Sometimes when you want to move forward you have to start at the beginning…
This story contains adult content, please no one under the age of 18. Thank You.
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Sarah’s Confession: The Death of Friendship part II
By:JJ82284
You know what? I really hate friendships! No, it’s true. I mean come on think about it… They’re more like prisons than actual ‘relationships’ when you really look at it. Everything you do or don’t do, everything you say or don’t say-whatever- it’s always about keeping the friendship alive right? Nobody ever really takes any CHANCES. Usually, the person that you are friends with usually cares more about what you’ll THINK instead of what you really NEED. And for me it’s even worse when I am the one that’s too scared to get out of my own way.
For some reason I always have to be the little tough girl you know? I can never just let go and be me, or find out who ‘me’ really is… That really sucks when you’re friends with someone you actually care about. When you feel something so much for someone and you’re too afraid to show them, then it’s like there is this huge weight that comes over you whenever they’re around them. Even if you loose touch, or worse give up hope-the pile of bricks on your chest just keeps getting bigger and bigger. Then the guilt starts to hit you... You already feel the weight of your repressed feelings and then you feel even worse for keeping them from your friend-pile that on top of the already unbearable pressure and I swear sometimes it feels like you might just get crushed alive!
The really sad part is that it’s very rare that this kind of burden is ever lifted… REALLY lifted! Because if you ever want to be free of the marble walls suffocating you, then you would have to risk letting your FRIENSHIP die!
That’s not an easy task. It’s even scarier than it sounds, trust me I know. Sometimes the fear of losing your feelings for your friend is nothing compared to the fear of losing your friend! All in all, while you’re stuck in your little glass house unable to really touch the one you care about-then you can’t help but just feel so ‘Disenchanted’!
Hi, my name is Sarah. My FRIEND’S name is Jim and we have known each other for ages, ever since college. Now that I stop and think about it, it’s really weird that Jim and I are such good friends. I mean we are about as opposite as two functional homo-sapiens can be. I’m an editor for an edgy alternative fashion magazine. I am always looking for the next trend breaking look to set me apart from the competition. My attorney friend Jim only has two three piece suits that he wears to court every other day. I’ve got six beautiful tattoos that express my artistic side-he won’t even buy a new tie for crying out loud. And I think my nose ring is pretty cute, but I don’t know how well it matches his tie clip.
I still call him my friend because I am still trying to process what just happened. Wait, did something happen? I’ll let you be the judge, but we’ll get to that later. At any rate, I had to tell someone. Don’t worry, he can’t hear us. He is still downstairs on the phone. Even in the middle of life shattering events Jim still has to play “MR. Professional!” That’s all the same. I really need some time to clear my head before we have “the talk!” You know the talk about how things are changing… if they’re changing.
It all started when he came over for dinner last night. I honestly don’t know why Jim makes such a habit of eating at my place. I mean he cooks far better than I do. I guess now it kind of makes more sense, but you can decide for yourself. He had just finished writing his summation for his client… his MURDER CLIENT. Even I have to admit, Jim’s probably one of the best defense attorney’s in Chicago (and if I hear that you told him I said that I will personally kill you). His senior partners have been penciling his name in the company’s charter for years now. With centuries of legal experience at his beck and call Jim always spends his time preparing to go before a jury bustling through his stack of papers on my couch gobbling up whatever semblance of food I put in front of him.
It may not seem all that rationale on the surface. I mean the only real experience I have reviewing legal documents is trying to worm my way out of a speeding ticket, but you have to remember that my talents far exceed my exposure… hehe. With the whole world lined up to tell Jim how wonderful he is, I think someone has to keep him in line… That’s why I see it as my purpose in life to be his trusted voice of BRUTAL HONESTY! As if I didn’t have enough to edit already but for a friend like him I don’t mind. Hey, free entertainment right! At least it used to be free…
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I don’t think any of this would have happened if he didn’t wear that tie. Jim’s undergrad major was psychology. When he’s really sure of himself he wears this bright red tie to represent his power. I mean come on… It’s so juvenile. Does he really think people will see him as a stronger more imposing figure just because of the color he picks out for some accessory? I really hate the fact that it works! Sometimes it’s something that subtle that you notice and it changes the way you see a person or awakens a truth inside. I mean… I’m a girl remember? Who wouldn’t notice a powerful young man sitting on her couch anxiously awaiting her honest opinion hanging on her every word? Just how powerful I didn’t realize but that’s what we’re here to find out…
I was actually taken back a little when I saw him walk in. For someone as conservative as Jim his idea of adding flare is a starched blue shirt with a white French collar but hey, one step at a time. Pop psychology accessories aside Jim is a very imposing figure, about 6’4” as a matter of fact. Usually he towers over me a little but not today. I broke out the three ½ inch heel ankle boots to even things a little. I threw in a nice form fitting pair of jeans and a tight black blouse. Judging by the look on his face when he walked in I guess I looked rather fetching. He’s surrounded by nothing but little twigs in his office with all his secretaries and assistants. Every once in a while I feel the need to show him that more full figured women are just as attractive.
I always feel so nervous when I read Jim’s work. I mean he’s very intelligent, that’s one of the things I like about him. Sometimes I almost feel intimidated (that’s a big ALMOST!) I take my time to read and pick through every little thing just to keep things on an even keel. I mean that’s my job you know?
Somehow despite the overflow of legal experience at his firm, I am always the one who can find the most flaws in Jim’s opinions. I know I know, you must feel REALLY sorry for my staff at the magazine but trust me they’re well compensated. No matter how perfect his work is I always try to find a better way to say this, a split infinitive here, or a useless paragraph there. Ok Ok… I’ll admit that I can be a tad bit harsh, but I’m sure his clients appreciate it in the end. I tell myself that’s what Friends are for.
As usual, in addition to my proof reading services I am the designated food provider. I had to start both tasks simultaneously in the kitchen so excuse me if I got a few slices of onions on a couple of Jim’s pages. I guess not even ‘I’ am perfect. My family has always believed that meat should be less cooked and more nurtured over long periods of time with low heat and brought to simmering perfection so I knew I would have plenty of time to go over his opinion before we actually sat down to eat.
I set the roast in the oven and bring the last few pages of his summation as I sit next to him on the couch. As I scoot next to him I can feel his piercing eyes burning holes through what he calls my ‘librarian’ reading glasses. He’s waited all day to hear what I think and I can tell it’s really eating at him.
Don’t tell Jim this but I had actually finished reading while I was still in the kitchen. Sometimes I like to pretend I’m still reading just to make him a little more anxious and raise the level of suspense. I love seeing that worried look on his face as I take stock in his most treasured work. Sick I know but hey, that’s just who I am. But there was something a little different this time. I caught a wonderful new musky fragrance in the air as I sat next to Jim on the couch. Did he actually buy some new cologne? That’s strange. He’s probably going out somewhere after we’re done eating. That’s Jim, always trying to impress someone.
Jim’s one of the few people who could actually keep up with me in writing class back at State and he never misses a chance to show it. His latest work up is no exception. I can tell that he took special care preparing it. When I can’t keep up my naughty little façade any longer I turn to him and he has that proud look on his face of a Job well done… well almost done. I mean it’s great and everything-he quoted everyone from Nathaniel Hawthorne to God himself. There’s a reference from just about anyone over the last two centuries who had anything to say about guilt versus innocence, but still, there’s just something MISSING.
“How many people do you think have heard of Hawthorne?” I think you get my point…
“Sarah, I think you’re missing the point, what I’m trying to do is to…” Even if Jim didn’t right away.
“Just answer the question Jim, How many people do you think have actually read Hawthorne, or have this extensive a knowledge of the Bible?” I was dead serious but I don’t think Jim realized it. He was staring at me in the oddest way. It was like he was looking at my glasses more than he was looking at me. It didn’t make any sense; well it didn’t make any sense at the time. It makes perfect sense now.
“It’s not important that they know where the quotes came from, It’s important that they carry the message that I am trying to present.” He’s almost cute when he gets all defensive. But he should really know by now that it’s not going to do him the least bit of good. I’ve made up my mind…
“People don’t give a shit about logical messages, Jim. You know that better than anyone. People need emotion and something they can connect with. This isn’t some law paper. You are trying to convince twelve people that a man doesn’t deserve to die, not that you are the best at looking up obscure quotes in books they never read. These Twelve people didn’t go to law school and don’t care how many fancy quotes you can find. They only care about feeling safe when they go home at night, and that you’re client if set free won’t be the one to hurt them.” Sometimes you just have to be bold, direct, and to the point. Jim’s a big boy. There’s no point in coddling him now. I think that this world would be a much better place if everyone made a pact to just be flat out and BRUTALLY HONEST with each other.
“You can’t be serious Sarah, I spent days preparing this.” If I wasn’t swayed by Marcus Aralias does he really think the whole lost puppy dog thing is going to work? I mean Geez; you’d think he’d learned his lesson by now hehe.
“Well a few more won’t hurt you. You do want your client to LIVE don’t you?” Ok, that might have been a little across the line. I mean it is bad enough that I get such a twisted little thrill out of criticizing him. I guess I don’t have to be so mean about it do I? But anyway, I could tell by the conciliatory look on his face that he realized I had a point, even he though I was getting far too much of a KICK out of this.
Then comes the STARE! I was just sitting there, minding my own business, sipping my tea and I can feel Jim burning holes through my cheeks with those piercing eyes of his. You have to know Jim to understand. You see, Jim’s a ‘PLEASER!’ No matter what the obstacle, how many waves, piranha, whatever; he’s always going to try his best to have everyone in the entire world bend over and kiss his behind and tell him what a good boy he is. That’s fine and all, but with him it’s a little worse than that. It’s not enough that his personal assistant or one of his junior partners tells him how GREAT he is… Ever since we met he has this undying need to please ME!
I guess it’s the whole male taming of the untamable thing or whatever you want to call it. Whatever it is, all I know is that every time I give a simple innocent and honest opinion about his work without an accompanying love note to his ego I sit here drinking tea and he sits there with ‘THE STARE!’ Usually I take pity on him and let him get away with it until we change the subject, but something got into me today. I mean if we’re going to stay friends then we’re really going to have to get past this!
“What?” I can feel my whole ‘stern’ thing coming on. It would take the girls down at the magazine to really explain that. “If you wanted someone to lie to you and stroke your ego I think that you came to the wrong door,” I can see the little twinge of surprise in his expression now. He really wasn’t expecting this. (I LOVE CATCHING HIM OFF GUARD!) I usually give him at least a little respite from my constructive criticism, but not today. “You’re a big boy you can handle it. I’m more worried about the life of your client than the way that you feel about me telling you the TRUTH about what you WERE going to say to twelve ordinary people. You’re a smart boy it won’t take you long to rewrite it.”
I can’t believe I’m saying this… But that felt SOOOO GOOOD. Yeh yeh, I know he’s my friend; he’s looking to me for validation and support and my honest opinion and blah blah blah! That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one that has to sit here with his stupid tie, cologne, starched shirts, creased pants, DIMPLES and general lawyer boy way of carrying himself. I mean someone has to put him in his place right? Ok.. even I’ll admit that’s a little ‘COLD’ but he has enough warm and fuzzy in his life. I’m here to give him balance!
“You’re amazing you know that.” He’s persistent I’ll give him that. A little over confident in his writing style, but my Jim is never one to back down.
“Yeh, yeh I know! I know I’m a loudmouth who always says exactly what’s on her mind. Let the world beware. Some people might not like it, but hey it’s who I am. That’s the price I pay for being me I guess.” I said it so casually. I don’t think I had the slightest idea just how right I was, but like I said we’ll get to that. For now, let’s just say that it’s very easy to plant the seeds of evil.
“It could be worse. Some Guy could get really pissed off and decide to get you back.” I stopped drinking my tea immediately and looked him right in the eyes. Those words really struck a chord. Jim’s cruel intentions needed no clarification. You know, he should really feel guilty for how much he has playfully tickled me over the years (and I’m VERY ticklish), but hell-I deserve it.
“DON’T YOU DARE!” I said it with as much false bravado as I could muster, but there was no hope. I knew what was coming. Still, I defiantly lowered my arms in anticipation of his silly little attack. I’m not going down without a fight.
“Don’t What?”
“You better not tickle me, I’m serious I am NOT in the mood.” After all these years you’d think that as smart as I am I would have figured out that my little ‘STERN VOICE’ just makes him want to tickle me more. Like I said, Jim’s a pleaser. He’s always looking for little things to try and make me smile-which I very rarely do. Tickling is one of the few activities guaranteed to make me smile, but I HATE giving him the satisfaction. I can’t stand being all helpless and giggly. I’m a tough girl remember?
“Okay okay, what do you think I am?” Hands up in full surrender I can see him standing down… VICTORY! “Could you hand me my papers? I would like to use it as a road map for the NEXT version.”
You know the sick part… I actually believed him. I needed the sick thrill of his compliance so badly that I ignored anything having to do with reality. It’s really too easy for lawyers to lie with the truth.
“I’m glad that you see the light, trust me you won’t regret it. Frankly you’re better than what you wrote, but it does show real POTENTIAL.” Even if I really was off the hook, that would have done it. Jim HATES that word… ‘Potential!’ He’s usually so conservative and subdued, but when you say it just right he gets so insulted so defensive so fiery so intense so passionate so… UGGGGGGGH! Anyway, I picked and shuffled together the pages of his ROUGH DRAFT and handed it to him victoriously.
I think out of the corner of my eye I could see that look in his eyes, but it was too late. He didn’t even bother taking the paper out of my hand. He just pinned my outstretched left arm against the couch with his right side and pounced on me (the silly little girl with a major Hubris problem.) I let out an initial squeal, but then I tried as hard as I could to keep my composure as his left hand began lightly probing and tickling my right side. I could feel the electric tickles coursing through my squirming torso but I just grit my teeth in defiance. I so wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of hearing me giggle.
“You’re such a Fucking Liar!!!” I just screamed at him at the top of my lungs. And he is a FUCKING LIAR ‘hand me the papers!’ I tried desperately to bat his left hand away but it had a radar lock on my trapped right side. Then I see it, that big shit eating grin on his face. I know he’s just playing with me now. This is his favorite game in the world, but I’m going to try my best to spoil it for him.
“You know you can’t make me laugh…ohhhhhhhhh!” See, I told you I deserve it. I might have gotten off with a few playful pokes but that’s just not me. I have to throw it in his face. I know what he wants and he can’t fucking have it. Not if I have anything to say about it. I can see the merciless rage double and triple behind his piercing eyes. Like I said, Jim loves a challenge.
He didn’t have to say anything. He has me right where he wants me. Sitting facing him with my left arm trapped against the couch I just desperately held on to the childish notion that I can fight him off literally with one hand as he gently toyed with his prey. My heart skipped a beat when I saw his evil right hand beginning to stir. I knew there wasn’t a thing I could to stop him and the malevolent grin on his face clued me in that Jim knew it to. You know I really can’t blame him for playing these sick little games but come on folks, shouldn’t there be at least some kind of rules?
“Eeeeeeeeep!” I almost break with his wiggly fingers dart to my helpless left side. I let out a little squeal at his new assault, but I’m not done yet. He’s going to have to do a lot better than that. My thrashing in response to his menacing little tickles becomes vicious. I’m not going to just sit here and let him play havoc with my nervous system.
To my credit I actually did a pretty decent job keeping his left hand away from my sensitive stomach and ribs, but I don’t think he was really trying all that hard yet. The worst part for me was that it hadn’t really gotten bad yet… Jim was just teasing me. He was making it last.
“So I can’t make you laugh huh?” He thinks he’s so big and bad with his stupid little tie on. See, I told you someone needs to take him down a notch. I grab him tightly around his left wrist and pin his villainous hand to my thigh and look him right in his vicious eyes.
“NO, YOU CAN’T.” In some twisted way I think Jim really LOVES seeing me like this: so confident, such a tease, such a smart ass. Whenever we have one of our little tickle fights I can tell he relishes my defiance. I mean he kind of relishes it. It’s really the stripping it away part he gets into, stripping it away SLOWLY!
Jim’s a strong boy. He pushes me down hard onto the couch with my arm still pinned next to me. Then he pins my entire upper body against the cushions with his massive body weight. I knew then that I wasn’t going anywhere! My legs were still hanging off the edge of the couch but that wasn’t going to do me a bit of good. He has my entire heaving torso helplessly trapped for whatever wicked little fun he can think of. It’s an intoxicating rush of power to feel someone holding you down tightly, breathing on top of you, alive with sadistic rage that YOU caused inside them just by being a smart ass.
I may have been utterly helpless, but I was far too proud to admit it. My eternal defiance persists, manifested in the desperate struggling against my ‘captor’ kicking and thrashing as much as my straining muscles can bear. Really, this just serves as the perfect inspiration for Jim’s nimble fingers and evil desires, but don’t feel too sorry for me. I deserve it.
Both of his strong arms are free to explore any ticklish part of me. Jim must have done this to me a thousand times before, but for some reason today I am very conscious of his broad shoulders, the way I’m so helplessly pinned beneath his massive form, and the intoxicating scent of his new cologne. It’s almost too hard to concentrate, but my rebellious instincts have me on defiant autopilot against his torturous tickles. With all his throwing me around, poking and prodding I have only rewarded him with a half smirk. I know that my refusal to smile is taken as a direct insult to his perfect lie of self importance. I can plainly see that I’m only making things worse for my ticklish situation, but I can’t help it-it’s who I am.
“CHEATER!” My voice is just dripping with mock anger; even I know that I deserve this deep down. I can see the look of wretched anticipation and venomous excitement in his piercing brown eyes. Jim is so serious all the time, I think he really needs to let go.
“That’s Mr. Cheater to you young lady!”
‘Young Lady,’ who does he think he is? Just because he’s bigger and stronger than me doesn’t mean I have to put up with this. His infuriating little insults only make me fight harder against him as he prepares for his next diabolical caress.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Jim sneaks his right hand up to lightly spider tickle my neck. I really can’t stand that. Now this is just unfair. I mean everything else I understand but my neck should REALLY be off limits. I have to choke back a giggle just to keep up my façade, but judging by his malignant grin Jim can see the crack in my armor. He’s having WAY too much fun with this. He’s still not being too deliberate; I guess he’s not done with me yet. But psychologically I know exactly what he can make me feel on my neck and the first cool trickle of playful fear tingles along my very trapped spine.
As the light teasing tickles of my vulnerable neck continue I start really fighting to get my left arm free. When I try to bat his hand away with my right hand that only leaves my side wide open and he snakes his free hand UNDER MY SHIRT to lightly tickle my stomach and massage my sides. Jim always takes a very twisted form of pleasure in forcing me to make really FUCKED UP DECISIONS. The duality of the sensations is almost too much to bear. I was starting to feel the beginning of the end, but I wasn’t quitting yet. My pride had me slithering like a snake from side to side trying desperately to escape at least one of his menacing tickles in a futile effort to deny him my cherished laughter. I grit my teeth and hold my breath desperately fighting a battle that I know I lost when I said he had ‘POTENTIAL!’
