the dark corner of the closet. She opened the front door of the apartment to find a young man, dressed in a delivery uniform with a box under his arm.
"Delivery miss." He said.
He handed her the box. Helen took it and placed it in the doorway.
"Sign please"
He handed her the usual electronic writing tablet. While she was signing for the package the young man glanced at her bare feet. He noticed that her toes were pedicured. French pedicure...very nice. She finished writing her signature and returned the tablet. The delivery man suddenly came out of his fixated trance and hurriedly ran back to the truck. Helen took the package and went to the dinning room table. She knew what this was going to be... kinda. She could feel her heart racing as she open the box. She pulled out a white bra. She held it up to the light. Yep, this was what she expected, fine circuit lines running throughout the delicate fabric. She was trilled and anxious at the same time. Suddenly the phone rang.
"You get it?"
At first she couldn't tell who this was. It had been such a long time since she had heard from him.
"...yes."
She finally recognized who was on the other side of the telephone line. It was Alex. The Alex who put her through all that tickle torture at the library. The electronic socks and panties. The terrific orgasm that she had endured silently. The thoughts and feelings were all coming back. It made her weak at the knees and so she sat down.
"I've got a new assignment for you. You are to put on all your toys, plus the new present and go to the art museum. There are some paintings that I would like for you to see. You will also bring the iPod."
"iPod, what iPod"?
The phone suddenly clicked off. A steady tone emitted from the earpiece. Helen looked in the box again and sure enough there was a typical looking iPod. A pair of headphones was attached. She put them on and fumbled with the controls. Nothing...
------------------------
An hour later Helen found herself standing in front of the art museum, with all her private electrical attire intact. She walked up the long flight up stairs to the main doors and went in. It was a weekend so it was pretty crowded. Helen winced. She bought a ticket for the tour and was given an iPod and some headphones.
"All the exhibits are numbered corresponding to the track number." the guide said.
Helen accepted the iPod and put it in her purse.
"Ah, your gonna need that. Just turn it to track one please..."
She shook her head in agreement and pulled out her "private" iPod from her purse. It was identical to the tour iPod in every way. She smiled to herself at the deception as she slipped the headphones on and proceeded to follow the tour. A familiar voice sounded in her earpiece. It was Alex.
"Ah Helen, nice to see you."
"You can see me?"
Helen wasn't sure if she had said this out loud, or she was just thinking it. She looked around. Then she spotted him. He had the identical "false" iPod and was talking to her through it.
"Yes" he said,
"and I can hear you too, and uh you need to be careful there are other people here you know."
Helen blushed and tried to blend in with the crowd. She looked at the pictures, but really didn't "look" at the pictures. She was too worried what would be happening next. Helen made herself acutely aware of her sense of touch. She knew that this would be the sensation that she would have to shut down, or at least hold off on for as long as she could. It was difficult. It was unavoidable. It was like trying not to think about a pink elephant. She knew that she couldn't do it and she knew what was going to happen next. Maybe she could focus all of her attention on the artworks. Now Helen desperately wished that her iPod had been a real working one. Just then it started to happen. With every step she took, she could feel the slightest tingle on the bottoms of her feet. It felt sort of like her feet were both "asleep." It was easy, though slightly uncomfortable, to let her mind believe that this was in fact the case. She stopped walking and looked at the picture in front of her. It was Madam Monet in a Japanese Costume, 1875. Helen was captivated by the face, that palish, smiling face that seemed to be mocking her. Helen did a double take. Yes, it was mocking her. The girl in the picture knew that Helen had a tickle in her socks, a tickle that would only get worse. Helen's eyes widen with the horrible thought. Yet, she couldn't take her eyes off the painting. The tickling in her socks grew worse. She tried shifting her weight from one foot to the other. That didn't help. She could feel the electrical charges moving in between her toes. The light fabric on her sole rippled up down, feather like. Helen bit her lip and looked deeper into the painting, trying to get some distraction from it. The fan that the girl was holding in the picture seemed to metamorphose into a fan made of feathers. Helen's mind was surely playing tricks on her. She tried not to think about it, but she couldn't help but think that now the girl in the painting was feather tickling her feet with that fan... She wanted to let the image play out in her mind. She loved being feather tickled, but here... Helen squinted her eyes and quickly walked to the next room. A small voice chuckled in her headphones.
As she reached the next room the tickling got to the point of uncontrollability. Helen giggled as softly as she could. Truly she must have seemed to the other patrons as some little girl who was up to some kind of mischief. After all, she had just run in from the adjoining room giggling. She caught a glance from Alex, who was standing in a corner of the room with an index finger placed on the center of his mouth, pointing to his nose. Helen tittered as it soon became clear that she was losing this battle. Alex made an adjustment on his "iPod" and the tickling ebbed down to a soft numbing hum. Helen faked a throat clearing noise and walked over to the next work of art. It was Rodin's "The Kiss" a marble sculpture, of two nude lovers embracing. Helen took a deep breath to clear her head and studied the sculpture along with the rest of the people. This was the kind of art she liked best, it was quite life like. As she considered the statue, she felt a slight tingling in her crotch area. Once again she convinced her mind that this was normal and attributable to the erotic nature of the marble statue she was looking at. Small electrical waves moved the fabric, massaging her mound. It tickled and pressed against her outer lips. Helen sucked in a quick breath and walked to the other side of the statue for a closer look. It was so smooth, the woman's breasts were so round and firm. Then Helen noticed that her own breast were beginning to tingle. Damn... She had forgotten about the remote control bra that she was wearing. Helen imagined that she was the woman on the pedestal, kissing her lover passionately. A feathery tickle traced a line underneath her breasts, moving towards her areolae. She caught herself humming with pleasure, and made the throat clearing noise again. She closed her eyes and looked at the sculpture in her mind. She could feel her nipples tighten as the lacy fabric feathered and teased them. Helen's vulva ached as her nipples became fully erect. She heard a faint whisper in her headphones... "Tsk, tsk, tsk..." As she opened her eyes, she could hear her heart beating against the foam padding of the headset. The sensual tickling stopped. Helen wiped her brow and left the room.
It was in this room that she came face to face with a life size copy of Ingres' Grande Odalisque. Helen swallowed hard for she knew that this painting would be her undoing. The erotic painting was of a nude woman back turned to the observer, it had a soles shot and she was holding a feather duster like fan. It clearly contained all of her secret fetish interests which were combined into one painting. Alex caught up with Helen and took his usual place in the corner of the room. Helen was aroused already, never mind any further stimulus from the remote control clothing she was wearing. The woman's face in the picture was calm and inviting. She held the feather "duster" low around her legs, daring you to take it from her. There was no question that the woman in the picture was ticklish and horny. Likewise, there was no question that Helen would feel and experience, right here and now, all those sensations. Once again, it was all too easy for her to mentally project herself into the painting.
Helen stared at the soles in the picture just as the familiar electric tingle, criss-crossed her own soles. Helen wiggled her toes as much as she could within the confines of her shoe. The toes in the painting looked so ticklish. Helen stifled a giggle as her bra began to silently buzz against her smooth skin. Her skin tone was very much like the woman's in the painting. Helen could feel her nipples harden, which of course made the bra tickling worse. Even though the woman's nipples didn't show in the painting, Helen knew that they would have been very much like her own, firm and erect. Helen was trapped in the painting, she was losing her identity through the external stimulation. Her crotch began to tingle. The woman's buttocks were so invitingly firm and round. Helen ached to take that feather duster and tickle them. Helen could feel the steady pulses against her mons pubis. Helen quickly sat down on a bench that was in front of the picture. All three articles of clothing were now activated, tickling and teasing her incessantly... and that painting... it was also teasing her, but she couldn't take her eyes off of it... so hot... SO HOT!
Then a faint voice whispered in her ear...
"Come on, you know you want to..."
Helen could just barely in take the sensory overload, now this...
"Does she tickle you?" the voice egged her on.
Feathery electric tickles raced up and down her sensitive crotch.
"Your such a horny ticklish little slut, aren't you?"
"yes... " Helen whispered under her breath... "I..."
The fabric gently tickled her labia majora apart.