“Heh-----------hehe--------UGGGGGGGGGGGGH-----hehe-------nnnnnnnnnnnnn-----hehe!” Finally, my precious dam started to show audible signs of breaking. The first few giggles escape my quivering lips and that only served to further embolden him. I can feel him raging above me. I know it’s was only going to get worse from there. I can tell just by the way he was breathing that he gets such a sick thrill seeing his little control freak starting to lose it in front of him.
“Which one Sarah, You’re neck or your sides?”
See, I told you-FUCKED UP DECISIONS. I met his iniquitous inquiry with an angry grunt between tortured giggles. The verbal teasing is the worst. I might be able to take losing, but why do I have to hear about it? And of course lawyer boy just loves throwing it in my face. He knows how ticklish I am and he loves making me realize it. I know he gets a corrupt little rush watching me flail my free arm deciding which sensitive area to feebly protect. There’s only one appropriate response in such an utterly hopeless situation stuck between a rock and a tickle spot.
“Fuck yoUHOHOHAHAHA Hehehehehehe”
“AHAHAHA HAH AHAHAHAH AHAH AHAAHA AHHHHHHHHHH AHAHAHAHA HAHAHA HEHEH EHEHEHE EHEHEHE EHEHEHHAHAH AAHAHA AHAH AHAHAAHAHAHA!” I hate SURPRISES! It’s pretty much over when reaches down with both hands to ruthlessly squeeze my hips. It’s all about timing with Jim. He always waits until I’m in mid insult to tickle my worst spots. I know he loves nothing more than to see me laugh (especially when it’s because of him.) It’s like some twisted kind of music that lets him know he can do something right in my eyes-even though I will never freely admit it.
The sick little game of dangling my childish giggles in front of him faded away as I became lost in the sea of hysterical cackles. My desperate struggles took on an even more impassioned hue as the ticklish agony became truly unbearable. I kicked my legs violently, I bucked against him with every shred of strength I had, and I yearned for any slither of freedom I could manage, or even the slightest fleeting reprieve from my torment. My confidence and defiance was lost in an unending sea of giggles while I thrashed helplessly to get away from his merciless torment. The thing that I hated most was looking up at his sick sadistic grin watching him revel shamelessly in my suffering.
Jim tortured me a few more minutes, just to make sure I got his POINT. Reluctantly, having had his fun he unpinned my left arm and let me up. I could actually feel a tear streaming down my left cheek and I fought to wipe it away as fast as I could but it was too late, I know he saw it. He’s REALLY proud of himself now.
“Awwwww, what’s the matter is the little baby ticklish?”
Geeez! I don’t even taunt him that ruthlessly… Okay maybe I do, but that’s beside the point. It still pisses me off!
“You know you’re an Asshole.” I playfully punch him in the arm as I try to straighten out my shirt. That’s what he gets for tickling me like I’m some little school girl.
“You’re brutally honest and I tickle you for it. What a pair we make, you and I.”
He just sits there, so innocently, as though he had done nothing wrong, as if I would really just let him get away with it. Doesn’t he know what he just did to me?
“So, how was work today?” And now he is going to try and just change the subject?
“You know it’s really MEAN to tickle someone like that.” I could tell that my playful tone caught him a little off guard.
“Oh come on, you’re a tough girl. You can take a lil tickling, can’t you? And it’s not exactly nice to invalidate someone’s hard work in 30 seconds either. I guess that means we’re even.” Okay, so maybe he had a point, but there was no way in hell I was going to let him know that!
“That’s right I am a TOUGH GIRL; that’s why I’m never going to LET you tickle me again.” In hindsight, this may not have been the brightest idea, but you know me. I’m not one to go down quietly.
“Really? You’re never going to LET me?” God, I hate that evil leer he has some time. What am I? Some ticklish mouse lost in a field or something?
“Nope!” I just kept shaking my head back and forth. I could feel the teasing grin on my face as he drew closer to me. I was openly challenging my big bad attorney and there was nothing he could do about it. Or at least so I liked to believe.
“Hey whatever, the last thing I want to do is get beat up by a magazine editor. The guys at the firm would never let me live that one down.” And he better damn well know it! Hehe! I could feel the sly smirk of victory crossing my full lips once again!
“That’s RIGHT! I wouldn’t want to have to EMBARRASS you.” You know I just had to gloat. I don’t know what happened; maybe a radioactive spider bit me after he just got through tickling the crap out of me. I don’t know what it was but it really excited me to play the defiant little tough girl who wasn’t going to be tickled anymore. I just turned casually to look for the remote control on the stand next to the couch, fully confident that my handsome little slave boy would keep his wandering hands to himself for a change. It’s funny, looking back I wonder how long I really thought that fantasy would last… hehe.
“So you’re not going to let me tickle you anymore?” I barely had time to think. He just grabbed both my legs, pulling them up onto the couch and me, face down, closer to him. He pounced on top of me, pinning me tightly under his massive form face down. Hehe… I just knew he couldn’t resist a Challenge!
He pinned both of my arms above my head with his strong hands and he straddled the backs of my thighs. I was trapped, very trapped. (Fun is fun… but I made sure not to slide my ass too close to him, after all, we’re just friends.) I could feel his face lowering closer and closer to mine. Surprisingly I still had this insatiable smile plastered across my face and I just knew he would try and make it bigger.
“Hehehe, NO, I’m going to use my superpowers to throw you off me, just you wait.” I just can’t resist. I love pushing his buttons too much, hearing the shock in his heaving breath when, despite my helpless predicament, I am still as rebellious ever. I know that I am really going to GET it now, but that’s okay; I DESERVE IT. I make a promise to myself that no matter what I’m not going to give in. If he wants to hear me laugh or make me squirm, he is going to have to fight for every second.
“HAHaHAHAHAHAHahahahahahAHAHA HEHEHEHEHE h hahaHAHAHAHEHAEHEHEHE!” Apparently, Jim missed the whole radioactive spider seminar and decided to show me just how mortally sensitive my hips ticklish are. He didn’t even give me time to breathe; he just started digging into my supple skin, both hands, full tickle.
It was amazing; there was nothing I could do to fight off the horrible sensations shooting through my now thrashing torso! I just started laughing and screaming right away! So much for my little ‘promise’! He knew that I wanted to hold back my hysterical laughter, like I usually do, but I guess he wasn’t in the mood for games. I could tell by his mischievous little chuckle in the background that this was his time to try and show me who’s boss!
“So you’re sure you’re not going to let me tickle you anymore?” He just gets SOOOOOO full of himself sometimes! Doesn’t he remember that I’m supposed to be the smart ass?
“Hhhehehehehehehehheheheheheeeeeeheheh NEVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!” I can tell that he was soooooo enjoying himself. I mean, I’m a strong girl, if I do say so myself, and being so horribly ticklish s only brings it out worse. I tried as hard as I could to push his stupid hands away with my flailing arms, but that proved to be rather futile. Man, he’s focused! But that’s okay, because so am I!
“Oh well, that’s a relief. That means I can never do this again.” I was really in for it when he put his strong tickly hands down the front of my jeans (the POCKETS! We’re just friends, people!)
“OH SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIT!!! NOT THERE hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaah” I tried as best I could, but let’s be honest: this kid’s had practice. The violent ticklish sensations coursing through my pelvis were just horrific; I couldn’t help but cry out. I hate giving in, begging, giving him what he fucking wants. I know there’s a part of him that needs to see the vile sarcastic bitch suffer for always criticizing him, but I REALLY hate letting him have it.
And the much bigger problem was my subtle indulgence thrashing against my best guy pal. I mean, I have never been accused of having a small behind before, and in a fit of ticklish agony I can’t really control what PARTS of him I rub against, can I? A few times when I got really wild I could have sworn that I could feel his enjoyment, but that couldn’t be! We’re just friends. The only time that he gives me any rest is to taunt me. He leans in close resting his cheek against mine just to cast sadistic whispers into the burning ears of his conquered prey. I swear he can be really EVIL sometimes…
“So, what do you think about my summation now?” He lets me breathe for a few seconds, and I just sucked in much-needed air. I know that this is just part of his sick game, to let me have just enough rest that he can prolong my torture…
“You know, I think it REALLY SUCKED!!” But truth be told, I can’t help but play along! Hehe. I mean, even if I apologized he wouldn’t have stopped, right? So what’s the point? And besides, it’s such a naughty little rush to be so bad in the face of certain ticklish torment.
I gritted my teeth in anticipation of the next torturous tickle, but nothing could have prepared me for the ten wiggly fingers slithering underneath my shirt probing my hyper-sensitive ribcage. There was definitely something different about Legal Boy today. He was a tad more SADISTIC than usual. I could feel his fingertips spidering wickedly against my soft, supple skin and all I could do was squirm from side to side beneath him. I could feel his confidence brimming with every violent contraction or ticklish spasm that he caused. He was REALLY enjoying this! Even though I knew I couldn’t stand another second, what’s a good friend to do?
“It heheheheheheheeheehe REALLY REALLLLLLLLLLLLLLY hehehehehe SUCKED hhahahahahaahahahahaahahahaha NOT THE RIBS.. hehehehehehehehehe ehehehe YOU ohhohohohohohohohhohooh WENT TO hohohohohoohohoh LAW SCHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL?” Oh that did it… I was getting to him before, but that was the last straw. With every second that passed Jim was just making my helpless torture worse, much worse.
And no matter how much he made me scream, I wouldn’t give in. I was still going to be his evil little smart ass no matter how much I had to suffer for it, and that infuriated him to no end. I could feel myself getting lightheaded but it wasn’t from the endorphins or lack of oxygen: It was power, unadulterated power. I could make him FEEL, and that made me feel really SPECIAL…
“HAHAHA HAH HUUUUU UUUU HUUUUUUUUU HMMMMMMM----- OHHHH SHIT… HUUUUUU!” Jim stepped back from the couch and just flipped me over onto my back. Like I said, I’m a thick girl; I was very surprised at how easily he tossed me over from side to side(pleasantly surprised, actually!) My evil captor straddled me once again. His strong legs’ trapped my toned thighs as a warm greeting ensuring that I had absolutely no escape from what was coming to me…
Jim looked down at me in tortured excitement at my open rebellion. He just let my chest heave up and down as I tried desperately to regain at least some of my lost strength. I was out of breath, gasping for air, and SMILING. I told you I love to push his buttons.
“Are you ready to apologize yet?” I’ll give him this: he’s persistent.
“HELL NO!” I couldn’t help but shout at him. I just casually wiped away the fiery red hair plastered to my forehead. I know what you’re thinking. To be honest even I was wondering whose side I was on. I was doing a pretty good job getting myself into all kinds of trouble for him. Some people may call this behavior flirtatious; some may call it suicidal. Hehe, but I just call it being ME.
“Okay then, Let’s count Sarah’s RIBS!”
I instinctively pull my arms down to my side in the classic don’t tickle me posture and of course walk right into his vicious trap. Jim quickly wrapped his left arm tightly around my torso, pinning both of my arms to my sides and pulling me sternly into his thick chest. Then my sick sadistic FRIEND exploited my oldest and most devastating weakness: my ultra ticklish NECK! I could feel his free hand spidering and teasing all along my neck and shoulders, forcing wave after wave of ticklish agony to wash over my thrashing form.
“HAHAHAHAHASH HAHEEEHEEHEHEH EHEHEHEHEA HEAHHEH AEHAEHAEHAEHAE!” Normally I hate giving him the satisfaction of my girlish little giggles, but this was especially maddening. Pinned so tightly against him, I was forced to laugh deliriously right into his thirsting ear, and I could tell I was just fueling the monstrous fire inside him.
“Are you sorry?” As you can see… he’s trying to teach me a lesson…
“Noeheheheheheheeheheheheheheehheehehehheh” And I haven’t learned a THING!
“How about now?” Just to keep me off balance he reached back down to squeeze my tender hips again.
“NOOOOOO HEHEHEHA HAHAHA HAHAAHA HAHAHAHA!” I couldn’t help but buck violently against him and scream out in helpless laughter. It seemed as though my entire ticklish form was at his merciless disposal. I could barely breathe but with gritted teeth and eyes screwed shut I was still holding on. No matter how bad it got I was going to get through this…. Or so I thought….
“Tickle, Tickle, Tickle!”
See I told you, Jim’s such a fucking cheater. And he had to whisper it right into my ear with that warm sweet breath of his… hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. ANYWAY!
“Okay okay heheheheheheheheheheheheh I’m sorry.” The physical torture was bad enough, but baby talk just crosses the line! I mean, it just makes everything tickle so much worse and feel so intense… that was just a little bit too much. For the sake of our FRIENDSHIP I just let him win…
“SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT.” And of course he has to rub it in!
“IM SORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRYY heheheheheh” Finally, after what feels like forever, he lets me up. I’m a mess: hair gone wild, glasses gone crooked, shirt wrinkled, face flushed red, gasping for air. What can I say? Jim does do good work (sometimes).
“WATER…” is all I can say. I should tell him what a sick sadistic jerk he is, but judging by the evil little smirk on his face, I know that would only stroke his twisted ego. To his credit, even in the midst of his torturous rage, Jim was still good enough to go fetch me a bottle of water from the fridge.
Even when it’s for a good cause—like not ruining our FRIENSHIP—I hate losing. I mean I can’t stand it anymore than I can stand Lawyer Boy getting his rocks off turning me into a giggly little school girl. I could see him from the corner of my eye, striding to the kitchen like he had just won some fucking game show. I hate laughing… you know what I mean? I can’t stand laughing for him… at his command like I am his ticklish little puppy or something. I even hate myself for giving him his satisfaction!
At times just like this when I can’t take back all the maniacal cackling I fought so hard to withhold, there’s only one thing that gives me comfort. Jim might be able to steal a giggle or two by poking me in the side from time to time, but there’s one thing Lawyer Boy still couldn’t have: the truth. He can have my begrudged ticklish thrashing on occasion, but he can’t have my naughty little secret, the one that I have been keeping from him for so long: Of all the things I despise about Jim always tickling me, the thing I find most infuriating is that he never tickles me ENOUGH!
I know, I know… It’s so sick, depraved, deviant, TWISTED: the uptight bitchy control freak magazine editor who loves nothing more than to be tickled silly by her mean best friend. Trust me, I have spent hours and hours pondering just how truly screwed up I am. That’s why it’s my little secret.
I couldn’t help but steal a glance at him in the kitchen. He looked so different. He was missing his usual veneer of pretense and STRUCTURE. His tie was a little crooked, his shirt a little ruffled, and a gentle sheen of sweat was forming from all of his torturous exertion. I could see that his breathing was still a little elevated, and for some strange reason that made me feel really good!
I always feel like I am drifting on Cloud Nine when Jim gets through tickle torturing me, but today there was just something ELSE. I mean he always taunts me and teases me for being such a smart ass, but today it felt so much more personal, more intimate. It’s like he was looking down into the very core of me and making me pay for it, no matter how much it made me scream! I mean, Jim never lets go like that when he tickles me, at least in real life anyway. Whatever it is that’s making him so aggressive, there’s no way that I am letting it go to waste!
I could feel the devious little grin creeping across my face as my plan took shape. I propped both of my legs onto the couch with my knees resting against my chest. Jim trotted rather triumphantly back to the couch handing me the bottle of water as a consolation prize for my participation. I take a long hard sip and notice that he can’t help glancing down at my cute little boots. And that’s when I knew I had him…
“What, no ‘thank you’???” The funny thing is that he looks like he actually MEANS it… God he’s such a tease.
“‘Thank you’??? It’s your fault that I’m out of breath and thirsty in the first place. You with all your TICKLING!” I punctuated playfully, kicking him in the arm with my boot. I could see the look in his eyes. I knew exactly what he’s thinking…
“Don’t kick me.” I can see the fury building again…
“Or what???” I can feel the butterflies dancing in the bottom of my stomach as I take my turn to tickle the dragon’s tail. I literally start shaking as I place my left boot against his right arm… Despite my best efforts the corrupt little smile on my face just keeps getting bigger and bigger… The anticipation is deliciously unbearable and I can see that Jim is in no mood for my defiance.
“I SAID… Don’t Kick Me!”
With that I pushed his arm with my boot and laughed at him from behind my librarian glasses. Just seeing the demonic look on his face sent warm waves of terror crashing through every inch of me.
“Huuuuuuuuuuuuu!” I gasped in feigned surprise as he viciously grabbed my left ankle, trapping my booted foot on his lap. Jim had finally lost it. He went straight for the zipper…
And then we heard it: SILENCE. No taunts, no teasing, no mean little tickle games. Just silence.
I was a little puzzled when he let go of my ankle, and my foot just lay there awaiting his ticklish invasion. I was so disheartened! You have to understand, I never get to have Jim tease and tickle my feet. They are always in sneakers and such. And they are so excruciatingly ticklish! That would be the perfect end to my secret little indulgence. Why was he stopping? I couldn’t let that happen!
I could feel Jim looking at me, my own eyes locked on my endangered foot. It felt as though time froze around this one single moment for all eternity. Eons passed with no movement, only silence. Then it broke, years of secrecy ended in a single, unguarded, earthy, breath of mounting excitement. That’s all it took for my precious little secret to die and for me to ‘FALL FOR HIM’ all over again…
Jim pulled me to him violently. I was so startled that I just dropped the bottle of water to the ground as though it never existed. He sat me firmly on his lap and just looked at me. I was lost in some kind of trance. I couldn’t hide behind my glasses anymore.
The look in his eyes told me all I needed to know as he peered deeply into my soul. I could feel him casting aside all the lies I had told him. Years of tension were buried as our lips met. This felt so right, as though we were made to fit in each others arms. I could feel the excitement building between our bodies. This was a kiss that was both long overdue and arriving perfectly on time. After all these years of getting in our own way, our breath finally melded into ONE!
One hand gently caressed my side, the other entangled in my long fiery hair. I delicately stroked the back of Jim’s neck as he returned my liberated passion. I couldn’t help but think, Is this a Dream? Can this really be happening?
Jim took a small break from my lips only to take refuge on my soft neck. In the midst of my final destruction my eyes were screwed tightly shut. From the abundance of my aching heart, my lips betrayed my growing truth as I whispered gently into his ear:
“I don’t want to wake up.”
His lips met mine again, our hearts were already together. I could feel his tongue against mine, and the electricity of sharing the same baited breath.
“Ahhhhhhhh------huuuuuu huuuuu---------ahhhhhhhhh---- huuuu huuuu” Then it started, all over again and for the very first time. Jim’s evil hand began spidering lightly at my waist line. I couldn’t help but squirm gently, trying not to break the kiss or giggle into him. I wasn’t really fighting him, but with the pleasure of so many years past flowing so freely through me, my trapped form couldn’t help but writhe in blissful madness. The taste of his mouth contrasting with his devious tickles was almost too much to take at once, but I just couldn’t get enough.
“Mmmmmmmm----hahahahahahahah------mmmmmmm huuuu huuuu hahahahaha---mmm” I could tell that he enjoys making me play his sick little games. He teased my supple waist persistently until finally my bubbly giggles filled both our mouths with our lips still intertwined.
“AHAHAHAHAHA---------- HUUUUU HUUUUU!” Suddenly, a more deliberate massage of my waist causes me to break from my captor, breathless.
“You know you don’t have to kick me if you don’t want me to stop tickling you, Sarah! It’s okay to like it!” Now I guess it’s his turn to be the smart ass.
“I don’t like it.” I’m lying to him. Eyes still shut. Breath erratic, I’m lying to him. I’m still hiding… trying to hide. Even when there is no escaping the truth, my defiance persists. Maybe if I don’t say it out loud… maybe then it’s not really true?
“Really?” I shudder as his strong hands start to lightly trail along my inner thighs. I can’t help but gasp in approval. It’s almost not fair. He has me, ALL of me! “You don’t like it at all? Not even a little?” He’s so teasing, so playful, but so confident, so dominating so… He’s never like this! I’m always the one in control. This must be a dream!
“Noooooooooooooooooo.” God, my voice is quivering now! Even when I am clearly broken I still have to hold his satisfaction like a prize. All confessions of themasochistic mind are wrapped in the blanket of a lie they need to have forcibly exposed. With every passing second the thrill of my hopeless seduction grew with no end.
“I think someone’s Lyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyying.” Sometimes the most intense form of torment is just a gentle whisper.
“I don’t like it,” my lips lie to him, but my body betrays me. As he continues his teasing trek along my toned thighs, my legs can’t help but move in time with his knowing hand.
“What do I get if you’re lying?” It’s so unfair. That is such an audacious question…
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmm” is all that I can manage in response. A lewd moan as Jim’s strong hand slowly massages my taut thighs. My quivering legs gently yield to his probing caress. He knows exactly what I want. I want to confess, but I can’t. The prize is truly not mine to give, it’s his to TAKE!
“If you’re lying I get to do WHATEVER I want to you, for as long as I want, no matter how much you SCREAM!”
As if those sinister words weren’t enough… My world almost ended with his playful punctuation: lightly scrambling his fingers across my heaving stomach. It caused me to stir, but it will take more than that to jolt me from his rhythmic trance. The weight of this never ending moment was just so overwhelming. I leaned against him for comfort. Almost ironic, the one place I feel truly safe is in the arms of my tormentor.
“OKaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay,” I literally moaned into his ear. What was happening to me? Agreeing to a wager that was long since decided with terms beyond the unthinkable. The truth has long since been told and received. Our relationship has changed in ways I have only dared to dream of. All that remains now is to complete MY fantasy.
I gasp in horror as he begins to unbuckle my pants. Jim’s a good lawyer. He knows that when you really want to prove a point you always use the most PERTINENT evidence. I know the result. We both do. And he’s taking his time. He’s not letting me off easy. I deserve this. Every time that I told him he wasn’t good enough, every sly remark, every time I dismissed him, all this time hiding…. I REALLY deserve this.
I can feel myself sighing nervously in dreadful anticipation as he parts the top of my jeans. If I opened my eyes I would probably be greeted by that wicked smile plastered across his face that I love so much. His hands slowly tease the waist line of my newly exposed lace undergarment. I am forced into moans and squeals of approval as my warm, nervous, and excited breath gently caresses his ear. He knows that I can’t bear to watch, so he makes me wait as long as he can stand. I deserve it.
“Mmmmmmm mmmmmmmm mmmmmmmm oh ggggggggg huuu huuuuuu mmmm”
After what feels like an eternity, Jim finally seals my fate, tracing the outline of the damp warmth that we all knew was there. My gasps, squeals, and squirming all began anew with this subtle torture. Now my secret is fully exposed as my supple rose is in full bloom. The score card, already won, has been turned in, but still my fantasy is not complete!
“Awwwwwwwwwww, someone’s a liar!” As if at all possible, I squeezed him even tighter. The implications of my predicament were truly sinking in for the first time. I knew what he was going to do to me. I have always known… I’ve dreamt of it for so long. My punishment would be long, slow, thorough, very sadistic, dreadfully unbearable, and violently delicious. The only question I had was whether or not my SANITY would survive…
“Look at me, Sarah,” For all the years that Jim had waited, I knew that he was going to enjoy this. I buried my head into his shoulder, shaking it back and forth, begging, and pleading for a reprieve from his gaze. I couldn’t look at him, not like this; and he knew it. That’s exactly why he would make me: because it’s what I needed.
“Look at me Sarah!” He won’t let me rest… He can’t let me rest. He’s always pushing me past the boundaries I set for myself, no matter how much I protest. Maybe he really is this perfect?
I reluctantly take my head from his shoulder. My arms are frozen. He brushes the hair gently out of my face even though I look away. I mean, I usually have such a dominant personality, in control all the time, so confident, so powerful, but now I am his, ALL his. His glorious prize was not made of gold or silver.
It was my pride: the pride that pushed him away for so long and that he had been too afraid to take before. But not today, not on the day that Fear dies.
I finally look at him. I can see the furious emotions swimming in his piercing eyes. In my wildest dreams, he has never looked so magnificent. His excited breathing lets me know how long he’s wanted this. I can see how afraid he was to let me in, to see the demon buried within. Now His fear is mine.
“What happens to liars, Sarah?” Such an innocent question, and under the circumstances that just makes it all the more sinister. He knows I can’t bear to say it out loud, but he’s still going to make me. It’s what he wants… I’m usually so full of words, now I sit before him speechless. The reversal of power warms places deep inside me, some I didn’t even know about.
I just stare back at him. He can tell that the words are caught in my throat. Could he blame me? Can you? It’s such an emotional transition, it happened so fast. How could I speak, even though I knew I had to?
“What happens to liars, SARAH?” All those years spent cross examining witnesses has really paid off. Jim knows all the right buttons to press as he guides me just where he wants me to go. This time he makes sure that I can see his evil little grin and how much he’s enjoying my mental anguish over my purchased confession. He knows that infuriates me. His hands start to lightly caress the top of my delicate stomach. He get’s oh so close to my precious peaks--just to frustrate me. “Come on Sarah, you’re such a SMART Girl, you have an answer for everything. I know you can tell me.”
That’s my boy!
He’s pushing me… and it’s working. As his fingers subtly help my utter hopelessness sink in, MY own evil grin starts to sneak back across my lips at the depraved thought of just making things WORSE!
“They get punished.” It’s a small step but a step nonetheless, but I am still barely able to say it above a whisper.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you!” Mmmmmmmmmmm that did it, that was enough. He was enjoying this way too much. His hands acting more deliberately now, making my situation all the more uncomfortable. With nothing left to defend I just let my instincts take over… and with that I finally let go!
“THEY GET PUNISHED!” Really, I’ve always known that my STERN VOICE excites him; let’s just say that now I am doing it on PURPOSE. I could feel him recoil at the change in my demeanor and I took the offensive. I straddled his lap and kissed him even more deeply than before. The initial shock of our transition was wearing off and I was free to enjoy the moment. I loved seeing his face encased with the subtle wisps of red hair dangling on his face as I kissed him deeply. Both my hands rested firmly on the couch behind him as used all the leverage I could to let him know how he REALLY makes me feel.
Jim being Jim, his sneaky fingers mischievously found their way to my open hollows. The electric ticklish jolt hit me immediately, but I started to fight just as quickly. Not fighting against them, fighting to TAKE IT. I wanted to enjoy the intimacy of our connection and the unbridled torment that I knew would accompany it from now on.
I just grabbed tighter and tighter onto the couch and the deep sea of giggles was stifled in the back of my throat as we shared our fevered breath. If he wanted the satisfaction of my wild ticklish laughter I was going to make him work for it. As if he read my mind, Jim made it as hard as possible for me to endure with his skilled fingers. After all, I deserve it.
“Hehe-------mmmmmmmm huuu huuu-------hehehe---mmmm” Even as my dam of laughter began to break, it only drove me to kiss Jim harder. There was no more hiding, no more games, I was letting him into the deepest parts of me, the parts that I kept hidden for so long, and that I had only dreamt he would understand.
“Ahhhhhhhhh------huhhhhhh huhhhhh----HAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHA!” As usual, when Jim really wants to break me I can’t resist. Teasing my sensitive neck with his devilish tickly fingers caused me to break the passion of our kiss and my hysterical laughter poured out audibly once again. I could feel the lust bubbling in the back of my eyes as I stared down at my loving captor. My growing lasciviousness was evidence of my second wind as the prurient look of malicious intent plastered across the face of my trapped tormentor let me know that my intense feelings were mutual.
I just leaned into him as I started kissing his neck and nibbling gently at his earlobes. I could tell that the feelings of my warm soft lips, moist rough tongue, and sharp teasing teeth were rousingly electric against his bare skin. I knew that the overwhelming display of my affection was driving him absolutely crazy and I wanted to make it worse… much worse. He had his fun, now it’s time for MINE!
“So you think you can PUNISH me, huh?” Words can barely describe the unadulterated rush of power washing over me. I could feel his hands caressing me desperately. At that very moment I was the center of creation. I could feel him trembling beneath me with every brush of my lips and every teasing defiance. His entire body shivered as my familiar tone returned and I took my new form. The sheer audacity of my words turned him on to no end and I was going to make the fires of his sadistic lust burn with the passion of a thousand suns.
“MMMMM, still defiant I see.” I could feel him drifting in his own little dream world as I shamelessly writhed on top of him. He had been dreaming of this for so long, how could I not oblige him?
“Silly boy. I will always be Defiant… Stubborn… and BITCHY… The only question is, what are you going to DO ABOUT IT, hehehe?” I was whispering right into the very core of him. I never knew that my laughter could be so sultry or that my teasing could feel so bold and seductive, but with my completion just in sight my instincts overwhelmed reason.
“Ahhhhhhh----Huuuuuuuuuuu huuuuuuuuuuu mmmmmmmm!” All at once, it happened so fast, he just threw me down on the couch. Feeling his brute strength overpower me and seeing that demonic look in his eyes, I couldn’t help but lick my lips invitingly as I looked up into his searing eyes.
He didn’t need to say anything. What more was there to say? Jim picked me up in his strong arms with almost terrifying ease. My eyes shot open with amazement. I wrapped my slender arms around his neck and my lips returned as well. He’s earned his prize well.
Jim rarely went into my bedroom, we were just friends. Now it’s HIS bedroom, and the sacred venue for my first REAL torture. I can feel it in his arms has he holds me tightly. So much rage, so much hatred, so much repressed lust, so much surging malice…. MMMMMMMMM. I knew he was going to take his time. I knew he was going to torture every fiber of my being, and I couldn’t wait. The thought of sensually paying for all my sadistic misdeeds guided me to the warm encompassing bath of erotic helplessness.
Having kidnapped me to his bedchamber, Jim just forcefully brushed my beddings aside. He must not have wanted them ruined by my desperate thrashing. He’s so thoughtful! And judging by the absolutely devious look in his eyes, I was sure that I most certainly would THRASH! Only a simple pillow is left to keep me comfort as he slammed me down onto the bed.
Even at the brink of certain merciless torture I still couldn’t resist tracing the tip of my boot along his inner thigh just to tease him. Like I said, I so deserve this. He takes off his tie, loosens his top buttons, rolls up his sleeves and sets about his business. It’s strange really. Before, I couldn’t look at him; now, as the warm oily lust begins to saturate my throbbing veins, I can’t bear to look away. I can feel an almost predatory evil swimming behind my eyes. My ever-defiant smile feels so seductive… so inviting.
“Hands against the Headboard!” Jim just twists his little ‘POWER’ tie between his strong hands foreshadowing my pending bondage. In truth more valuable possessions have been wasted on endeavors far less meaningful than this, but even still, such a personal gift for my torment is a very endearing touch. He snakes closer to me on the bed with a look of malicious determination. As he casually rewrites all of my darkest fantasies… what can I do but shake my head ‘no’ in playful defiance?
“Make ME!” Almost before I can finish, Jim grabs my teasing leg and pulls me to him. He pins me down beneath him, pressing my arms tightly high above my head. I am looking right into his fiery eyes, through my librarian glasses. I can see his raging desire to have his favorite plaything helpless before him. He holds my wrists in place as he begins to tie them. Just to fuck with his concentration I gently massage his growing arousal with my taught left thigh. As if he read my mind he just pulls back, playfully blocking my distraction. I can see the focus, that laser focus that makes him so perfect at what he does. He’s determined that I lie bound before him.
Jim slides me beneath him, pressing my wrists to the headboard, and I relish the sensation of his strong form pinning me down. Every nerve in my helpless being came screaming to life, awaiting the next ticklish invasion. He sternly tied the loose end of his mock rope to the bedrail. In kind, I began my mock protest. Pulling and straining against my new bondage, I’m not trying to get free, not exactly. In some sick way pulling futilely at the tight binding of my writs just reminds me how truly powerless I am in the wake of Jim’s growing malice. Fervently gyrating against my raging captor only adds to my carnal indulgence.
I’ve tested my bonds. I know that there is no escape. Ironically, being so utterly powerless brings me an eerie sense of calm as I fully realize my predicament. We’ll only get one shot at this really, one chance to do it right, one chance to consummate the change in our relationship forevermore. I just hope I don’t disappoint him. I have wanted this, just like this, for so long.
Our shared silence is deafening. I gently bite my lip as he straddles me; I need the subtle rush of pain just to remind me that something so sweet is really happening. He looks down at me with that evil leer that always precedes his malignant tickles. It’s met gingerly with my familiar confident smirk. I’m glad he still carries that infuriating air of confidence. His hubris is like an intoxicating spring of living water, freshly renewed as soon as it is consumed. Luckily, my thirst for his complete merciless tyranny has become quite insatiable, as evidenced by years of endless teasing, taunting, and heartless criticism that will most surely be brought to bear… HEHEHEHE!
“You know you have been REALLY mean to me over the past few years… This is what happens To Mean Girls Sarah!” It’s a corrupt jolt of screaming pleasure as he rips open my black blouse to emphasize his point. It’s so electric, I feel so wonderfully feminine in the wake of his dominance. I proudly present my heaving breasts locked in their black lace cage. His fingertips gently kiss my newly born skin and there is no escape. All I can do is close my eyes, moan deeply, and move in time with his teasing caress. I ball my hands into tight meaty fists in a futile attempt to deal with the blissful sensations that are invading my mind.
“Mmmmmmmmm, You promise? Ahhhhh---------------huuuu huuu--------!” This was surely the final ratification of my ultimate demise. My hands tied tightly above my head, my torso stretched taut, revealing my vulnerable ribcage. His gentle caressing turned to subtle probing as Jim begins to massage the soft skin gently into bone and the hyper ticklish hollows in between.
This is how it started, and this was inevitably how the end would begin: with his gentle teasing and my eternal defiance to give him the flowing girly laughter that I know now haunts his dreams. I try so hard for him, I think he knows that. It would be so easy for me to give in and surrender to the bubbly giggles building inside me, but I am fighting for him. I’m fighting because I know that deep down he loves to break me, really break me. I can only imagine the warm sense of omnipotence that each little triumph spurs deep within him.
“You better not laugh; otherwise it will get MUCH, MUCH WORSE!!!” Mmmmmmm our oldest game with a new little twist. He knows that the verbal teasing is the worst for me. He must see that plastered across my contorted face as the words hit gently home. Now he’s using my own defiance against me. He knows I want to retort, I want to scream, I want to get away, but if I move my concentration away from holding in the precious laughter prompted by his ever-quickening fingers, the precious dam will burst and then he will have won. It’s almost inhuman to cause such conflict within the mind of another, but trust me, I deserve this!
Without warning it happens, and my loving captor lets go completely. Somewhere deep within his blackening soul the panic switch has been flipped and the time for teasing has gone. And now the real fun can begin.
“MMMMMMMMMMM NNNNNNNNNNNNN HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHA NOOOO AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!”
I can feel his slithering fingers snake up to my naked porcelain hollows and I can’t move my concentration fast enough to account for the new configuration of fiery tickles. The burst of insatiable laughter is instant. I strain futilely against my simple bridle but Jim’s silk rope holds me fast as I endure my ticklish torment. There is no escape. My desperate laughter takes on a new tone. I didn’t anticipate this. Being bound, unable to get away makes things so much more intense. The fiery sensations coursing violently through my thrashing form are both eerily familiar and altogether alien. I must be three times more ticklish than usual.
“I told you it would get worse,” he said.
I wanted to say something, but he didn’t give me a chance. In truth I had years to say what I wanted to say. Now I guess he thinks it’s HIS TURN to do the talking. Both of his wicked hands danced lightly in my hyper-ticklish hollows. His nimble fingers gently circled the outermost rim of my sensitive armpits only to scurry furiously to the vulnerable hotbed of nerves that rest at their centers.
“Hahahhaahahahahahhahaahhhah AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ahahahahaha aHAHAAAAAAAAAAHA HAHAHAHAAHAHa hhhhhha ahahahahaha” My delirious laughter was pouring out like the River Jordan, giving new life to his evil intentions. Finally I could feel myself starting to scream. It was punctuated by my vicious struggles for freedom and thrashing my head back and forth desperately against the pillow. My cute little librarian glasses that he likes so much threatened to fly off in the wake of my mounting hysteria.
I have dreamt about this for so long, only now in the full flow of my merciless torment to understand the true splendor of utter helplessness. I could feel his vengeful hatred growing with each thoughtless stroke of his menacing fingers. He counted every shriek and every scream a sweet symphony to his ultimate superiority. The salty tears freely streaming down my face were the wax sealing the envelope of my undying submission. Finally, after all these years!
After a few more minutes Jim stops his cruel tickling of my helpless hollows just for a moment. I know it’s not out or mercy. He just doesn’t want his ticklish little toy to run out of air before he’s done with me. He so fucking sadistic, he wants the full breadth of my hysterical laughter for the full duration of my torment. Feeling the true depths of his depravity only draws me deeper and deeper into the raging darkness building beneath his polished veneer.