"You want to cum, don't you?", the voice chuckled softly.
Helen whispered softly, "Please..."
"I don't know, I'm having too much fun right now you know."
Helen's eyes were beginning to tear up as the tickling became more and more pronounced.
"Now you don't want that, do you... in front of all these people?"
"Mmmmm......"
It was becoming more and more apparent that Helen could no longer keep her feelings to herself as she interspersed guttural moaning with the suppressed giggles. The patrons around her were beginning to take notice too and they stopped and stared at her as the ticklish panties teased her labia minora into erection. Helen started to giggle and pant. She wanted to touch herself, but that would look perverse. Besides, the closer she was to orgasm, the less she cared what the other people were thinking.
"She must really like this picture," A little girl said to her horrified mother. The mother grabbed the child by the hand and made for the exit. Helen folded her tortured body into a reclining position on the bench. The panties began to feverishly lick at her clitoris, making light tickling motions, stroking her engorged clitoris back and forth faster and faster.
"Cum for me, cum for me baby..." Alex whispered in her ear.
Helen had no choice, and she was glad to oblige. The orgasm came fast and hard. The mad tickling on her soles... her nipples... her tumescent clitoris. The erotic painting staring down at her complacently.
Helen savored every pulse of each contraction.... she began to pump her pubic bone up and down, as though she was fucking an invisible lover.
"Ooooh.... Oh... my God..... Oh My God..... MY GOD!!!!!!!.... SHIT!!!!!"
Her clit ejaculated clear fluid, which soaked her panties... her legs twitched, then every muscle in her body tightened....
"AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
Helen tried to laugh, but not a sound was heard. She was too physically and emotionally spent.
Alex came in his pants too. Some men as well as a few of the women in the room also experienced something special.
Nobody in that room ever doubted the power of art again.
------------
The next installment is here: http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=69877
"Hmm..." she moaned softly, half hoping that she wasn't actually moaning out loud in her closet. She chuckled at herself for the thought. She put the panties back in the box.
Helen pulled the socks out and slipped them on. Oh my they were soft too! She wiggled her toes, trying to get them to tickle her again as they once did. Well, they were very comfortable, nevertheless.
Then suddenly the doorbell rang. Helen quickly took her socks off, placed them back in the box. Replaced the lid, and threw it back into the dark corner of the closet. She opened the front door of the apartment to find a young man, dressed in a delivery uniform with a box under his arm.
"Delivery miss." He said.
He handed her the box. Helen took it and placed it in the doorway.
"Sign please"
He handed her the usual electronic writing tablet. While she was signing for the package the young man glanced at her bare feet. He noticed that her toes were pedicured. French pedicure...very nice. She finished writing her signature and returned the tablet. The delivery man suddenly came out of his fixated trance and hurriedly ran back to the truck. Helen took the package and went to the dinning room table. She knew what this was going to be... kinda. She could feel her heart racing as she open the box. She pulled out a white bra. She held it up to the light. Yep, this was what she expected, fine circuit lines running throughout the delicate fabric. She was trilled and anxious at the same time. Suddenly the phone rang.
"You get it?"
At first she couldn't tell who this was. It had been such a long time since she had heard from him.
"...yes."
She finally recognized who was on the other side of the telephone line. It was Alex. The Alex who put her through all that tickle torture at the library. The electronic socks and panties. The terrific orgasm that she had endured silently. The thoughts and feelings were all coming back. It made her weak at the knees and so she sat down.
"I've got a new assignment for you. You are to put on all your toys, plus the new present and go to the art museum. There are some paintings that I would like for you to see. You will also bring the iPod."
"iPod, what iPod"?
The phone suddenly clicked off. A steady tone emitted from the earpiece. Helen looked in the box again and sure enough there was a typical looking iPod. A pair of headphones was attached. She put them on and fumbled with the controls. Nothing...
------------------------
An hour later Helen found herself standing in front of the art museum, with all her private electrical attire intact. She walked up the long flight up stairs to the main doors and went in. It was a weekend so it was pretty crowded. Helen winced. She bought a ticket for the tour and was given an iPod and some headphones.
"All the exhibits are numbered corresponding to the track number." the guide said.
Helen accepted the iPod and put it in her purse.
"Ah, your gonna need that. Just turn it to track one please..."
She shook her head in agreement and pulled out her "private" iPod from her purse. It was identical to the tour iPod in every way. She smiled to herself at the deception as she slipped the headphones on and proceeded to follow the tour. A familiar voice sounded in her earpiece. It was Alex.
"Ah Helen, nice to see you."
"You can see me?"
Helen wasn't sure if she had said this out loud, or she was just thinking it. She looked around. Then she spotted him. He had the identical "false" iPod and was talking to her through it.
"Yes" he said,
"and I can hear you too, and uh you need to be careful there are other people here you know."
Helen blushed and tried to blend in with the crowd. She looked at the pictures, but really didn't "look" at the pictures. She was too worried what would be happening next. Helen made herself acutely aware of her sense of touch. She knew that this would be the sensation that she would have to shut down, or at least hold off on for as long as she could. It was difficult. It was unavoidable. It was like trying not to think about a pink elephant. She knew that she couldn't do it and she knew what was going to happen next. Maybe she could focus all of her attention on the artworks. Now Helen desperately wished that her iPod had been a real working one. Just then it started to happen. With every step she took, she could feel the slightest tingle on the bottoms of her feet. It felt sort of like her feet were both "asleep." It was easy, though slightly uncomfortable, to let her mind believe that this was in fact the case. She stopped walking and looked at the picture in front of her. It was Madam Monet in a Japanese Costume, 1875. Helen was captivated by the face, that palish, smiling face that seemed to be mocking her. Helen did a double take. Yes, it was mocking her. The girl in the picture knew that Helen had a tickle in her socks, a tickle that would only get worse. Helen's eyes widen with the horrible thought. Yet, she couldn't take her eyes off the painting. The tickling in her socks grew worse. She tried shifting her weight from one foot to the other. That didn't help. She could feel the electrical charges moving in between her toes. The light fabric on her sole rippled up down, feather like. Helen bit her lip and looked deeper into the painting, trying to get some distraction from it. The fan that the girl was holding in the picture seemed to metamorphose into a fan made of feathers. Helen's mind was surely playing tricks on her. She tried not to think about it, but she couldn't help but think that now the girl in the painting was feather tickling her feet with that fan... She wanted to let the image play out in her mind. She loved being feather tickled, but here... Helen squinted her eyes and quickly walked to the next room. A small voice chuckled in her headphones.
As she reached the next room the tickling got to the point of uncontrollability. Helen giggled as softly as she could. Truly she must have seemed to the other patrons as some little girl who was up to some kind of mischief. After all, she had just run in from the adjoining room giggling. She caught a glance from Alex, who was standing in a corner of the room with an index finger placed on the center of his mouth, pointing to his nose. Helen tittered as it soon became clear that she was losing this battle. Alex made an adjustment on his "iPod" and the tickling ebbed down to a soft numbing hum. Helen faked a throat clearing noise and walked over to the next work of art. It was Rodin's "The Kiss" a marble sculpture, of two nude lovers embracing. Helen took a deep breath to clear her head and studied the sculpture along with the rest of the people. This was the kind of art she liked best, it was quite life like. As she considered the statue, she felt a slight tingling in her crotch area. Once again she convinced her mind that this was normal and attributable to the erotic nature of the marble statue she was looking at. Small electrical waves moved the fabric, massaging her mound. It tickled and pressed against her outer lips. Helen sucked in a quick breath and walked to the other side of the statue for a closer look. It was so smooth, the woman's breasts were so round and firm. Then Helen noticed that her own breast were beginning to tingle. Damn... She had forgotten about the remote control bra that she was wearing. Helen imagined that she was the woman on the pedestal, kissing her lover passionately. A feathery tickle traced a line underneath her breasts, moving towards her areolae. She caught herself humming with pleasure, and made the throat clearing noise again. She closed her eyes and looked at the sculpture in her mind. She could feel her nipples tighten as the lacy fabric feathered and teased them. Helen's vulva ached as her nipples became fully erect. She heard a faint whisper in her headphones... "Tsk, tsk, tsk..." As she opened her eyes, she could hear her heart beating against the foam padding of the headset. The sensual tickling stopped. Helen wiped her brow and left the room.