“Huhhhhhhhhh huuuuuuuuuhhh huhhhhhhhhhhh!” I lie there breathless, gasping in air desperately, the only recourse available for my burning lungs. I didn’t even need a blindfold. My eyes were still screwed tightly shut in horrid anticipation of his next heartless assault. I can’t bear to open them… I’m afraid-really afraid… afraid I might wake up…
“This is what happens to MEAN GIRLS, SARAH!!!” This is the anthem of my suffering. He can’t let me forget it. I have to be reminded vigorously how I make him feel with my cold criticism, tearing down the best of him, insulting his most brilliant ideas, tearing down his perfect lie. Now it’s his turn to be mean. Even as I regain my breath I can’t manage a reply. I know that every sick twisted rush of power that I felt tormenting him has to be accounted for. I have to PAY!
His knowing fingers once again return to titillate the bare flesh of my heaving torso. My supple helpless form begins to move in time again, not wanting to break the delicious discomfort of his teasing caress. I almost whimper as his fingers begin their vulturous circle around my trapped navel. Usually, this ultra-ticklish bed of nerves is guarded perfectly by some form of garment… but not TODAY. Now it’s bare for the whole world to see, made naked just to be HIS prey…
I hold my breath as the radius of the teasing circles around my helpless bellybutton grows shorter and shorter, but my hips can’t help but aid him in his insidious task. I can’t help but bring my soft sensitive skin closer to him so that he can fill my deepest desires.
“Heheheheehe heheheheheh heheheheheh hehehe…” My resolve washes away as I feel my body so utterly betray me. I can feel the steady stream of giggles vibrate helplessly through my pressed lips as his fingers lurk closer and closer to their ticklish target. Part of me wants to get away, get free, and stop him. But that sorrowed minority is quickly overruled by the burning lust within me that can’t wait for my torment to be renewed.
“HHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAAAHAHA HUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUU AHAHHAAHAHAH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HUAUAHAAHUAHAUAHAHAHAAHAHAAAHA!” New streams of belly laughter fill the room, his ears, and his utterly sadistic heart. Jim’s newest ticklish trespass is greeted by renewed desperate struggles as I buck violently against my captor. My body’s internal conflict plays out before him. Now I don’t have to hide the prurient desires that his mindless torture create between my writhing thighs. After all, we aren’t JUST FRIENDS anymore…
The mounting frustration is utterly unbearable. I can feel his excitement throbbing between his strong legs with every thrashing gyration. My pelvis rising to meet his massive body weight pleases my delicate warmth, but not in the way that I so desperately need. Now I know how he must have felt. Never quite getting the credit that he deserved, not matter how hard he tried to impress me.
“Come on Sarah, say something funny, say something smart, and tell me what I’m doing WRONG.” This is my fantasy… doesn’t he know that? He’s not supposed to enjoy torturing me THIS much… I never would have thought that he could take such possession of MY naughty little fetish, but I guess nothing is just MINE anymore. Now he just walks into my ticklish nightmares, adding his own form of torturous horror, and I can feel the moisture between my pressed thighs threatening to overtake me. I know he feels it too. His breathing is furious, dripping with his own carnal indulgence. It’s not often that I am at a loss for words.
“MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM HUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUU HUUUUU MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM HUUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUU!” My forced silence is like a badge of honor for him that I know will be worn on his heart always—even if it only lasts a few more fleeting moments. As he moves to massaging the points within my pockets, I let out a deep earthy moan born of my blistering passion.
This is more than just a flirty or even torturous tickle. This is a corrupt form of more deliberate stimulation. The front of my pelvic bone is naturally hypersensitive, but in my desperately aroused state the lewd feelings of merciless ecstasy are far more than I can handle. Torturing me carelessly with such murderous pleasure yields him all the impassioned feedback of needed approval that I have teasingly denied him for so long.
My back arches off the bed, my sighing giggles feverishly intertwined with sighs of fervid delight. My thirsting pelvis rises immodestly to increase the glorious pressure against my loving captor, but he coldly lifts up and away from me in utterly callous denial. The seeds of EVIL are easily planted! I know that he has waited years for the release from my cold torment; I guess I will have to wait a little longer for my release from his!
“What’s the matter Sarah? Is there something you WANT?” He just loves asking sick little questions he knows I know the answer to. It’s every lawyer’s secret pleasure. And today Jim has a VERY transparent witness on the stand, her confession has long since been signed.
“Oh My God mmmmmmmmmmmm huuuuuuu huuuuuuuuu mmmmmmm!” Words return to me again, if only briefly. He paused the torturous massage of my perceptive hip bone to make his was up to the head of the bed next to me. He let his sweet lips brush every so lightly against the soft skin of my bare neck. I shuddered silently. He knows what that does to me. He takes so much pleasure in causing me distress. He gently nibbles at my ear lobe kissing ever so softly. His warm breath teases me horribly as it slowly turns to a whisper…
“I’m sorry dear, GOD CAN’T HELP YOU RIGHT NOW.” I knew then just how far I had pushed him. He was going to torture me until there wasn’t a single shred of sanity left in the entirety of my helpless thrashing form. And you know what? I couldn’t fucking wait! I just licked my lips in lewd anticipation as the news of my continued plight hit softly home. I couldn’t bear to say it… but I can feel my lips mouth the words “Thank you.” God, I’m twisted!
With every passing second I belong to him more and more. Jim lets his evil fingers trail deliberately over the tops of my caged breasts as he climbs off of me and stands next to the bed. I let out a gentle frustrated sigh for my turgid nipples that suffer in silence beneath their lace cage, aching for his merciless attention. He’s walking now, and he doesn’t step lightly. He wants me to hear him walking. He wants me to hear every step as he walks confidently to the foot of the bed. He wants me to know that every step that he takes is one step closer to my greatest fear.
You have to understand, my feet are DREADFULLY ticklish. I hide them from the world in an endless array of boots, sneakers, and closed-toe shoes, but I can no longer hide them from HIM. I know this may seem to some as an overly cruel form of psychological torment as I lie helplessly in my bondage; but let’s be honest, I deserve it.
The walking stops at the foot of the bed, and my dread takes over. I feebly try to pull my delicate feet away from him, but his quick hands grab my pale ankles unapologetically. He has my ankles locked under one arm, while the other plays dangerously with the zipper to my left boot. I fidget uncontrollably with my legs trapped in his strong arms. I know what’s coming. He lets the evil game of endless anticipation continue for his own deviant indulgence. He’s in no rush. This isn’t one of my rigidly scheduled events, this is HIS TIME. He was going to use as much of it as he sees fit….
After what felt like an eternity, Jim finally came to his business: unzipping my left boot fully. He pulls gently at the heel, just moving it an inch or so. He runs his fingers teasingly along the top of my shoe…
“Is there a ticklish little foot in here? Come on… You can tell me!!!” I am beyond the ability to speak and he fucking knows it. My renewed futile kicks to free my trapped legs are the only defiance left in me: he’s seen to that. I also know that my most witty retort and an army of trained men couldn’t separate him from the task at hand. “I’ll make you a deal, if you can keep your shoe on, I won’t tickle your poor feet. OKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY?”
This is cruel. I have no chance. My hands are tied. My words are lost in a sea of emotion and unbridled sensations that I have never experienced before. I can barely muster the strength to kick my legs anymore. This is pure unmitigated torture right down to my very core…. And you know what?… I DESERVE IT!
I sneak my ticklish heel back into the protection of my flimsy boot with steady gyration. He knows I can’t help but play his twisted little games. It was a simple enough first test. I could feel the next playful tug at my heel and I scrunched my toes together as tightly as I could inside their protective footwear. I know it’s futile, but I’m trapped blissfully in the maddening circle of his torment. At this point I don’t really have much of a choice.
This time he pulls my endangered shoe a couple of inches from my tender heel. It’s a little harder for my helpless foot to make it back safely this time. He’s patient. He has all the time in the world and he is going to make me endure each torturous second. Just to add to my plight, before I can make it safely home Jim adds two very knowing fingers to tease the soft exposed flesh of my ticklish twitching heel through the mock protection of my flimsy white sock…
“Heheheheeeeheehehehe hehe huuuuuu huuuu huuuuu huuuu hheheheheheheheheheh eheheheh ehehehehehehehe HEEHEHEHE eheheheheehehe ehehehehe ehheeheheeheheheheh eHEHEEH eheheehehehehe!”
Even through the thin white sheath, the gentle caress of his nimble fingertips across the tender base of my hyper-ticklish sole is maddening. My gentle stream of repressed giggles is freshly renewed with his latest ticklish attack. My helpless foot wiggles, desperately trapped in his gasp. Feeling my entire bound form struggle so fruitlessly under his cruel caress sends waves of depraved helpless lust crashing through me. Hearing his sadistic aroused breathing and sick loathsome laughter reveling in my ticklish plight was the perfect backdrop to his evil game.
My foot jerked back, trying to escape his cruel touch. It’s no use, I’m trapped. The only thing it succeeds in doing is inching my precious protection further and further off my helpless heel. With every inch of socked ticklish skin exposed, Jim’s sinister attack goes higher and higher along the wrinkly trail of my sensitive trapped sole. He’s driving his laughing beauty closer and closer to the horrible prize that she has needed for so long.
Jim’s sinister ministrations are both sporadic and eerily steady as he slowly forces me to lose control. Finally, as his knowing hands find a trapped ticklish, arch my violently scrunching toes give up their desperate fight and my shoe falls delicately off my wriggling left foot. Jim brushes it off the side of the bed and the large clunk of my now useless boot hitting the ground serves as just another audible reminder that my ticklish fate was sealed a VERY long time ago.
“Uh oh, I think you dropped something, Sarah, ahahaha!”
I can’t help but cringe. He thinks he’s so fucking hilarious, doesn’t he? I’m supposed to be the one making fun of him! I guess it doesn’t feel quite as good when the shoe is OFF the other foot.
He bends down to bring my bared socked foot to his malicious lips, no doubt reveling in his last little victory. Much to my surprise, he takes in the deep aroma of my twitching sole. I can feel his body shaking in the wake of such intimacy as the delicate wafts of perspiration and scented lotion collide deep in the back of his mind.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm huuuuuuu huuuuuuu mmmmmmmmmmmm…” I couldn’t help but moan deeply as he started ardently kissing my delicate foot through my thin ankle sock. It was so electric… so fulfilling. In some strange way having my sadistic captor lovingly worship my trapped twitching socked foot made me feel wanted and sexy. I could feel my back arch slightly as his nose nuzzled between my wiggling toes and he kissed the length of my sole… This is perfect… so perfect…
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHHAAHA HAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHA AAHAHAHA HUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUUUUUU AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH!” Suddenly five merciless fingers invade my poor delicate sole. My tortured screams and hysterical cackles are both immediate and ear splitting. How could he catch me so off guard when I know all the evil things he wants to do to me?
Truthfully, my confidence has always been my undoing and Jim knows that. All he has to do is stroke my ego and wait for the opening. His heavenly worship of my socked sole had me drifting off in a warm bath of euphoria just so that sick ruthless bastard could rip me out violently with his maddening tickles… This really is Perfect…
Jim left my other shoe on just so he could watch me try in vain to protect my trapped ticklish sole from his merciless onslaught with my other foot. I fight, I kick, I scream, I try so hard for the least bit of respite from Jim’s merciless tickles, but with every careless stroke of my tender wrinkled flesh my struggles are rendered meaningless, invalidated, and not at all good enough to stop my loving captor from my endless torment.
“You know… Mean girls don’t get ANY protection, Sarah…” It stops as suddenly as it began and I let out the most pathetic whimper. I know without being told what comes next. My baited breath betrays the fact that I can’t wait. I bite down hard on my bottom lip just to feel the tiny twinge of pain in the wake of my helpless plight… I still have to know. I have to know this is real.
“HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!” I let out a deep gasp of delighted horror as he rips off my flimsy white sock. I can feel the cool crisp air caress the delicate bare skin of my naked sole as precursor to Jim’s tickly fingers. I can feel his hands trembling as he holds the object of his many obsessions before him. I can’t help but feel the tiniest twinge of corrupt satisfaction knowing that I am so going to PAY and pay dearly for keeping them hidden from him for so long. I even painted my toes his favorite shade of Dark Plumb (word to the wise, never let someone evil know what you REALLY like!)
“AHHHHHHHHH HUUUUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUUUU!” Without warning Jim unzips and rips off my other trapped shoe--which was minding its own business I might add--and the flimsy sock soon follows. I can feel the mounting fear coursing through my tortured veins like oily perfection as my entire body quivers in the wake of his raging perfection.
“What pretty feet you have my dear…” Now he finally has my tender ticklish bare feet all to himself… And there isn’t a thing I can do about it.
“Thank you…” I swallow hard and my voice barely returns. It quivers, dripping with the excitement at the ticklish horrors to come… Nowhere to run, no columns to proof, no deadline to keep. I am finally free to enjoy my deepest fantasies… How could I not repay him?
The dizzying cloud of furious arousal is slowly drifting over me, coasting me gently to blissful delirium. It’s the final act of kindness that I can muster, pointing my toes forward, scrunching my wrinkly bare soles, inviting his loving kiss. I can’t help it… I’m a tease to the very end. He tastes my wiggling feet gently. His rough tongue ever so softly caresses the very tips of my ticklish toes. I can sense the icy hot shivers trickling up and down his massive spine as he lovingly kisses and nibbles my sensitive skin driving me out of my mind…
“HEHHEHEHEHH MMMMMMMMMMM HUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUU HUUUUU HEEEHHE MMMMMMMMMM HUUUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUU HEHEHEHE HEHEHEEHEHE HEHEHEHE MMMMMMMMMM MMMMMMMMM MMMMMM!” A sultry moan can be heard between my flirtatious giggles of approval. He takes both of my big toes into his mouth and begins to suck gently, then harder, and harder still. I can feel his intensity mounting with each passing second. His feverish tongue probes desperately between my delicate digits. My moans and giggles merge into one long audible of pleasure… Seducing my malicious tormentor makes every fiber of my being feel so feminine, so desired, and so utterly content.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAAHAHAHAAAHHAHAAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAA HEHEHEHEHEHEHE EHEHEHEHEEHEHEHE HEHEHEHEEHEHEHE EHHEHEHEHEHEH EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEHEH!” Just as suddenly as it began, my gentle worship ended. IT was replaced by the demented tickle-torture that I have needed for so long…. He mindlessly scrabbles his free fingers over the helpless cringing flesh of my trapped ticklish soles. I can feel my desperate arousal begin to point within me as wave after wave of my maddening laughter is ripped from my burning lungs, crashing violently into his sadistic eardrums. In some twisted way I thoroughly enjoy every futile jerk of my legs twisting and churning, trying to free my ticklish feet from their much deserved fate.
Up and down, side to side, Jim spiders and rakes his devilish fingers along my most ticklish nerve endings. He teases my arches ruthlessly, the very centers of my trapped soles without mercy, the balls of my feet endlessly, and the base of my twitching ticklish toes without regard for my sanity.
I think the sickest part of all is that in the midst of such mindless ticklish torture, the only thought that can penetrate my tormented fog is how aroused he must be watching the mad dance of my wiggling bare feet with my slender ankles trapped in his torturous deadlock. All his years of waiting, anticipating, teasing, hoping, and dreaming were all coming to screaming fruition in this one perfect moment. This moment when…
“I’m sorry Sarah, I think I used the wrong TICKLE pattern that time… don’t worry though, I WILL DO IT AGAIN… hahaha!” He’s just so ruthless… I never thought that he would enjoy it this much, did I? I get lost in a trance, fixated on the sheer Havoc and Panic that I am forced to endure and sick masochistic joy that it brings deep within my being.
Jim finally, and quite reluctantly I might add, pulls himself away from my squirming bare feet. It only seems like seconds but through my teary fog the clock on the dresser reads a full fifteen minutes of ticklish torment for my trapped bare soles. Wow, I guess time really flies when you’re having FUN!
My delicious Demon looks up at me and I can’t help but return his malicious gaze. There is something newer still lurking behind his piercing eyes. A new sinister evil the likes of which I have never dreamed as he plays casually with the hem of my jeans. He can’t be serious… can he? The constant throbbing between my full thighs is the only thing reminding me that this is all very REAL!
He looks up at me so sweetly, so disheveled from our ordeal. I can only imagine what he must be feeling as he pulls down my tight jeans exposing the gateway to his perfection. He can see me; finally… he can see all of me. He can see the gentle beginnings of my eternal bliss. He can see my horribly erect nipples straining gently against their lace cage. He can see my sensitive peaks rise and fall as I desperately take in breath …
Just seeing that sick little twinge in his eyes I know that I should savor every last bit of air, for it is the last that he can give… As my jeans settle around my ankles I can see his fixation with the lacy wrapping of his greatest treasure: a pearl that has always been reserved for him and him alone. I know that he can see the moistness of my throbbing womanhood that has long since ripened from the excitement of my delicious torment.
I look down at his beautiful face, accented by the mindless twinkling in the back of his piercing eyes. I can’t help but envy the positively predatory smile adorning his sweet sadistic lips. Soon he will be able to take me, take me to the place that I have been so afraid to go that I even push him away with my harsh words and icy exterior. But now, after all this time, they just provide the fuel and inspiration for his sweetest cruelty that will lead to my most torturous pleasure…
He finally throws my jeans to the ground and crawls up to meet me. He lays each of my legs to one side and lies patiently between my spread thighs, gazing evilly at my vulnerable womanhood. Just the thought of such carnal danger renews my tattered breath as I begin to stir once more. My erotic trance breaks slightly and I can briefly interact with the world of the living, even though part of me is in a Much better place.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!” I watch mindlessly as Jim unclasps my bra. He finally frees my large breasts that have been straining desperately against their lace prison this whole time. My cherry tipped peaks are calling… yearning to be caressed, teased, and tickled.
“HUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUU…” My breath catches as I see his strong knowing hands approach my delicate sensitive mounds. I hold my breath for what feels like an eternity until his gentle fingers kiss the bare delicate skin of my supple breasts. I close my eyes. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes inside me. I’m lost in an unending sea of earthy moans as my sadistic tormentor mercilessly fondles my bare heaving peaks… he keeps his wandering fingers teasingly away from my straining stiff nipples almost on purpose. This must really be a dream…
“Does that feel good, Sarah?” Making my body cry out isn’t enough. I have to SUFFER!
“Yesssssssssssssssss!” I give in… it’s all I can do. It’s all I have left.
“Am I doing anything wrongggggggg?” It’s sick, it’s twisted, and it’s exactly what I need.
“No no…..mmmmmmm please don’t stop.” He’s mine. Finally, after all this time, He’s mine.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stop?”
“Yessssss.”
“Then you have to do something for me…”
“Anything, just please don’t stop!” Please… such a small word, but yet such a big step for a control freak like me.
“Tell me that you like it, Sarah!” His voice was so stern, so icy, so demanding...
This story contains adult content, please no one under the age of 18. Thank You.
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Sarah’s Confession: The Death of Friendship part II
By:JJ82284
You know what? I really hate friendships! No, it’s true. I mean come on think about it… They’re more like prisons than actual ‘relationships’ when you really look at it. Everything you do or don’t do, everything you say or don’t say-whatever- it’s always about keeping the friendship alive right? Nobody ever really takes any CHANCES. Usually, the person that you are friends with usually cares more about what you’ll THINK instead of what you really NEED. And for me it’s even worse when I am the one that’s too scared to get out of my own way.
For some reason I always have to be the little tough girl you know? I can never just let go and be me, or find out who ‘me’ really is… That really sucks when you’re friends with someone you actually care about. When you feel something so much for someone and you’re too afraid to show them, then it’s like there is this huge weight that comes over you whenever they’re around them. Even if you loose touch, or worse give up hope-the pile of bricks on your chest just keeps getting bigger and bigger. Then the guilt starts to hit you... You already feel the weight of your repressed feelings and then you feel even worse for keeping them from your friend-pile that on top of the already unbearable pressure and I swear sometimes it feels like you might just get crushed alive!
The really sad part is that it’s very rare that this kind of burden is ever lifted… REALLY lifted! Because if you ever want to be free of the marble walls suffocating you, then you would have to risk letting your FRIENSHIP die!
That’s not an easy task. It’s even scarier than it sounds, trust me I know. Sometimes the fear of losing your feelings for your friend is nothing compared to the fear of losing your friend! All in all, while you’re stuck in your little glass house unable to really touch the one you care about-then you can’t help but just feel so ‘Disenchanted’!
Hi, my name is Sarah. My FRIEND’S name is Jim and we have known each other for ages, ever since college. Now that I stop and think about it, it’s really weird that Jim and I are such good friends. I mean we are about as opposite as two functional homo-sapiens can be. I’m an editor for an edgy alternative fashion magazine. I am always looking for the next trend breaking look to set me apart from the competition. My attorney friend Jim only has two three piece suits that he wears to court every other day. I’ve got six beautiful tattoos that express my artistic side-he won’t even buy a new tie for crying out loud. And I think my nose ring is pretty cute, but I don’t know how well it matches his tie clip.
I still call him my friend because I am still trying to process what just happened. Wait, did something happen? I’ll let you be the judge, but we’ll get to that later. At any rate, I had to tell someone. Don’t worry, he can’t hear us. He is still downstairs on the phone. Even in the middle of life shattering events Jim still has to play “MR. Professional!” That’s all the same. I really need some time to clear my head before we have “the talk!” You know the talk about how things are changing… if they’re changing.
It all started when he came over for dinner last night. I honestly don’t know why Jim makes such a habit of eating at my place. I mean he cooks far better than I do. I guess now it kind of makes more sense, but you can decide for yourself. He had just finished writing his summation for his client… his MURDER CLIENT. Even I have to admit, Jim’s probably one of the best defense attorney’s in Chicago (and if I hear that you told him I said that I will personally kill you). His senior partners have been penciling his name in the company’s charter for years now. With centuries of legal experience at his beck and call Jim always spends his time preparing to go before a jury bustling through his stack of papers on my couch gobbling up whatever semblance of food I put in front of him.
It may not seem all that rationale on the surface. I mean the only real experience I have reviewing legal documents is trying to worm my way out of a speeding ticket, but you have to remember that my talents far exceed my exposure… hehe. With the whole world lined up to tell Jim how wonderful he is, I think someone has to keep him in line… That’s why I see it as my purpose in life to be his trusted voice of BRUTAL HONESTY! As if I didn’t have enough to edit already but for a friend like him I don’t mind. Hey, free entertainment right! At least it used to be free…
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I don’t think any of this would have happened if he didn’t wear that tie. Jim’s undergrad major was psychology. When he’s really sure of himself he wears this bright red tie to represent his power. I mean come on… It’s so juvenile. Does he really think people will see him as a stronger more imposing figure just because of the color he picks out for some accessory? I really hate the fact that it works! Sometimes it’s something that subtle that you notice and it changes the way you see a person or awakens a truth inside. I mean… I’m a girl remember? Who wouldn’t notice a powerful young man sitting on her couch anxiously awaiting her honest opinion hanging on her every word? Just how powerful I didn’t realize but that’s what we’re here to find out…
I was actually taken back a little when I saw him walk in. For someone as conservative as Jim his idea of adding flare is a starched blue shirt with a white French collar but hey, one step at a time. Pop psychology accessories aside Jim is a very imposing figure, about 6’4” as a matter of fact. Usually he towers over me a little but not today. I broke out the three ½ inch heel ankle boots to even things a little. I threw in a nice form fitting pair of jeans and a tight black blouse. Judging by the look on his face when he walked in I guess I looked rather fetching. He’s surrounded by nothing but little twigs in his office with all his secretaries and assistants. Every once in a while I feel the need to show him that more full figured women are just as attractive.
I always feel so nervous when I read Jim’s work. I mean he’s very intelligent, that’s one of the things I like about him. Sometimes I almost feel intimidated (that’s a big ALMOST!) I take my time to read and pick through every little thing just to keep things on an even keel. I mean that’s my job you know?
Somehow despite the overflow of legal experience at his firm, I am always the one who can find the most flaws in Jim’s opinions. I know I know, you must feel REALLY sorry for my staff at the magazine but trust me they’re well compensated. No matter how perfect his work is I always try to find a better way to say this, a split infinitive here, or a useless paragraph there. Ok Ok… I’ll admit that I can be a tad bit harsh, but I’m sure his clients appreciate it in the end. I tell myself that’s what Friends are for.
As usual, in addition to my proof reading services I am the designated food provider. I had to start both tasks simultaneously in the kitchen so excuse me if I got a few slices of onions on a couple of Jim’s pages. I guess not even ‘I’ am perfect. My family has always believed that meat should be less cooked and more nurtured over long periods of time with low heat and brought to simmering perfection so I knew I would have plenty of time to go over his opinion before we actually sat down to eat.
I set the roast in the oven and bring the last few pages of his summation as I sit next to him on the couch. As I scoot next to him I can feel his piercing eyes burning holes through what he calls my ‘librarian’ reading glasses. He’s waited all day to hear what I think and I can tell it’s really eating at him.
Don’t tell Jim this but I had actually finished reading while I was still in the kitchen. Sometimes I like to pretend I’m still reading just to make him a little more anxious and raise the level of suspense. I love seeing that worried look on his face as I take stock in his most treasured work. Sick I know but hey, that’s just who I am. But there was something a little different this time. I caught a wonderful new musky fragrance in the air as I sat next to Jim on the couch. Did he actually buy some new cologne? That’s strange. He’s probably going out somewhere after we’re done eating. That’s Jim, always trying to impress someone.
Jim’s one of the few people who could actually keep up with me in writing class back at State and he never misses a chance to show it. His latest work up is no exception. I can tell that he took special care preparing it. When I can’t keep up my naughty little façade any longer I turn to him and he has that proud look on his face of a Job well done… well almost done. I mean it’s great and everything-he quoted everyone from Nathaniel Hawthorne to God himself. There’s a reference from just about anyone over the last two centuries who had anything to say about guilt versus innocence, but still, there’s just something MISSING.
“How many people do you think have heard of Hawthorne?” I think you get my point…
“Sarah, I think you’re missing the point, what I’m trying to do is to…” Even if Jim didn’t right away.
“Just answer the question Jim, How many people do you think have actually read Hawthorne, or have this extensive a knowledge of the Bible?” I was dead serious but I don’t think Jim realized it. He was staring at me in the oddest way. It was like he was looking at my glasses more than he was looking at me. It didn’t make any sense; well it didn’t make any sense at the time. It makes perfect sense now.
“It’s not important that they know where the quotes came from, It’s important that they carry the message that I am trying to present.” He’s almost cute when he gets all defensive. But he should really know by now that it’s not going to do him the least bit of good. I’ve made up my mind…
“People don’t give a shit about logical messages, Jim. You know that better than anyone. People need emotion and something they can connect with. This isn’t some law paper. You are trying to convince twelve people that a man doesn’t deserve to die, not that you are the best at looking up obscure quotes in books they never read. These Twelve people didn’t go to law school and don’t care how many fancy quotes you can find. They only care about feeling safe when they go home at night, and that you’re client if set free won’t be the one to hurt them.” Sometimes you just have to be bold, direct, and to the point. Jim’s a big boy. There’s no point in coddling him now. I think that this world would be a much better place if everyone made a pact to just be flat out and BRUTALLY HONEST with each other.
“You can’t be serious Sarah, I spent days preparing this.” If I wasn’t swayed by Marcus Aralias does he really think the whole lost puppy dog thing is going to work? I mean Geez; you’d think he’d learned his lesson by now hehe.
“Well a few more won’t hurt you. You do want your client to LIVE don’t you?” Ok, that might have been a little across the line. I mean it is bad enough that I get such a twisted little thrill out of criticizing him. I guess I don’t have to be so mean about it do I? But anyway, I could tell by the conciliatory look on his face that he realized I had a point, even he though I was getting far too much of a KICK out of this.
Then comes the STARE! I was just sitting there, minding my own business, sipping my tea and I can feel Jim burning holes through my cheeks with those piercing eyes of his. You have to know Jim to understand. You see, Jim’s a ‘PLEASER!’ No matter what the obstacle, how many waves, piranha, whatever; he’s always going to try his best to have everyone in the entire world bend over and kiss his behind and tell him what a good boy he is. That’s fine and all, but with him it’s a little worse than that. It’s not enough that his personal assistant or one of his junior partners tells him how GREAT he is… Ever since we met he has this undying need to please ME!
I guess it’s the whole male taming of the untamable thing or whatever you want to call it. Whatever it is, all I know is that every time I give a simple innocent and honest opinion about his work without an accompanying love note to his ego I sit here drinking tea and he sits there with ‘THE STARE!’ Usually I take pity on him and let him get away with it until we change the subject, but something got into me today. I mean if we’re going to stay friends then we’re really going to have to get past this!
“What?” I can feel my whole ‘stern’ thing coming on. It would take the girls down at the magazine to really explain that. “If you wanted someone to lie to you and stroke your ego I think that you came to the wrong door,” I can see the little twinge of surprise in his expression now. He really wasn’t expecting this. (I LOVE CATCHING HIM OFF GUARD!) I usually give him at least a little respite from my constructive criticism, but not today. “You’re a big boy you can handle it. I’m more worried about the life of your client than the way that you feel about me telling you the TRUTH about what you WERE going to say to twelve ordinary people. You’re a smart boy it won’t take you long to rewrite it.”
I can’t believe I’m saying this… But that felt SOOOO GOOOD. Yeh yeh, I know he’s my friend; he’s looking to me for validation and support and my honest opinion and blah blah blah! That’s easy for you to say, you’re not the one that has to sit here with his stupid tie, cologne, starched shirts, creased pants, DIMPLES and general lawyer boy way of carrying himself. I mean someone has to put him in his place right? Ok.. even I’ll admit that’s a little ‘COLD’ but he has enough warm and fuzzy in his life. I’m here to give him balance!
“You’re amazing you know that.” He’s persistent I’ll give him that. A little over confident in his writing style, but my Jim is never one to back down.
“Yeh, yeh I know! I know I’m a loudmouth who always says exactly what’s on her mind. Let the world beware. Some people might not like it, but hey it’s who I am. That’s the price I pay for being me I guess.” I said it so casually. I don’t think I had the slightest idea just how right I was, but like I said we’ll get to that. For now, let’s just say that it’s very easy to plant the seeds of evil.
“It could be worse. Some Guy could get really pissed off and decide to get you back.” I stopped drinking my tea immediately and looked him right in the eyes. Those words really struck a chord. Jim’s cruel intentions needed no clarification. You know, he should really feel guilty for how much he has playfully tickled me over the years (and I’m VERY ticklish), but hell-I deserve it.
“DON’T YOU DARE!” I said it with as much false bravado as I could muster, but there was no hope. I knew what was coming. Still, I defiantly lowered my arms in anticipation of his silly little attack. I’m not going down without a fight.
“Don’t What?”
“You better not tickle me, I’m serious I am NOT in the mood.” After all these years you’d think that as smart as I am I would have figured out that my little ‘STERN VOICE’ just makes him want to tickle me more. Like I said, Jim’s a pleaser. He’s always looking for little things to try and make me smile-which I very rarely do. Tickling is one of the few activities guaranteed to make me smile, but I HATE giving him the satisfaction. I can’t stand being all helpless and giggly. I’m a tough girl remember?
“Okay okay, what do you think I am?” Hands up in full surrender I can see him standing down… VICTORY! “Could you hand me my papers? I would like to use it as a road map for the NEXT version.”
You know the sick part… I actually believed him. I needed the sick thrill of his compliance so badly that I ignored anything having to do with reality. It’s really too easy for lawyers to lie with the truth.
“I’m glad that you see the light, trust me you won’t regret it. Frankly you’re better than what you wrote, but it does show real POTENTIAL.” Even if I really was off the hook, that would have done it. Jim HATES that word… ‘Potential!’ He’s usually so conservative and subdued, but when you say it just right he gets so insulted so defensive so fiery so intense so passionate so… UGGGGGGGH! Anyway, I picked and shuffled together the pages of his ROUGH DRAFT and handed it to him victoriously.
I think out of the corner of my eye I could see that look in his eyes, but it was too late. He didn’t even bother taking the paper out of my hand. He just pinned my outstretched left arm against the couch with his right side and pounced on me (the silly little girl with a major Hubris problem.) I let out an initial squeal, but then I tried as hard as I could to keep my composure as his left hand began lightly probing and tickling my right side. I could feel the electric tickles coursing through my squirming torso but I just grit my teeth in defiance. I so wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of hearing me giggle.
“You’re such a Fucking Liar!!!” I just screamed at him at the top of my lungs. And he is a FUCKING LIAR ‘hand me the papers!’ I tried desperately to bat his left hand away but it had a radar lock on my trapped right side. Then I see it, that big shit eating grin on his face. I know he’s just playing with me now. This is his favorite game in the world, but I’m going to try my best to spoil it for him.
“You know you can’t make me laugh…ohhhhhhhhh!” See, I told you I deserve it. I might have gotten off with a few playful pokes but that’s just not me. I have to throw it in his face. I know what he wants and he can’t fucking have it. Not if I have anything to say about it. I can see the merciless rage double and triple behind his piercing eyes. Like I said, Jim loves a challenge.
He didn’t have to say anything. He has me right where he wants me. Sitting facing him with my left arm trapped against the couch I just desperately held on to the childish notion that I can fight him off literally with one hand as he gently toyed with his prey. My heart skipped a beat when I saw his evil right hand beginning to stir. I knew there wasn’t a thing I could to stop him and the malevolent grin on his face clued me in that Jim knew it to. You know I really can’t blame him for playing these sick little games but come on folks, shouldn’t there be at least some kind of rules?
“Eeeeeeeeep!” I almost break with his wiggly fingers dart to my helpless left side. I let out a little squeal at his new assault, but I’m not done yet. He’s going to have to do a lot better than that. My thrashing in response to his menacing little tickles becomes vicious. I’m not going to just sit here and let him play havoc with my nervous system.
To my credit I actually did a pretty decent job keeping his left hand away from my sensitive stomach and ribs, but I don’t think he was really trying all that hard yet. The worst part for me was that it hadn’t really gotten bad yet… Jim was just teasing me. He was making it last.
“So I can’t make you laugh huh?” He thinks he’s so big and bad with his stupid little tie on. See, I told you someone needs to take him down a notch. I grab him tightly around his left wrist and pin his villainous hand to my thigh and look him right in his vicious eyes.
“NO, YOU CAN’T.” In some twisted way I think Jim really LOVES seeing me like this: so confident, such a tease, such a smart ass. Whenever we have one of our little tickle fights I can tell he relishes my defiance. I mean he kind of relishes it. It’s really the stripping it away part he gets into, stripping it away SLOWLY!
Jim’s a strong boy. He pushes me down hard onto the couch with my arm still pinned next to me. Then he pins my entire upper body against the cushions with his massive body weight. I knew then that I wasn’t going anywhere! My legs were still hanging off the edge of the couch but that wasn’t going to do me a bit of good. He has my entire heaving torso helplessly trapped for whatever wicked little fun he can think of. It’s an intoxicating rush of power to feel someone holding you down tightly, breathing on top of you, alive with sadistic rage that YOU caused inside them just by being a smart ass.
I may have been utterly helpless, but I was far too proud to admit it. My eternal defiance persists, manifested in the desperate struggling against my ‘captor’ kicking and thrashing as much as my straining muscles can bear. Really, this just serves as the perfect inspiration for Jim’s nimble fingers and evil desires, but don’t feel too sorry for me. I deserve it.
Both of his strong arms are free to explore any ticklish part of me. Jim must have done this to me a thousand times before, but for some reason today I am very conscious of his broad shoulders, the way I’m so helplessly pinned beneath his massive form, and the intoxicating scent of his new cologne. It’s almost too hard to concentrate, but my rebellious instincts have me on defiant autopilot against his torturous tickles. With all his throwing me around, poking and prodding I have only rewarded him with a half smirk. I know that my refusal to smile is taken as a direct insult to his perfect lie of self importance. I can plainly see that I’m only making things worse for my ticklish situation, but I can’t help it-it’s who I am.
“CHEATER!” My voice is just dripping with mock anger; even I know that I deserve this deep down. I can see the look of wretched anticipation and venomous excitement in his piercing brown eyes. Jim is so serious all the time, I think he really needs to let go.
“That’s Mr. Cheater to you young lady!”
‘Young Lady,’ who does he think he is? Just because he’s bigger and stronger than me doesn’t mean I have to put up with this. His infuriating little insults only make me fight harder against him as he prepares for his next diabolical caress.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Jim sneaks his right hand up to lightly spider tickle my neck. I really can’t stand that. Now this is just unfair. I mean everything else I understand but my neck should REALLY be off limits. I have to choke back a giggle just to keep up my façade, but judging by his malignant grin Jim can see the crack in my armor. He’s having WAY too much fun with this. He’s still not being too deliberate; I guess he’s not done with me yet. But psychologically I know exactly what he can make me feel on my neck and the first cool trickle of playful fear tingles along my very trapped spine.
As the light teasing tickles of my vulnerable neck continue I start really fighting to get my left arm free. When I try to bat his hand away with my right hand that only leaves my side wide open and he snakes his free hand UNDER MY SHIRT to lightly tickle my stomach and massage my sides. Jim always takes a very twisted form of pleasure in forcing me to make really FUCKED UP DECISIONS. The duality of the sensations is almost too much to bear. I was starting to feel the beginning of the end, but I wasn’t quitting yet. My pride had me slithering like a snake from side to side trying desperately to escape at least one of his menacing tickles in a futile effort to deny him my cherished laughter. I grit my teeth and hold my breath desperately fighting a battle that I know I lost when I said he had ‘POTENTIAL!’
“Heh-----------hehe--------UGGGGGGGGGGGGH-----hehe-------nnnnnnnnnnnnn-----hehe!” Finally, my precious dam started to show audible signs of breaking. The first few giggles escape my quivering lips and that only served to further embolden him. I can feel him raging above me. I know it’s was only going to get worse from there. I can tell just by the way he was breathing that he gets such a sick thrill seeing his little control freak starting to lose it in front of him.
“Which one Sarah, You’re neck or your sides?”
See, I told you-FUCKED UP DECISIONS. I met his iniquitous inquiry with an angry grunt between tortured giggles. The verbal teasing is the worst. I might be able to take losing, but why do I have to hear about it? And of course lawyer boy just loves throwing it in my face. He knows how ticklish I am and he loves making me realize it. I know he gets a corrupt little rush watching me flail my free arm deciding which sensitive area to feebly protect. There’s only one appropriate response in such an utterly hopeless situation stuck between a rock and a tickle spot.
“Fuck yoUHOHOHAHAHA Hehehehehehe”
“AHAHAHA HAH AHAHAHAH AHAH AHAAHA AHHHHHHHHHH AHAHAHAHA HAHAHA HEHEH EHEHEHE EHEHEHE EHEHEHHAHAH AAHAHA AHAH AHAHAAHAHAHA!” I hate SURPRISES! It’s pretty much over when reaches down with both hands to ruthlessly squeeze my hips. It’s all about timing with Jim. He always waits until I’m in mid insult to tickle my worst spots. I know he loves nothing more than to see me laugh (especially when it’s because of him.) It’s like some twisted kind of music that lets him know he can do something right in my eyes-even though I will never freely admit it.
The sick little game of dangling my childish giggles in front of him faded away as I became lost in the sea of hysterical cackles. My desperate struggles took on an even more impassioned hue as the ticklish agony became truly unbearable. I kicked my legs violently, I bucked against him with every shred of strength I had, and I yearned for any slither of freedom I could manage, or even the slightest fleeting reprieve from my torment. My confidence and defiance was lost in an unending sea of giggles while I thrashed helplessly to get away from his merciless torment. The thing that I hated most was looking up at his sick sadistic grin watching him revel shamelessly in my suffering.
Jim tortured me a few more minutes, just to make sure I got his POINT. Reluctantly, having had his fun he unpinned my left arm and let me up. I could actually feel a tear streaming down my left cheek and I fought to wipe it away as fast as I could but it was too late, I know he saw it. He’s REALLY proud of himself now.
“Awwwww, what’s the matter is the little baby ticklish?”
Geeez! I don’t even taunt him that ruthlessly… Okay maybe I do, but that’s beside the point. It still pisses me off!
“You know you’re an Asshole.” I playfully punch him in the arm as I try to straighten out my shirt. That’s what he gets for tickling me like I’m some little school girl.
“You’re brutally honest and I tickle you for it. What a pair we make, you and I.”
He just sits there, so innocently, as though he had done nothing wrong, as if I would really just let him get away with it. Doesn’t he know what he just did to me?
“So, how was work today?” And now he is going to try and just change the subject?
“You know it’s really MEAN to tickle someone like that.” I could tell that my playful tone caught him a little off guard.
“Oh come on, you’re a tough girl. You can take a lil tickling, can’t you? And it’s not exactly nice to invalidate someone’s hard work in 30 seconds either. I guess that means we’re even.” Okay, so maybe he had a point, but there was no way in hell I was going to let him know that!
“That’s right I am a TOUGH GIRL; that’s why I’m never going to LET you tickle me again.” In hindsight, this may not have been the brightest idea, but you know me. I’m not one to go down quietly.
“Really? You’re never going to LET me?” God, I hate that evil leer he has some time. What am I? Some ticklish mouse lost in a field or something?
“Nope!” I just kept shaking my head back and forth. I could feel the teasing grin on my face as he drew closer to me. I was openly challenging my big bad attorney and there was nothing he could do about it. Or at least so I liked to believe.
“Hey whatever, the last thing I want to do is get beat up by a magazine editor. The guys at the firm would never let me live that one down.” And he better damn well know it! Hehe! I could feel the sly smirk of victory crossing my full lips once again!
“That’s RIGHT! I wouldn’t want to have to EMBARRASS you.” You know I just had to gloat. I don’t know what happened; maybe a radioactive spider bit me after he just got through tickling the crap out of me. I don’t know what it was but it really excited me to play the defiant little tough girl who wasn’t going to be tickled anymore. I just turned casually to look for the remote control on the stand next to the couch, fully confident that my handsome little slave boy would keep his wandering hands to himself for a change. It’s funny, looking back I wonder how long I really thought that fantasy would last… hehe.
“So you’re not going to let me tickle you anymore?” I barely had time to think. He just grabbed both my legs, pulling them up onto the couch and me, face down, closer to him. He pounced on top of me, pinning me tightly under his massive form face down. Hehe… I just knew he couldn’t resist a Challenge!
He pinned both of my arms above my head with his strong hands and he straddled the backs of my thighs. I was trapped, very trapped. (Fun is fun… but I made sure not to slide my ass too close to him, after all, we’re just friends.) I could feel his face lowering closer and closer to mine. Surprisingly I still had this insatiable smile plastered across my face and I just knew he would try and make it bigger.
“Hehehe, NO, I’m going to use my superpowers to throw you off me, just you wait.” I just can’t resist. I love pushing his buttons too much, hearing the shock in his heaving breath when, despite my helpless predicament, I am still as rebellious ever. I know that I am really going to GET it now, but that’s okay; I DESERVE IT. I make a promise to myself that no matter what I’m not going to give in. If he wants to hear me laugh or make me squirm, he is going to have to fight for every second.
“HAHaHAHAHAHAHahahahahahAHAHA HEHEHEHEHE h hahaHAHAHAHEHAEHEHEHE!” Apparently, Jim missed the whole radioactive spider seminar and decided to show me just how mortally sensitive my hips ticklish are. He didn’t even give me time to breathe; he just started digging into my supple skin, both hands, full tickle.
It was amazing; there was nothing I could do to fight off the horrible sensations shooting through my now thrashing torso! I just started laughing and screaming right away! So much for my little ‘promise’! He knew that I wanted to hold back my hysterical laughter, like I usually do, but I guess he wasn’t in the mood for games. I could tell by his mischievous little chuckle in the background that this was his time to try and show me who’s boss!
“So you’re sure you’re not going to let me tickle you anymore?” He just gets SOOOOOO full of himself sometimes! Doesn’t he remember that I’m supposed to be the smart ass?
“Hhhehehehehehehehheheheheheeeeeeheheh NEVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER!” I can tell that he was soooooo enjoying himself. I mean, I’m a strong girl, if I do say so myself, and being so horribly ticklish s only brings it out worse. I tried as hard as I could to push his stupid hands away with my flailing arms, but that proved to be rather futile. Man, he’s focused! But that’s okay, because so am I!
“Oh well, that’s a relief. That means I can never do this again.” I was really in for it when he put his strong tickly hands down the front of my jeans (the POCKETS! We’re just friends, people!)
“OH SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIT!!! NOT THERE hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaah” I tried as best I could, but let’s be honest: this kid’s had practice. The violent ticklish sensations coursing through my pelvis were just horrific; I couldn’t help but cry out. I hate giving in, begging, giving him what he fucking wants. I know there’s a part of him that needs to see the vile sarcastic bitch suffer for always criticizing him, but I REALLY hate letting him have it.
And the much bigger problem was my subtle indulgence thrashing against my best guy pal. I mean, I have never been accused of having a small behind before, and in a fit of ticklish agony I can’t really control what PARTS of him I rub against, can I? A few times when I got really wild I could have sworn that I could feel his enjoyment, but that couldn’t be! We’re just friends. The only time that he gives me any rest is to taunt me. He leans in close resting his cheek against mine just to cast sadistic whispers into the burning ears of his conquered prey. I swear he can be really EVIL sometimes…
“So, what do you think about my summation now?” He lets me breathe for a few seconds, and I just sucked in much-needed air. I know that this is just part of his sick game, to let me have just enough rest that he can prolong my torture…
“You know, I think it REALLY SUCKED!!” But truth be told, I can’t help but play along! Hehe. I mean, even if I apologized he wouldn’t have stopped, right? So what’s the point? And besides, it’s such a naughty little rush to be so bad in the face of certain ticklish torment.
I gritted my teeth in anticipation of the next torturous tickle, but nothing could have prepared me for the ten wiggly fingers slithering underneath my shirt probing my hyper-sensitive ribcage. There was definitely something different about Legal Boy today. He was a tad more SADISTIC than usual. I could feel his fingertips spidering wickedly against my soft, supple skin and all I could do was squirm from side to side beneath him. I could feel his confidence brimming with every violent contraction or ticklish spasm that he caused. He was REALLY enjoying this! Even though I knew I couldn’t stand another second, what’s a good friend to do?
“It heheheheheheheeheehe REALLY REALLLLLLLLLLLLLLY hehehehehe SUCKED hhahahahahaahahahahaahahahaha NOT THE RIBS.. hehehehehehehehehe ehehehe YOU ohhohohohohohohohhohooh WENT TO hohohohohoohohoh LAW SCHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL?” Oh that did it… I was getting to him before, but that was the last straw. With every second that passed Jim was just making my helpless torture worse, much worse.
And no matter how much he made me scream, I wouldn’t give in. I was still going to be his evil little smart ass no matter how much I had to suffer for it, and that infuriated him to no end. I could feel myself getting lightheaded but it wasn’t from the endorphins or lack of oxygen: It was power, unadulterated power. I could make him FEEL, and that made me feel really SPECIAL…
“HAHAHA HAH HUUUUU UUUU HUUUUUUUUU HMMMMMMM----- OHHHH SHIT… HUUUUUU!” Jim stepped back from the couch and just flipped me over onto my back. Like I said, I’m a thick girl; I was very surprised at how easily he tossed me over from side to side(pleasantly surprised, actually!) My evil captor straddled me once again. His strong legs’ trapped my toned thighs as a warm greeting ensuring that I had absolutely no escape from what was coming to me…
Jim looked down at me in tortured excitement at my open rebellion. He just let my chest heave up and down as I tried desperately to regain at least some of my lost strength. I was out of breath, gasping for air, and SMILING. I told you I love to push his buttons.
“Are you ready to apologize yet?” I’ll give him this: he’s persistent.
“HELL NO!” I couldn’t help but shout at him. I just casually wiped away the fiery red hair plastered to my forehead. I know what you’re thinking. To be honest even I was wondering whose side I was on. I was doing a pretty good job getting myself into all kinds of trouble for him. Some people may call this behavior flirtatious; some may call it suicidal. Hehe, but I just call it being ME.
“Okay then, Let’s count Sarah’s RIBS!”
I instinctively pull my arms down to my side in the classic don’t tickle me posture and of course walk right into his vicious trap. Jim quickly wrapped his left arm tightly around my torso, pinning both of my arms to my sides and pulling me sternly into his thick chest. Then my sick sadistic FRIEND exploited my oldest and most devastating weakness: my ultra ticklish NECK! I could feel his free hand spidering and teasing all along my neck and shoulders, forcing wave after wave of ticklish agony to wash over my thrashing form.
“HAHAHAHAHASH HAHEEEHEEHEHEH EHEHEHEHEA HEAHHEH AEHAEHAEHAEHAE!” Normally I hate giving him the satisfaction of my girlish little giggles, but this was especially maddening. Pinned so tightly against him, I was forced to laugh deliriously right into his thirsting ear, and I could tell I was just fueling the monstrous fire inside him.
“Are you sorry?” As you can see… he’s trying to teach me a lesson…
“Noeheheheheheheeheheheheheheehheehehehheh” And I haven’t learned a THING!
“How about now?” Just to keep me off balance he reached back down to squeeze my tender hips again.
“NOOOOOO HEHEHEHA HAHAHA HAHAAHA HAHAHAHA!” I couldn’t help but buck violently against him and scream out in helpless laughter. It seemed as though my entire ticklish form was at his merciless disposal. I could barely breathe but with gritted teeth and eyes screwed shut I was still holding on. No matter how bad it got I was going to get through this…. Or so I thought….
“Tickle, Tickle, Tickle!”
See I told you, Jim’s such a fucking cheater. And he had to whisper it right into my ear with that warm sweet breath of his… hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. ANYWAY!
“Okay okay heheheheheheheheheheheheh I’m sorry.” The physical torture was bad enough, but baby talk just crosses the line! I mean, it just makes everything tickle so much worse and feel so intense… that was just a little bit too much. For the sake of our FRIENDSHIP I just let him win…
“SAY IT LIKE YOU MEAN IT.” And of course he has to rub it in!
“IM SORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRYY heheheheheh” Finally, after what feels like forever, he lets me up. I’m a mess: hair gone wild, glasses gone crooked, shirt wrinkled, face flushed red, gasping for air. What can I say? Jim does do good work (sometimes).
“WATER…” is all I can say. I should tell him what a sick sadistic jerk he is, but judging by the evil little smirk on his face, I know that would only stroke his twisted ego. To his credit, even in the midst of his torturous rage, Jim was still good enough to go fetch me a bottle of water from the fridge.
Even when it’s for a good cause—like not ruining our FRIENSHIP—I hate losing. I mean I can’t stand it anymore than I can stand Lawyer Boy getting his rocks off turning me into a giggly little school girl. I could see him from the corner of my eye, striding to the kitchen like he had just won some fucking game show. I hate laughing… you know what I mean? I can’t stand laughing for him… at his command like I am his ticklish little puppy or something. I even hate myself for giving him his satisfaction!
At times just like this when I can’t take back all the maniacal cackling I fought so hard to withhold, there’s only one thing that gives me comfort. Jim might be able to steal a giggle or two by poking me in the side from time to time, but there’s one thing Lawyer Boy still couldn’t have: the truth. He can have my begrudged ticklish thrashing on occasion, but he can’t have my naughty little secret, the one that I have been keeping from him for so long: Of all the things I despise about Jim always tickling me, the thing I find most infuriating is that he never tickles me ENOUGH!
I know, I know… It’s so sick, depraved, deviant, TWISTED: the uptight bitchy control freak magazine editor who loves nothing more than to be tickled silly by her mean best friend. Trust me, I have spent hours and hours pondering just how truly screwed up I am. That’s why it’s my little secret.
I couldn’t help but steal a glance at him in the kitchen. He looked so different. He was missing his usual veneer of pretense and STRUCTURE. His tie was a little crooked, his shirt a little ruffled, and a gentle sheen of sweat was forming from all of his torturous exertion. I could see that his breathing was still a little elevated, and for some strange reason that made me feel really good!
I always feel like I am drifting on Cloud Nine when Jim gets through tickle torturing me, but today there was just something ELSE. I mean he always taunts me and teases me for being such a smart ass, but today it felt so much more personal, more intimate. It’s like he was looking down into the very core of me and making me pay for it, no matter how much it made me scream! I mean, Jim never lets go like that when he tickles me, at least in real life anyway. Whatever it is that’s making him so aggressive, there’s no way that I am letting it go to waste!
I could feel the devious little grin creeping across my face as my plan took shape. I propped both of my legs onto the couch with my knees resting against my chest. Jim trotted rather triumphantly back to the couch handing me the bottle of water as a consolation prize for my participation. I take a long hard sip and notice that he can’t help glancing down at my cute little boots. And that’s when I knew I had him…
“What, no ‘thank you’???” The funny thing is that he looks like he actually MEANS it… God he’s such a tease.
“‘Thank you’??? It’s your fault that I’m out of breath and thirsty in the first place. You with all your TICKLING!” I punctuated playfully, kicking him in the arm with my boot. I could see the look in his eyes. I knew exactly what he’s thinking…
“Don’t kick me.” I can see the fury building again…
“Or what???” I can feel the butterflies dancing in the bottom of my stomach as I take my turn to tickle the dragon’s tail. I literally start shaking as I place my left boot against his right arm… Despite my best efforts the corrupt little smile on my face just keeps getting bigger and bigger… The anticipation is deliciously unbearable and I can see that Jim is in no mood for my defiance.
“I SAID… Don’t Kick Me!”
With that I pushed his arm with my boot and laughed at him from behind my librarian glasses. Just seeing the demonic look on his face sent warm waves of terror crashing through every inch of me.
“Huuuuuuuuuuuuu!” I gasped in feigned surprise as he viciously grabbed my left ankle, trapping my booted foot on his lap. Jim had finally lost it. He went straight for the zipper…
And then we heard it: SILENCE. No taunts, no teasing, no mean little tickle games. Just silence.
I was a little puzzled when he let go of my ankle, and my foot just lay there awaiting his ticklish invasion. I was so disheartened! You have to understand, I never get to have Jim tease and tickle my feet. They are always in sneakers and such. And they are so excruciatingly ticklish! That would be the perfect end to my secret little indulgence. Why was he stopping? I couldn’t let that happen!
I could feel Jim looking at me, my own eyes locked on my endangered foot. It felt as though time froze around this one single moment for all eternity. Eons passed with no movement, only silence. Then it broke, years of secrecy ended in a single, unguarded, earthy, breath of mounting excitement. That’s all it took for my precious little secret to die and for me to ‘FALL FOR HIM’ all over again…
Jim pulled me to him violently. I was so startled that I just dropped the bottle of water to the ground as though it never existed. He sat me firmly on his lap and just looked at me. I was lost in some kind of trance. I couldn’t hide behind my glasses anymore.
The look in his eyes told me all I needed to know as he peered deeply into my soul. I could feel him casting aside all the lies I had told him. Years of tension were buried as our lips met. This felt so right, as though we were made to fit in each others arms. I could feel the excitement building between our bodies. This was a kiss that was both long overdue and arriving perfectly on time. After all these years of getting in our own way, our breath finally melded into ONE!
One hand gently caressed my side, the other entangled in my long fiery hair. I delicately stroked the back of Jim’s neck as he returned my liberated passion. I couldn’t help but think, Is this a Dream? Can this really be happening?
Jim took a small break from my lips only to take refuge on my soft neck. In the midst of my final destruction my eyes were screwed tightly shut. From the abundance of my aching heart, my lips betrayed my growing truth as I whispered gently into his ear:
“I don’t want to wake up.”
His lips met mine again, our hearts were already together. I could feel his tongue against mine, and the electricity of sharing the same baited breath.
“Ahhhhhhhh------huuuuuu huuuuu---------ahhhhhhhhh---- huuuu huuuu” Then it started, all over again and for the very first time. Jim’s evil hand began spidering lightly at my waist line. I couldn’t help but squirm gently, trying not to break the kiss or giggle into him. I wasn’t really fighting him, but with the pleasure of so many years past flowing so freely through me, my trapped form couldn’t help but writhe in blissful madness. The taste of his mouth contrasting with his devious tickles was almost too much to take at once, but I just couldn’t get enough.
“Mmmmmmmm----hahahahahahahah------mmmmmmm huuuu huuuu hahahahaha---mmm” I could tell that he enjoys making me play his sick little games. He teased my supple waist persistently until finally my bubbly giggles filled both our mouths with our lips still intertwined.
“AHAHAHAHAHA---------- HUUUUU HUUUUU!” Suddenly, a more deliberate massage of my waist causes me to break from my captor, breathless.
“You know you don’t have to kick me if you don’t want me to stop tickling you, Sarah! It’s okay to like it!” Now I guess it’s his turn to be the smart ass.
“I don’t like it.” I’m lying to him. Eyes still shut. Breath erratic, I’m lying to him. I’m still hiding… trying to hide. Even when there is no escaping the truth, my defiance persists. Maybe if I don’t say it out loud… maybe then it’s not really true?
“Really?” I shudder as his strong hands start to lightly trail along my inner thighs. I can’t help but gasp in approval. It’s almost not fair. He has me, ALL of me! “You don’t like it at all? Not even a little?” He’s so teasing, so playful, but so confident, so dominating so… He’s never like this! I’m always the one in control. This must be a dream!
“Noooooooooooooooooo.” God, my voice is quivering now! Even when I am clearly broken I still have to hold his satisfaction like a prize. All confessions of themasochistic mind are wrapped in the blanket of a lie they need to have forcibly exposed. With every passing second the thrill of my hopeless seduction grew with no end.
“I think someone’s Lyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyying.” Sometimes the most intense form of torment is just a gentle whisper.
“I don’t like it,” my lips lie to him, but my body betrays me. As he continues his teasing trek along my toned thighs, my legs can’t help but move in time with his knowing hand.
“What do I get if you’re lying?” It’s so unfair. That is such an audacious question…
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmm” is all that I can manage in response. A lewd moan as Jim’s strong hand slowly massages my taut thighs. My quivering legs gently yield to his probing caress. He knows exactly what I want. I want to confess, but I can’t. The prize is truly not mine to give, it’s his to TAKE!
“If you’re lying I get to do WHATEVER I want to you, for as long as I want, no matter how much you SCREAM!”
As if those sinister words weren’t enough… My world almost ended with his playful punctuation: lightly scrambling his fingers across my heaving stomach. It caused me to stir, but it will take more than that to jolt me from his rhythmic trance. The weight of this never ending moment was just so overwhelming. I leaned against him for comfort. Almost ironic, the one place I feel truly safe is in the arms of my tormentor.
“OKaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay,” I literally moaned into his ear. What was happening to me? Agreeing to a wager that was long since decided with terms beyond the unthinkable. The truth has long since been told and received. Our relationship has changed in ways I have only dared to dream of. All that remains now is to complete MY fantasy.
I gasp in horror as he begins to unbuckle my pants. Jim’s a good lawyer. He knows that when you really want to prove a point you always use the most PERTINENT evidence. I know the result. We both do. And he’s taking his time. He’s not letting me off easy. I deserve this. Every time that I told him he wasn’t good enough, every sly remark, every time I dismissed him, all this time hiding…. I REALLY deserve this.
I can feel myself sighing nervously in dreadful anticipation as he parts the top of my jeans. If I opened my eyes I would probably be greeted by that wicked smile plastered across his face that I love so much. His hands slowly tease the waist line of my newly exposed lace undergarment. I am forced into moans and squeals of approval as my warm, nervous, and excited breath gently caresses his ear. He knows that I can’t bear to watch, so he makes me wait as long as he can stand. I deserve it.
“Mmmmmmm mmmmmmmm mmmmmmmm oh ggggggggg huuu huuuuuu mmmm”
After what feels like an eternity, Jim finally seals my fate, tracing the outline of the damp warmth that we all knew was there. My gasps, squeals, and squirming all began anew with this subtle torture. Now my secret is fully exposed as my supple rose is in full bloom. The score card, already won, has been turned in, but still my fantasy is not complete!
“Awwwwwwwwwww, someone’s a liar!” As if at all possible, I squeezed him even tighter. The implications of my predicament were truly sinking in for the first time. I knew what he was going to do to me. I have always known… I’ve dreamt of it for so long. My punishment would be long, slow, thorough, very sadistic, dreadfully unbearable, and violently delicious. The only question I had was whether or not my SANITY would survive…
“Look at me, Sarah,” For all the years that Jim had waited, I knew that he was going to enjoy this. I buried my head into his shoulder, shaking it back and forth, begging, and pleading for a reprieve from his gaze. I couldn’t look at him, not like this; and he knew it. That’s exactly why he would make me: because it’s what I needed.
“Look at me Sarah!” He won’t let me rest… He can’t let me rest. He’s always pushing me past the boundaries I set for myself, no matter how much I protest. Maybe he really is this perfect?
I reluctantly take my head from his shoulder. My arms are frozen. He brushes the hair gently out of my face even though I look away. I mean, I usually have such a dominant personality, in control all the time, so confident, so powerful, but now I am his, ALL his. His glorious prize was not made of gold or silver.
It was my pride: the pride that pushed him away for so long and that he had been too afraid to take before. But not today, not on the day that Fear dies.
I finally look at him. I can see the furious emotions swimming in his piercing eyes. In my wildest dreams, he has never looked so magnificent. His excited breathing lets me know how long he’s wanted this. I can see how afraid he was to let me in, to see the demon buried within. Now His fear is mine.
“What happens to liars, Sarah?” Such an innocent question, and under the circumstances that just makes it all the more sinister. He knows I can’t bear to say it out loud, but he’s still going to make me. It’s what he wants… I’m usually so full of words, now I sit before him speechless. The reversal of power warms places deep inside me, some I didn’t even know about.
I just stare back at him. He can tell that the words are caught in my throat. Could he blame me? Can you? It’s such an emotional transition, it happened so fast. How could I speak, even though I knew I had to?
“What happens to liars, SARAH?” All those years spent cross examining witnesses has really paid off. Jim knows all the right buttons to press as he guides me just where he wants me to go. This time he makes sure that I can see his evil little grin and how much he’s enjoying my mental anguish over my purchased confession. He knows that infuriates me. His hands start to lightly caress the top of my delicate stomach. He get’s oh so close to my precious peaks--just to frustrate me. “Come on Sarah, you’re such a SMART Girl, you have an answer for everything. I know you can tell me.”
That’s my boy!
He’s pushing me… and it’s working. As his fingers subtly help my utter hopelessness sink in, MY own evil grin starts to sneak back across my lips at the depraved thought of just making things WORSE!
“They get punished.” It’s a small step but a step nonetheless, but I am still barely able to say it above a whisper.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you!” Mmmmmmmmmmm that did it, that was enough. He was enjoying this way too much. His hands acting more deliberately now, making my situation all the more uncomfortable. With nothing left to defend I just let my instincts take over… and with that I finally let go!
“THEY GET PUNISHED!” Really, I’ve always known that my STERN VOICE excites him; let’s just say that now I am doing it on PURPOSE. I could feel him recoil at the change in my demeanor and I took the offensive. I straddled his lap and kissed him even more deeply than before. The initial shock of our transition was wearing off and I was free to enjoy the moment. I loved seeing his face encased with the subtle wisps of red hair dangling on his face as I kissed him deeply. Both my hands rested firmly on the couch behind him as used all the leverage I could to let him know how he REALLY makes me feel.
Jim being Jim, his sneaky fingers mischievously found their way to my open hollows. The electric ticklish jolt hit me immediately, but I started to fight just as quickly. Not fighting against them, fighting to TAKE IT. I wanted to enjoy the intimacy of our connection and the unbridled torment that I knew would accompany it from now on.
I just grabbed tighter and tighter onto the couch and the deep sea of giggles was stifled in the back of my throat as we shared our fevered breath. If he wanted the satisfaction of my wild ticklish laughter I was going to make him work for it. As if he read my mind, Jim made it as hard as possible for me to endure with his skilled fingers. After all, I deserve it.
“Hehe-------mmmmmmmm huuu huuu-------hehehe---mmmm” Even as my dam of laughter began to break, it only drove me to kiss Jim harder. There was no more hiding, no more games, I was letting him into the deepest parts of me, the parts that I kept hidden for so long, and that I had only dreamt he would understand.
“Ahhhhhhhhh------huhhhhhh huhhhhh----HAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHA!” As usual, when Jim really wants to break me I can’t resist. Teasing my sensitive neck with his devilish tickly fingers caused me to break the passion of our kiss and my hysterical laughter poured out audibly once again. I could feel the lust bubbling in the back of my eyes as I stared down at my loving captor. My growing lasciviousness was evidence of my second wind as the prurient look of malicious intent plastered across the face of my trapped tormentor let me know that my intense feelings were mutual.
I just leaned into him as I started kissing his neck and nibbling gently at his earlobes. I could tell that the feelings of my warm soft lips, moist rough tongue, and sharp teasing teeth were rousingly electric against his bare skin. I knew that the overwhelming display of my affection was driving him absolutely crazy and I wanted to make it worse… much worse. He had his fun, now it’s time for MINE!
“So you think you can PUNISH me, huh?” Words can barely describe the unadulterated rush of power washing over me. I could feel his hands caressing me desperately. At that very moment I was the center of creation. I could feel him trembling beneath me with every brush of my lips and every teasing defiance. His entire body shivered as my familiar tone returned and I took my new form. The sheer audacity of my words turned him on to no end and I was going to make the fires of his sadistic lust burn with the passion of a thousand suns.
“MMMMM, still defiant I see.” I could feel him drifting in his own little dream world as I shamelessly writhed on top of him. He had been dreaming of this for so long, how could I not oblige him?
“Silly boy. I will always be Defiant… Stubborn… and BITCHY… The only question is, what are you going to DO ABOUT IT, hehehe?” I was whispering right into the very core of him. I never knew that my laughter could be so sultry or that my teasing could feel so bold and seductive, but with my completion just in sight my instincts overwhelmed reason.
“Ahhhhhhh----Huuuuuuuuuuu huuuuuuuuuuu mmmmmmmm!” All at once, it happened so fast, he just threw me down on the couch. Feeling his brute strength overpower me and seeing that demonic look in his eyes, I couldn’t help but lick my lips invitingly as I looked up into his searing eyes.
He didn’t need to say anything. What more was there to say? Jim picked me up in his strong arms with almost terrifying ease. My eyes shot open with amazement. I wrapped my slender arms around his neck and my lips returned as well. He’s earned his prize well.
Jim rarely went into my bedroom, we were just friends. Now it’s HIS bedroom, and the sacred venue for my first REAL torture. I can feel it in his arms has he holds me tightly. So much rage, so much hatred, so much repressed lust, so much surging malice…. MMMMMMMMM. I knew he was going to take his time. I knew he was going to torture every fiber of my being, and I couldn’t wait. The thought of sensually paying for all my sadistic misdeeds guided me to the warm encompassing bath of erotic helplessness.
Having kidnapped me to his bedchamber, Jim just forcefully brushed my beddings aside. He must not have wanted them ruined by my desperate thrashing. He’s so thoughtful! And judging by the absolutely devious look in his eyes, I was sure that I most certainly would THRASH! Only a simple pillow is left to keep me comfort as he slammed me down onto the bed.
Even at the brink of certain merciless torture I still couldn’t resist tracing the tip of my boot along his inner thigh just to tease him. Like I said, I so deserve this. He takes off his tie, loosens his top buttons, rolls up his sleeves and sets about his business. It’s strange really. Before, I couldn’t look at him; now, as the warm oily lust begins to saturate my throbbing veins, I can’t bear to look away. I can feel an almost predatory evil swimming behind my eyes. My ever-defiant smile feels so seductive… so inviting.
“Hands against the Headboard!” Jim just twists his little ‘POWER’ tie between his strong hands foreshadowing my pending bondage. In truth more valuable possessions have been wasted on endeavors far less meaningful than this, but even still, such a personal gift for my torment is a very endearing touch. He snakes closer to me on the bed with a look of malicious determination. As he casually rewrites all of my darkest fantasies… what can I do but shake my head ‘no’ in playful defiance?
“Make ME!” Almost before I can finish, Jim grabs my teasing leg and pulls me to him. He pins me down beneath him, pressing my arms tightly high above my head. I am looking right into his fiery eyes, through my librarian glasses. I can see his raging desire to have his favorite plaything helpless before him. He holds my wrists in place as he begins to tie them. Just to fuck with his concentration I gently massage his growing arousal with my taught left thigh. As if he read my mind he just pulls back, playfully blocking my distraction. I can see the focus, that laser focus that makes him so perfect at what he does. He’s determined that I lie bound before him.
Jim slides me beneath him, pressing my wrists to the headboard, and I relish the sensation of his strong form pinning me down. Every nerve in my helpless being came screaming to life, awaiting the next ticklish invasion. He sternly tied the loose end of his mock rope to the bedrail. In kind, I began my mock protest. Pulling and straining against my new bondage, I’m not trying to get free, not exactly. In some sick way pulling futilely at the tight binding of my writs just reminds me how truly powerless I am in the wake of Jim’s growing malice. Fervently gyrating against my raging captor only adds to my carnal indulgence.
I’ve tested my bonds. I know that there is no escape. Ironically, being so utterly powerless brings me an eerie sense of calm as I fully realize my predicament. We’ll only get one shot at this really, one chance to do it right, one chance to consummate the change in our relationship forevermore. I just hope I don’t disappoint him. I have wanted this, just like this, for so long.
Our shared silence is deafening. I gently bite my lip as he straddles me; I need the subtle rush of pain just to remind me that something so sweet is really happening. He looks down at me with that evil leer that always precedes his malignant tickles. It’s met gingerly with my familiar confident smirk. I’m glad he still carries that infuriating air of confidence. His hubris is like an intoxicating spring of living water, freshly renewed as soon as it is consumed. Luckily, my thirst for his complete merciless tyranny has become quite insatiable, as evidenced by years of endless teasing, taunting, and heartless criticism that will most surely be brought to bear… HEHEHEHE!
“You know you have been REALLY mean to me over the past few years… This is what happens To Mean Girls Sarah!” It’s a corrupt jolt of screaming pleasure as he rips open my black blouse to emphasize his point. It’s so electric, I feel so wonderfully feminine in the wake of his dominance. I proudly present my heaving breasts locked in their black lace cage. His fingertips gently kiss my newly born skin and there is no escape. All I can do is close my eyes, moan deeply, and move in time with his teasing caress. I ball my hands into tight meaty fists in a futile attempt to deal with the blissful sensations that are invading my mind.
“Mmmmmmmmm, You promise? Ahhhhh---------------huuuu huuu--------!” This was surely the final ratification of my ultimate demise. My hands tied tightly above my head, my torso stretched taut, revealing my vulnerable ribcage. His gentle caressing turned to subtle probing as Jim begins to massage the soft skin gently into bone and the hyper ticklish hollows in between.
This is how it started, and this was inevitably how the end would begin: with his gentle teasing and my eternal defiance to give him the flowing girly laughter that I know now haunts his dreams. I try so hard for him, I think he knows that. It would be so easy for me to give in and surrender to the bubbly giggles building inside me, but I am fighting for him. I’m fighting because I know that deep down he loves to break me, really break me. I can only imagine the warm sense of omnipotence that each little triumph spurs deep within him.
“You better not laugh; otherwise it will get MUCH, MUCH WORSE!!!” Mmmmmmm our oldest game with a new little twist. He knows that the verbal teasing is the worst for me. He must see that plastered across my contorted face as the words hit gently home. Now he’s using my own defiance against me. He knows I want to retort, I want to scream, I want to get away, but if I move my concentration away from holding in the precious laughter prompted by his ever-quickening fingers, the precious dam will burst and then he will have won. It’s almost inhuman to cause such conflict within the mind of another, but trust me, I deserve this!
Without warning it happens, and my loving captor lets go completely. Somewhere deep within his blackening soul the panic switch has been flipped and the time for teasing has gone. And now the real fun can begin.
“MMMMMMMMMMM NNNNNNNNNNNNN HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHAHA NOOOO AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!”
I can feel his slithering fingers snake up to my naked porcelain hollows and I can’t move my concentration fast enough to account for the new configuration of fiery tickles. The burst of insatiable laughter is instant. I strain futilely against my simple bridle but Jim’s silk rope holds me fast as I endure my ticklish torment. There is no escape. My desperate laughter takes on a new tone. I didn’t anticipate this. Being bound, unable to get away makes things so much more intense. The fiery sensations coursing violently through my thrashing form are both eerily familiar and altogether alien. I must be three times more ticklish than usual.
“I told you it would get worse,” he said.
I wanted to say something, but he didn’t give me a chance. In truth I had years to say what I wanted to say. Now I guess he thinks it’s HIS TURN to do the talking. Both of his wicked hands danced lightly in my hyper-ticklish hollows. His nimble fingers gently circled the outermost rim of my sensitive armpits only to scurry furiously to the vulnerable hotbed of nerves that rest at their centers.
“Hahahhaahahahahahhahaahhhah AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ahahahahaha aHAHAAAAAAAAAAHA HAHAHAHAAHAHa hhhhhha ahahahahaha” My delirious laughter was pouring out like the River Jordan, giving new life to his evil intentions. Finally I could feel myself starting to scream. It was punctuated by my vicious struggles for freedom and thrashing my head back and forth desperately against the pillow. My cute little librarian glasses that he likes so much threatened to fly off in the wake of my mounting hysteria.
I have dreamt about this for so long, only now in the full flow of my merciless torment to understand the true splendor of utter helplessness. I could feel his vengeful hatred growing with each thoughtless stroke of his menacing fingers. He counted every shriek and every scream a sweet symphony to his ultimate superiority. The salty tears freely streaming down my face were the wax sealing the envelope of my undying submission. Finally, after all these years!
After a few more minutes Jim stops his cruel tickling of my helpless hollows just for a moment. I know it’s not out or mercy. He just doesn’t want his ticklish little toy to run out of air before he’s done with me. He so fucking sadistic, he wants the full breadth of my hysterical laughter for the full duration of my torment. Feeling the true depths of his depravity only draws me deeper and deeper into the raging darkness building beneath his polished veneer.
“Huhhhhhhhhh huuuuuuuuuhhh huhhhhhhhhhhh!” I lie there breathless, gasping in air desperately, the only recourse available for my burning lungs. I didn’t even need a blindfold. My eyes were still screwed tightly shut in horrid anticipation of his next heartless assault. I can’t bear to open them… I’m afraid-really afraid… afraid I might wake up…
“This is what happens to MEAN GIRLS, SARAH!!!” This is the anthem of my suffering. He can’t let me forget it. I have to be reminded vigorously how I make him feel with my cold criticism, tearing down the best of him, insulting his most brilliant ideas, tearing down his perfect lie. Now it’s his turn to be mean. Even as I regain my breath I can’t manage a reply. I know that every sick twisted rush of power that I felt tormenting him has to be accounted for. I have to PAY!
His knowing fingers once again return to titillate the bare flesh of my heaving torso. My supple helpless form begins to move in time again, not wanting to break the delicious discomfort of his teasing caress. I almost whimper as his fingers begin their vulturous circle around my trapped navel. Usually, this ultra-ticklish bed of nerves is guarded perfectly by some form of garment… but not TODAY. Now it’s bare for the whole world to see, made naked just to be HIS prey…
I hold my breath as the radius of the teasing circles around my helpless bellybutton grows shorter and shorter, but my hips can’t help but aid him in his insidious task. I can’t help but bring my soft sensitive skin closer to him so that he can fill my deepest desires.
“Heheheheehe heheheheheh heheheheheh hehehe…” My resolve washes away as I feel my body so utterly betray me. I can feel the steady stream of giggles vibrate helplessly through my pressed lips as his fingers lurk closer and closer to their ticklish target. Part of me wants to get away, get free, and stop him. But that sorrowed minority is quickly overruled by the burning lust within me that can’t wait for my torment to be renewed.
“HHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAAHAAAHAHA HUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUU AHAHHAAHAHAH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HUAUAHAAHUAHAUAHAHAHAAHAHAAAHA!” New streams of belly laughter fill the room, his ears, and his utterly sadistic heart. Jim’s newest ticklish trespass is greeted by renewed desperate struggles as I buck violently against my captor. My body’s internal conflict plays out before him. Now I don’t have to hide the prurient desires that his mindless torture create between my writhing thighs. After all, we aren’t JUST FRIENDS anymore…
The mounting frustration is utterly unbearable. I can feel his excitement throbbing between his strong legs with every thrashing gyration. My pelvis rising to meet his massive body weight pleases my delicate warmth, but not in the way that I so desperately need. Now I know how he must have felt. Never quite getting the credit that he deserved, not matter how hard he tried to impress me.
“Come on Sarah, say something funny, say something smart, and tell me what I’m doing WRONG.” This is my fantasy… doesn’t he know that? He’s not supposed to enjoy torturing me THIS much… I never would have thought that he could take such possession of MY naughty little fetish, but I guess nothing is just MINE anymore. Now he just walks into my ticklish nightmares, adding his own form of torturous horror, and I can feel the moisture between my pressed thighs threatening to overtake me. I know he feels it too. His breathing is furious, dripping with his own carnal indulgence. It’s not often that I am at a loss for words.
“MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM HUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUU HUUUUU MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM HUUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUU!” My forced silence is like a badge of honor for him that I know will be worn on his heart always—even if it only lasts a few more fleeting moments. As he moves to massaging the points within my pockets, I let out a deep earthy moan born of my blistering passion.
This is more than just a flirty or even torturous tickle. This is a corrupt form of more deliberate stimulation. The front of my pelvic bone is naturally hypersensitive, but in my desperately aroused state the lewd feelings of merciless ecstasy are far more than I can handle. Torturing me carelessly with such murderous pleasure yields him all the impassioned feedback of needed approval that I have teasingly denied him for so long.
My back arches off the bed, my sighing giggles feverishly intertwined with sighs of fervid delight. My thirsting pelvis rises immodestly to increase the glorious pressure against my loving captor, but he coldly lifts up and away from me in utterly callous denial. The seeds of EVIL are easily planted! I know that he has waited years for the release from my cold torment; I guess I will have to wait a little longer for my release from his!
“What’s the matter Sarah? Is there something you WANT?” He just loves asking sick little questions he knows I know the answer to. It’s every lawyer’s secret pleasure. And today Jim has a VERY transparent witness on the stand, her confession has long since been signed.
“Oh My God mmmmmmmmmmmm huuuuuuu huuuuuuuuu mmmmmmm!” Words return to me again, if only briefly. He paused the torturous massage of my perceptive hip bone to make his was up to the head of the bed next to me. He let his sweet lips brush every so lightly against the soft skin of my bare neck. I shuddered silently. He knows what that does to me. He takes so much pleasure in causing me distress. He gently nibbles at my ear lobe kissing ever so softly. His warm breath teases me horribly as it slowly turns to a whisper…
“I’m sorry dear, GOD CAN’T HELP YOU RIGHT NOW.” I knew then just how far I had pushed him. He was going to torture me until there wasn’t a single shred of sanity left in the entirety of my helpless thrashing form. And you know what? I couldn’t fucking wait! I just licked my lips in lewd anticipation as the news of my continued plight hit softly home. I couldn’t bear to say it… but I can feel my lips mouth the words “Thank you.” God, I’m twisted!
With every passing second I belong to him more and more. Jim lets his evil fingers trail deliberately over the tops of my caged breasts as he climbs off of me and stands next to the bed. I let out a gentle frustrated sigh for my turgid nipples that suffer in silence beneath their lace cage, aching for his merciless attention. He’s walking now, and he doesn’t step lightly. He wants me to hear him walking. He wants me to hear every step as he walks confidently to the foot of the bed. He wants me to know that every step that he takes is one step closer to my greatest fear.
You have to understand, my feet are DREADFULLY ticklish. I hide them from the world in an endless array of boots, sneakers, and closed-toe shoes, but I can no longer hide them from HIM. I know this may seem to some as an overly cruel form of psychological torment as I lie helplessly in my bondage; but let’s be honest, I deserve it.
The walking stops at the foot of the bed, and my dread takes over. I feebly try to pull my delicate feet away from him, but his quick hands grab my pale ankles unapologetically. He has my ankles locked under one arm, while the other plays dangerously with the zipper to my left boot. I fidget uncontrollably with my legs trapped in his strong arms. I know what’s coming. He lets the evil game of endless anticipation continue for his own deviant indulgence. He’s in no rush. This isn’t one of my rigidly scheduled events, this is HIS TIME. He was going to use as much of it as he sees fit….
After what felt like an eternity, Jim finally came to his business: unzipping my left boot fully. He pulls gently at the heel, just moving it an inch or so. He runs his fingers teasingly along the top of my shoe…
“Is there a ticklish little foot in here? Come on… You can tell me!!!” I am beyond the ability to speak and he fucking knows it. My renewed futile kicks to free my trapped legs are the only defiance left in me: he’s seen to that. I also know that my most witty retort and an army of trained men couldn’t separate him from the task at hand. “I’ll make you a deal, if you can keep your shoe on, I won’t tickle your poor feet. OKAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY?”
This is cruel. I have no chance. My hands are tied. My words are lost in a sea of emotion and unbridled sensations that I have never experienced before. I can barely muster the strength to kick my legs anymore. This is pure unmitigated torture right down to my very core…. And you know what?… I DESERVE IT!
I sneak my ticklish heel back into the protection of my flimsy boot with steady gyration. He knows I can’t help but play his twisted little games. It was a simple enough first test. I could feel the next playful tug at my heel and I scrunched my toes together as tightly as I could inside their protective footwear. I know it’s futile, but I’m trapped blissfully in the maddening circle of his torment. At this point I don’t really have much of a choice.
This time he pulls my endangered shoe a couple of inches from my tender heel. It’s a little harder for my helpless foot to make it back safely this time. He’s patient. He has all the time in the world and he is going to make me endure each torturous second. Just to add to my plight, before I can make it safely home Jim adds two very knowing fingers to tease the soft exposed flesh of my ticklish twitching heel through the mock protection of my flimsy white sock…
“Heheheheeeeheehehehe hehe huuuuuu huuuu huuuuu huuuu hheheheheheheheheheh eheheheh ehehehehehehehe HEEHEHEHE eheheheheehehe ehehehehe ehheeheheeheheheheh eHEHEEH eheheehehehehe!”
Even through the thin white sheath, the gentle caress of his nimble fingertips across the tender base of my hyper-ticklish sole is maddening. My gentle stream of repressed giggles is freshly renewed with his latest ticklish attack. My helpless foot wiggles, desperately trapped in his gasp. Feeling my entire bound form struggle so fruitlessly under his cruel caress sends waves of depraved helpless lust crashing through me. Hearing his sadistic aroused breathing and sick loathsome laughter reveling in my ticklish plight was the perfect backdrop to his evil game.
My foot jerked back, trying to escape his cruel touch. It’s no use, I’m trapped. The only thing it succeeds in doing is inching my precious protection further and further off my helpless heel. With every inch of socked ticklish skin exposed, Jim’s sinister attack goes higher and higher along the wrinkly trail of my sensitive trapped sole. He’s driving his laughing beauty closer and closer to the horrible prize that she has needed for so long.
Jim’s sinister ministrations are both sporadic and eerily steady as he slowly forces me to lose control. Finally, as his knowing hands find a trapped ticklish, arch my violently scrunching toes give up their desperate fight and my shoe falls delicately off my wriggling left foot. Jim brushes it off the side of the bed and the large clunk of my now useless boot hitting the ground serves as just another audible reminder that my ticklish fate was sealed a VERY long time ago.
“Uh oh, I think you dropped something, Sarah, ahahaha!”
I can’t help but cringe. He thinks he’s so fucking hilarious, doesn’t he? I’m supposed to be the one making fun of him! I guess it doesn’t feel quite as good when the shoe is OFF the other foot.
He bends down to bring my bared socked foot to his malicious lips, no doubt reveling in his last little victory. Much to my surprise, he takes in the deep aroma of my twitching sole. I can feel his body shaking in the wake of such intimacy as the delicate wafts of perspiration and scented lotion collide deep in the back of his mind.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm huuuuuuu huuuuuuu mmmmmmmmmmmm…” I couldn’t help but moan deeply as he started ardently kissing my delicate foot through my thin ankle sock. It was so electric… so fulfilling. In some strange way having my sadistic captor lovingly worship my trapped twitching socked foot made me feel wanted and sexy. I could feel my back arch slightly as his nose nuzzled between my wiggling toes and he kissed the length of my sole… This is perfect… so perfect…
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHHAAHA HAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHA AAHAHAHA HUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUUUUUU AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH!” Suddenly five merciless fingers invade my poor delicate sole. My tortured screams and hysterical cackles are both immediate and ear splitting. How could he catch me so off guard when I know all the evil things he wants to do to me?
Truthfully, my confidence has always been my undoing and Jim knows that. All he has to do is stroke my ego and wait for the opening. His heavenly worship of my socked sole had me drifting off in a warm bath of euphoria just so that sick ruthless bastard could rip me out violently with his maddening tickles… This really is Perfect…
Jim left my other shoe on just so he could watch me try in vain to protect my trapped ticklish sole from his merciless onslaught with my other foot. I fight, I kick, I scream, I try so hard for the least bit of respite from Jim’s merciless tickles, but with every careless stroke of my tender wrinkled flesh my struggles are rendered meaningless, invalidated, and not at all good enough to stop my loving captor from my endless torment.
“You know… Mean girls don’t get ANY protection, Sarah…” It stops as suddenly as it began and I let out the most pathetic whimper. I know without being told what comes next. My baited breath betrays the fact that I can’t wait. I bite down hard on my bottom lip just to feel the tiny twinge of pain in the wake of my helpless plight… I still have to know. I have to know this is real.
“HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!” I let out a deep gasp of delighted horror as he rips off my flimsy white sock. I can feel the cool crisp air caress the delicate bare skin of my naked sole as precursor to Jim’s tickly fingers. I can feel his hands trembling as he holds the object of his many obsessions before him. I can’t help but feel the tiniest twinge of corrupt satisfaction knowing that I am so going to PAY and pay dearly for keeping them hidden from him for so long. I even painted my toes his favorite shade of Dark Plumb (word to the wise, never let someone evil know what you REALLY like!)
“AHHHHHHHHH HUUUUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUUUU!” Without warning Jim unzips and rips off my other trapped shoe--which was minding its own business I might add--and the flimsy sock soon follows. I can feel the mounting fear coursing through my tortured veins like oily perfection as my entire body quivers in the wake of his raging perfection.
“What pretty feet you have my dear…” Now he finally has my tender ticklish bare feet all to himself… And there isn’t a thing I can do about it.
“Thank you…” I swallow hard and my voice barely returns. It quivers, dripping with the excitement at the ticklish horrors to come… Nowhere to run, no columns to proof, no deadline to keep. I am finally free to enjoy my deepest fantasies… How could I not repay him?
The dizzying cloud of furious arousal is slowly drifting over me, coasting me gently to blissful delirium. It’s the final act of kindness that I can muster, pointing my toes forward, scrunching my wrinkly bare soles, inviting his loving kiss. I can’t help it… I’m a tease to the very end. He tastes my wiggling feet gently. His rough tongue ever so softly caresses the very tips of my ticklish toes. I can sense the icy hot shivers trickling up and down his massive spine as he lovingly kisses and nibbles my sensitive skin driving me out of my mind…
“HEHHEHEHEHH MMMMMMMMMMM HUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUU HUUUUU HEEEHHE MMMMMMMMMM HUUUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUU HEHEHEHE HEHEHEEHEHE HEHEHEHE MMMMMMMMMM MMMMMMMMM MMMMMM!” A sultry moan can be heard between my flirtatious giggles of approval. He takes both of my big toes into his mouth and begins to suck gently, then harder, and harder still. I can feel his intensity mounting with each passing second. His feverish tongue probes desperately between my delicate digits. My moans and giggles merge into one long audible of pleasure… Seducing my malicious tormentor makes every fiber of my being feel so feminine, so desired, and so utterly content.
“HAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHHAHAHAHA AHAAHAHAHAAAHHAHAAHA HAHAHAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHHAA HEHEHEHEHEHEHE EHEHEHEHEEHEHEHE HEHEHEHEEHEHEHE EHHEHEHEHEHEH EHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEHEH!” Just as suddenly as it began, my gentle worship ended. IT was replaced by the demented tickle-torture that I have needed for so long…. He mindlessly scrabbles his free fingers over the helpless cringing flesh of my trapped ticklish soles. I can feel my desperate arousal begin to point within me as wave after wave of my maddening laughter is ripped from my burning lungs, crashing violently into his sadistic eardrums. In some twisted way I thoroughly enjoy every futile jerk of my legs twisting and churning, trying to free my ticklish feet from their much deserved fate.
Up and down, side to side, Jim spiders and rakes his devilish fingers along my most ticklish nerve endings. He teases my arches ruthlessly, the very centers of my trapped soles without mercy, the balls of my feet endlessly, and the base of my twitching ticklish toes without regard for my sanity.
I think the sickest part of all is that in the midst of such mindless ticklish torture, the only thought that can penetrate my tormented fog is how aroused he must be watching the mad dance of my wiggling bare feet with my slender ankles trapped in his torturous deadlock. All his years of waiting, anticipating, teasing, hoping, and dreaming were all coming to screaming fruition in this one perfect moment. This moment when…
“I’m sorry Sarah, I think I used the wrong TICKLE pattern that time… don’t worry though, I WILL DO IT AGAIN… hahaha!” He’s just so ruthless… I never thought that he would enjoy it this much, did I? I get lost in a trance, fixated on the sheer Havoc and Panic that I am forced to endure and sick masochistic joy that it brings deep within my being.
Jim finally, and quite reluctantly I might add, pulls himself away from my squirming bare feet. It only seems like seconds but through my teary fog the clock on the dresser reads a full fifteen minutes of ticklish torment for my trapped bare soles. Wow, I guess time really flies when you’re having FUN!
My delicious Demon looks up at me and I can’t help but return his malicious gaze. There is something newer still lurking behind his piercing eyes. A new sinister evil the likes of which I have never dreamed as he plays casually with the hem of my jeans. He can’t be serious… can he? The constant throbbing between my full thighs is the only thing reminding me that this is all very REAL!
He looks up at me so sweetly, so disheveled from our ordeal. I can only imagine what he must be feeling as he pulls down my tight jeans exposing the gateway to his perfection. He can see me; finally… he can see all of me. He can see the gentle beginnings of my eternal bliss. He can see my horribly erect nipples straining gently against their lace cage. He can see my sensitive peaks rise and fall as I desperately take in breath …
Just seeing that sick little twinge in his eyes I know that I should savor every last bit of air, for it is the last that he can give… As my jeans settle around my ankles I can see his fixation with the lacy wrapping of his greatest treasure: a pearl that has always been reserved for him and him alone. I know that he can see the moistness of my throbbing womanhood that has long since ripened from the excitement of my delicious torment.
I look down at his beautiful face, accented by the mindless twinkling in the back of his piercing eyes. I can’t help but envy the positively predatory smile adorning his sweet sadistic lips. Soon he will be able to take me, take me to the place that I have been so afraid to go that I even push him away with my harsh words and icy exterior. But now, after all this time, they just provide the fuel and inspiration for his sweetest cruelty that will lead to my most torturous pleasure…
He finally throws my jeans to the ground and crawls up to meet me. He lays each of my legs to one side and lies patiently between my spread thighs, gazing evilly at my vulnerable womanhood. Just the thought of such carnal danger renews my tattered breath as I begin to stir once more. My erotic trance breaks slightly and I can briefly interact with the world of the living, even though part of me is in a Much better place.
“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!” I watch mindlessly as Jim unclasps my bra. He finally frees my large breasts that have been straining desperately against their lace prison this whole time. My cherry tipped peaks are calling… yearning to be caressed, teased, and tickled.
“HUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUUUUUUUU HUUUUUUU…” My breath catches as I see his strong knowing hands approach my delicate sensitive mounds. I hold my breath for what feels like an eternity until his gentle fingers kiss the bare delicate skin of my supple breasts. I close my eyes. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes inside me. I’m lost in an unending sea of earthy moans as my sadistic tormentor mercilessly fondles my bare heaving peaks… he keeps his wandering fingers teasingly away from my straining stiff nipples almost on purpose. This must really be a dream…
“Does that feel good, Sarah?” Making my body cry out isn’t enough. I have to SUFFER!
“Yesssssssssssssssss!” I give in… it’s all I can do. It’s all I have left.
“Am I doing anything wrongggggggg?” It’s sick, it’s twisted, and it’s exactly what I need.
“No no…..mmmmmmm please don’t stop.” He’s mine. Finally, after all this time, He’s mine.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stop?”
“Yessssss.”
“Then you have to do something for me…”
“Anything, just please don’t stop!” Please… such a small word, but yet such a big step for a control freak like me.
“Tell me that you like it, Sarah!” His voice was so stern, so icy, so demanding...