It was in this room that she came face to face with a life size copy of Ingres' Grande Odalisque. Helen swallowed hard for she knew that this painting would be her undoing. The erotic painting was of a nude woman back turned to the observer, it had a soles shot and she was holding a feather duster like fan. It clearly contained all of her secret fetish interests which were combined into one painting. Alex caught up with Helen and took his usual place in the corner of the room. Helen was aroused already, never mind any further stimulus from the remote control clothing she was wearing. The woman's face in the picture was calm and inviting. She held the feather "duster" low around her legs, daring you to take it from her. There was no question that the woman in the picture was ticklish and horny. Likewise, there was no question that Helen would feel and experience, right here and now, all those sensations. Once again, it was all too easy for her to mentally project herself into the painting.
Helen stared at the soles in the picture just as the familiar electric tingle, criss-crossed her own soles. Helen wiggled her toes as much as she could within the confines of her shoe. The toes in the painting looked so ticklish. Helen stifled a giggle as her bra began to silently buzz against her smooth skin. Her skin tone was very much like the woman's in the painting. Helen could feel her nipples harden, which of course made the bra tickling worse. Even though the woman's nipples didn't show in the painting, Helen knew that they would have been very much like her own, firm and erect. Helen was trapped in the painting, she was losing her identity through the external stimulation. Her crotch began to tingle. The woman's buttocks were so invitingly firm and round. Helen ached to take that feather duster and tickle them. Helen could feel the steady pulses against her mons pubis. Helen quickly sat down on a bench that was in front of the picture. All three articles of clothing were now activated, tickling and teasing her incessantly... and that painting... it was also teasing her, but she couldn't take her eyes off of it... so hot... SO HOT!
Then a faint voice whispered in her ear...
"Come on, you know you want to..."
Helen could just barely in take the sensory overload, now this...
"Does she tickle you?" the voice egged her on.
Feathery electric tickles raced up and down her sensitive crotch.
"Your such a horny ticklish little slut, aren't you?"
"yes... " Helen whispered under her breath... "I..."
The fabric gently tickled her labia majora apart.
"You want to cum, don't you?", the voice chuckled softly.
Helen whispered softly, "Please..."
"I don't know, I'm having too much fun right now you know."
Helen's eyes were beginning to tear up as the tickling became more and more pronounced.
"Now you don't want that, do you... in front of all these people?"
"Mmmmm......"
It was becoming more and more apparent that Helen could no longer keep her feelings to herself as she interspersed guttural moaning with the suppressed giggles. The patrons around her were beginning to take notice too and they stopped and stared at her as the ticklish panties teased her labia minora into erection. Helen started to giggle and pant. She wanted to touch herself, but that would look perverse. Besides, the closer she was to orgasm, the less she cared what the other people were thinking.
"She must really like this picture," A little girl said to her horrified mother. The mother grabbed the child by the hand and made for the exit. Helen folded her tortured body into a reclining position on the bench. The panties began to feverishly lick at her clitoris, making light tickling motions, stroking her engorged clitoris back and forth faster and faster.
"Cum for me, cum for me baby..." Alex whispered in her ear.
Helen had no choice, and she was glad to oblige. The orgasm came fast and hard. The mad tickling on her soles... her nipples... her tumescent clitoris. The erotic painting staring down at her complacently.
Helen savored every pulse of each contraction.... she began to pump her pubic bone up and down, as though she was fucking an invisible lover.
"Ooooh.... Oh... my God..... Oh My God..... MY GOD!!!!!!!.... SHIT!!!!!"
Her clit ejaculated clear fluid, which soaked her panties... her legs twitched, then every muscle in her body tightened....
"AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!
Helen tried to laugh, but not a sound was heard. She was too physically and emotionally spent.
Alex came in his pants too. Some men as well as a few of the women in the room also experienced something special.
Nobody in that room ever doubted the power of art again.
------------
The next installment is here: http://www.tickletheater.com/showthread.php?t=69877
Last edited:
