milagros317
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This story won the 2003 Golden Feather Award for the best nonfiction story of the year. I would like to thank Mistress Zara and Mistress Kassandra for making that possible.
This is a nonfiction account of a roleplay session with Mistress Zara and Mistress Kassandra. The session took place in June 2003. All of the participants were over 21 years of age.
This is an F/m story with descriptions of domination and foot worship as well as tickle torture. It contains some adult material. If any of this might offend you, then don't read it.
The Provocation (FF/m)
by Milagros
Part One
-----------
I am waiting on my hands and knees in the Red Room of the dungeon, in eager anticipation. In today's roleplay, I have the role of a schoolboy, Mistress Zara of my classmate, and Mistress Kassandra of my older sister, six years older than I am. (In actual fact, I am in my 50's and both Mistresses are in their 20's.) The scene is a Saturday morning at our house, with our parents away, and my friend from school visiting.
Mistresses Zara and Kassandra enter and greet me. Not yet in characgter, Mistress Kassandra warns me that it's one thing to have a fantasy and write a script, and quite another to endure it in real life. She tells me that she intends to deliver in full measure, and is not sure that I can take it.
I am wearing my underwear, unusual for a session, because it is called for in the script. Mistress Kassandra sits on the couch, takes her sandals off, and picks up the copy of "Natural History" magazine that I've brought. She now curls up on the couch, bare feet exposed, pretending to be entirely engrossed in reading. She's wearing a short skirt. Pale blue polish on her toenails goes well with her gleaming black hair. Mistress Zara, also in a short skirt, has gorgeous red hair, and pink polish on her toenails.
Mistress Zara assumes her role as my classmate, visiting my house that morning. She whispers in my ear.
"Go over there quietly, sneak up on your sister, and tickle her feet. Do it!"
Under this provocation, I can't resist. I crawl quietly over to the couch, advancing slowly. Still engrossed in the magazine, Kassandra doesn't notice my approach. I extend a finger, and run it the length of her lovely bare sole.
"Cut that out!" she yells at me.
But I don't obey; instead I scrabble all ten fingers across both of her soles. She laughs and pulls her feet away from me.
"Now you're going to get it, little brother."
In a second, she pounces on me from the couch. She is sitting on my back, as I lie face down on the floor. (Actually, on a cofortable mat placed in front of the couch before we began.)
"Zara, get me the clothesline from the garage," says Kassandra, "because I need to teach this little brat a lesson."
As Zara goes away, Kassandra addresses me.
"The nerve of you! You're not even allowed to come into my room, much less sneak up on me and tickle me. How dare you? I'm going to strip you naked, just to humiliate you in front of your friend."
She shifts her position, but is still sitting on me, as she tears off my undershirt. Then she moves again, and pulls down my underpants. Zara returns and sees her pull them off. Both women are laughing at me.
"Wow, you stripped him!" Zara exclaims, as she hands over several ropes, which she has gotten from the supply cabinet.
Kassandra grabs my wrists and ties them together securely, as Zara taunts me.
"You're naked! I'm going to tell everybody at school that I saw you naked."
She crouches down to taunt me face to face, as Kassandra now grabs my ankles and ties them together very securely. With Zara's help, I am soon in a classic hogtie, on my belly with wrists and ankles bound together above me, behind my back.
"There's something that you should know about my brother, Zara. He's ticklish. Extremely ticklish."
A look sadistic delight is in her green eyes, as she asks "Where is he ticklish?"
"Everywhere!" answers Kassandra. "And with our parents in the Hamptons for the weekend, we have lots of time to explore his whole body."
Her dark brown eyes also gleam with delight at the prospect of exploiting my helpless position.
Kassandra grabs my ankles with one hand, and rakes the soles of my feet with the long fingernails of her other hand. Zara attacks my collarbones with her long fingernails--she knows from experience how very ticklish I am there. I laugh and laugh, and struggle in the ropes. But Kassandra is a professional, and has tied me very securely indeed. As they both keep tickling, Kassandra taunts me.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle, little brother. This is such fun! Tickle, tickle, tickle. And you deserve it, you really do. Tickle, tickle, tickle. You know that my room is private. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Sneaking in and tickling my feet is outrageous! Tickle, tickle, tickle. Now you're in for it. Tickle, tickle, tickle. I don't see why I should ever stop tickling you--it's too much fun to stop. Tickle, tickle, tickle. This is just what you deserve, you little brat! Tickle, tickle, tickle. We'll never stop! We'll tickle you insane. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Such a ticklish little boy! Tickle, tickle, tickle. Zara, could you go to the bathroom and get some toothbrushes?"
Kassandra switches to tickling my ribs, as Zara goes to my own bag of toys and returns with two toothbrushes, one of them electric. As Kassandra digs into my ribs on both sides, I howl with laughter. When Zara pokes the ordinary toothbrush into my armpit, I shriek.
"Oh, that really gets to him," says Kassandra. "Keep it up! Poke him right under the arm. That's good."
During her encouragement to Zara, she never stops kneeding my ribcage, driving me mad. As I howl and thrash, but can't escape, Zara decides that it's her turn to taunt me.
"I'm going to tell all the girls at school what a ticlish baby you are! Tickle, tickle, tickle. We'll gang up on you at recess, and tickle you in the schoolyard. Tickle, tickle, tickle, little baby! Every day at school, from now on. Tickle, tickle, tickle."
Kassandra has taken the electric toothbrush, and is now near my feet, using it between my toes. The effect is devastating. As I laugh helplessly, she takes over the taunting.
"You asked for this, little brat. Tickle, tickle, tickle. By sneaking into my room and tickling me, this is just what you asked for. Tickle, tickle, tickle. You really deserve it. Tickle, tickle, tickle. I've waited for this chance, with our parents away. Tickle, tickle, tickle. I've wanted to do this to you for a long time. Tickle, tickle, tickle. You gave me the opportunity, and now I've got you. Tickle, tickle, tickle. No parents here to protect you. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Just your friend and I, to tickle you endlessly. Tickle, tickle, tickle. So we may just tickle you forever! Tickle, tickle, tickle."
"I want to take some pictures, to show all the girls at school. To show them that he's a naked little ticklish baby, all tied up!" says Zara.
"Sure," says Kassandra, "there's a camera in my parents' room. Go get it."
Zara gets my camera, and takes a picture of Kassandra tickling me. Then Kassandra decides to use me as a throne, sitting on the soles of my feet, with her feet resting on my neck. Zara takes a picture of that, too, and then they change places. Zara uses me as a throne, and Kassandra snaps the photo.
"With these pictures we can blackmail him into letting us do this every time your parents are away," says Zara.
"Yes, and they spend every weekend in the Hamptons in the summer," says Kassandra.
They both laugh at the prospect of tickling me every weekend, and they resume tickling me right then. Zara takes the electric toothbrush, and tickles me on and between my toes. Kassandra comes over to my face, and scrabbles her nails all over my collarbones. Her long dark hair tickles my nose as it flies about. She stares down at me, and I manage to speak in between gales of laughter. I get out one word, "Mercy."
Kassandra looks deep into my eyes as she responds.
"Mercy? We don't even know the meaning of that word in this house. Tickle, tickle, tickle. What you'll get here is more tickling. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Endless tickling. Tickle, tickle, tickle. We'll tickle you until your sides ache. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Until you're blue in the face. Tickle, tickle, tickle. We'll never stop! Tickle, tickle, tickle. We'll keep on tickling you until ... "
She is interrupted by a knock on the door of the Red Room. Zara goes to see who it is, and two more mistresses enter the room.
"It's two girls who live next door," explains Zara. "They heard a lot of laughing, and they came over to see what's going on here."
"It's just my little brat of a brother," says Kassandra to the newcomers, "and we're teaching him a lesson. He had the nerve to tickle my bare feet. So we're tickling him as punishment. Would you like to help?"
They eagerly agree, and soon I'm being tickled by 40 moving fingers. I howl and shriek with new energy as all of them tickle and tickle, grinning in joy at my helpless state. They soon have me reduced to a quivering lump of ticklish flesh, hardly able to struggle under their attentions. They tickle and tickle, and every moment seems like an eternity to me.
"I can't get at his underarms well enough," says Zara, although she is doing quite a good job poking the toothbrush into one of them.
"Then let's change his position, and stretch him out," suggests Kassandra.
"But let's leave his ankles tied as we move him," says Zara, "so he has no chance to run away."
"With four of us here, he couldn't get away anyway," says Kassandra.
They untie the rope holding my ankles to my wrists, and then untie my wrists. All four of them are looking down at me, daring me to try to get away. I am wise enough to make no such attempt, and to stay silent. Kassandra and Zara flip me over onto my back, and Kassamdra holds my arms as Zara ties my wrists together again, this time stretched up over my head. My bound wrists are then tied to a leg of the heavy bondage table, and my bound ankles to a leg of the couch. I am stretched out, naked, more exposed than before.
Kassandra takes the camera, and tells the other three to resume tickling me. She takes a photo of it, and then joins them, so once again there are 40 fingers tickling me at the same time. As it drives me mad, she stares deep into my eyes and taunts me.
"Isn't my little brother cute when he's all tied up and helpless? Tickle, tickle, tickle. This is the only way that I like the little brat--completely helpless, in bondage. Tickle, tickle, tickle. He's so cute this way, and so vulnerable. Tickle, tickle, tickle. We'll keep him tied up all weekend. Tickle, tickle, tickle. That's the way you should be, little brat! Tickle, tickle, tickle. Such a ticklish little baby boy! Tickle, tickle, tickle. But you are making too much noise. Tickle, tickle, tickle. We don't want to attract the attention of anybody else. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Does anybody have a sweaty, grimy sock to use as a gag? Tickle, tickle, tickle, little helpless baby boy! Tickle, tickle, tickle."
I would love to have the taste of Mistress Zara's sweaty sock in my mouth, but it is a hot day, and she, now barefoot, wore sandals. So did Kassandra herself, and the other two mistresses are wearing stockings. With no sock available, Zara gets an Ace bandage from my bag of toys, and uses it as a gag, wrapping it around my head and tying it in place.
My laughter is now muffled. Zara, delighted that my arms are stretch over my head, is digging into both of my armpits. The two guests are ticking my ribs and thighs. Kassandra is raking my soles with her fingernails, and again speaking to me.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle. Quiet now, aren't you, little brat? Tickle, tickle, tickle. Usually you have a big mouth, and you talk back to me all the time. Tickle, tickle, tickle. It's nice to have you gagged. Tickle, tickle, tickle. And very nice to have you helpless, utterly helpless. Tickle, tickle, tickle. You're never going to tickle me again, do you hear? Tickle, tickle, tickle. Never! And your dear friend Zara and I are going to tickle you often. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Is that clear to you? Or copies of these pictures will be all over your school. Tickle, tickle, tickle. You're going to be our tickle toy, from now on. Tickle, tickle, tickle. We're going to tickle you insane."
All four of them keep tickling me furiously, and I am exhausted. I'm sweating a lot, and my back is stuck to the floor mat. My diaphragm aches from laughing so much, and my armpits are red and sore. Kassandra has moved up to my hip bones. She has been digging in, and has found me to be quite ticklish there also. Just when I think I can't bear it any longer, the two guests get up to leave. Kassandra and Zara thank them for joining our session, and remove my gag, so I can thank them, too. But Zara and Kassandra keep right on tickling me.
"It's your job," says Kassandra, "to see that he gets gang tickled every day at school, during recess and during lunch period."
"Sure," says Zara, "I'll tell all the girls at school."
"And I'll tie him up and tickle him every day after school, before our parents come home from work."
"And I can come over every weekend, with your parents in the Hamptons?"
"Of course! Every weekend. And don't forget summer camp. This year I'll be a counselor there. We can keep him prisoner in a cabin in the girls' camp. I can get the other counselors to agree to it. We'll tickle torture him all summer long, and hundreds of girls at the camp will help us and join in."
They never stop tickling me, never for a moment, as they plan my future torment. I am in tickle agony, as Kassandra now sits on my chest, tickling my collarbones, and Zara sits on my legs, tickling my soles. I manage to speak, looking up at Kassandra's beautiful face.
"Oh, Kassandra, what a gleam of sadistic joy you have in your eyes."
Kassandra laughs, and asks Zara to document it. Zara gets the camera again, and takes a shot of Kassandra's gleeful face, as she sits on me and tickles my collarbones.
I am clearly utterly exhausted, covered with sweat, quivering helplessly, tickled senseless. Kassandra looks at her watch.
"It's been forty minutes of tickling. He's had enough of it. But it's also time for the rest of his punishment."
She gets off my chest, and the two of them untie me.
[to be continued in this thread]
This is a nonfiction account of a roleplay session with Mistress Zara and Mistress Kassandra. The session took place in June 2003. All of the participants were over 21 years of age.
This is an F/m story with descriptions of domination and foot worship as well as tickle torture. It contains some adult material. If any of this might offend you, then don't read it.
The Provocation (FF/m)
by Milagros
Part One
-----------
I am waiting on my hands and knees in the Red Room of the dungeon, in eager anticipation. In today's roleplay, I have the role of a schoolboy, Mistress Zara of my classmate, and Mistress Kassandra of my older sister, six years older than I am. (In actual fact, I am in my 50's and both Mistresses are in their 20's.) The scene is a Saturday morning at our house, with our parents away, and my friend from school visiting.
Mistresses Zara and Kassandra enter and greet me. Not yet in characgter, Mistress Kassandra warns me that it's one thing to have a fantasy and write a script, and quite another to endure it in real life. She tells me that she intends to deliver in full measure, and is not sure that I can take it.
I am wearing my underwear, unusual for a session, because it is called for in the script. Mistress Kassandra sits on the couch, takes her sandals off, and picks up the copy of "Natural History" magazine that I've brought. She now curls up on the couch, bare feet exposed, pretending to be entirely engrossed in reading. She's wearing a short skirt. Pale blue polish on her toenails goes well with her gleaming black hair. Mistress Zara, also in a short skirt, has gorgeous red hair, and pink polish on her toenails.
Mistress Zara assumes her role as my classmate, visiting my house that morning. She whispers in my ear.
"Go over there quietly, sneak up on your sister, and tickle her feet. Do it!"
Under this provocation, I can't resist. I crawl quietly over to the couch, advancing slowly. Still engrossed in the magazine, Kassandra doesn't notice my approach. I extend a finger, and run it the length of her lovely bare sole.
"Cut that out!" she yells at me.
But I don't obey; instead I scrabble all ten fingers across both of her soles. She laughs and pulls her feet away from me.
"Now you're going to get it, little brother."
In a second, she pounces on me from the couch. She is sitting on my back, as I lie face down on the floor. (Actually, on a cofortable mat placed in front of the couch before we began.)
"Zara, get me the clothesline from the garage," says Kassandra, "because I need to teach this little brat a lesson."
As Zara goes away, Kassandra addresses me.
"The nerve of you! You're not even allowed to come into my room, much less sneak up on me and tickle me. How dare you? I'm going to strip you naked, just to humiliate you in front of your friend."
She shifts her position, but is still sitting on me, as she tears off my undershirt. Then she moves again, and pulls down my underpants. Zara returns and sees her pull them off. Both women are laughing at me.
"Wow, you stripped him!" Zara exclaims, as she hands over several ropes, which she has gotten from the supply cabinet.
Kassandra grabs my wrists and ties them together securely, as Zara taunts me.
"You're naked! I'm going to tell everybody at school that I saw you naked."
She crouches down to taunt me face to face, as Kassandra now grabs my ankles and ties them together very securely. With Zara's help, I am soon in a classic hogtie, on my belly with wrists and ankles bound together above me, behind my back.
"There's something that you should know about my brother, Zara. He's ticklish. Extremely ticklish."
A look sadistic delight is in her green eyes, as she asks "Where is he ticklish?"
"Everywhere!" answers Kassandra. "And with our parents in the Hamptons for the weekend, we have lots of time to explore his whole body."
Her dark brown eyes also gleam with delight at the prospect of exploiting my helpless position.
Kassandra grabs my ankles with one hand, and rakes the soles of my feet with the long fingernails of her other hand. Zara attacks my collarbones with her long fingernails--she knows from experience how very ticklish I am there. I laugh and laugh, and struggle in the ropes. But Kassandra is a professional, and has tied me very securely indeed. As they both keep tickling, Kassandra taunts me.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle, little brother. This is such fun! Tickle, tickle, tickle. And you deserve it, you really do. Tickle, tickle, tickle. You know that my room is private. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Sneaking in and tickling my feet is outrageous! Tickle, tickle, tickle. Now you're in for it. Tickle, tickle, tickle. I don't see why I should ever stop tickling you--it's too much fun to stop. Tickle, tickle, tickle. This is just what you deserve, you little brat! Tickle, tickle, tickle. We'll never stop! We'll tickle you insane. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Such a ticklish little boy! Tickle, tickle, tickle. Zara, could you go to the bathroom and get some toothbrushes?"
Kassandra switches to tickling my ribs, as Zara goes to my own bag of toys and returns with two toothbrushes, one of them electric. As Kassandra digs into my ribs on both sides, I howl with laughter. When Zara pokes the ordinary toothbrush into my armpit, I shriek.
"Oh, that really gets to him," says Kassandra. "Keep it up! Poke him right under the arm. That's good."
During her encouragement to Zara, she never stops kneeding my ribcage, driving me mad. As I howl and thrash, but can't escape, Zara decides that it's her turn to taunt me.
"I'm going to tell all the girls at school what a ticlish baby you are! Tickle, tickle, tickle. We'll gang up on you at recess, and tickle you in the schoolyard. Tickle, tickle, tickle, little baby! Every day at school, from now on. Tickle, tickle, tickle."
Kassandra has taken the electric toothbrush, and is now near my feet, using it between my toes. The effect is devastating. As I laugh helplessly, she takes over the taunting.
"You asked for this, little brat. Tickle, tickle, tickle. By sneaking into my room and tickling me, this is just what you asked for. Tickle, tickle, tickle. You really deserve it. Tickle, tickle, tickle. I've waited for this chance, with our parents away. Tickle, tickle, tickle. I've wanted to do this to you for a long time. Tickle, tickle, tickle. You gave me the opportunity, and now I've got you. Tickle, tickle, tickle. No parents here to protect you. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Just your friend and I, to tickle you endlessly. Tickle, tickle, tickle. So we may just tickle you forever! Tickle, tickle, tickle."
"I want to take some pictures, to show all the girls at school. To show them that he's a naked little ticklish baby, all tied up!" says Zara.
"Sure," says Kassandra, "there's a camera in my parents' room. Go get it."
Zara gets my camera, and takes a picture of Kassandra tickling me. Then Kassandra decides to use me as a throne, sitting on the soles of my feet, with her feet resting on my neck. Zara takes a picture of that, too, and then they change places. Zara uses me as a throne, and Kassandra snaps the photo.
"With these pictures we can blackmail him into letting us do this every time your parents are away," says Zara.
"Yes, and they spend every weekend in the Hamptons in the summer," says Kassandra.
They both laugh at the prospect of tickling me every weekend, and they resume tickling me right then. Zara takes the electric toothbrush, and tickles me on and between my toes. Kassandra comes over to my face, and scrabbles her nails all over my collarbones. Her long dark hair tickles my nose as it flies about. She stares down at me, and I manage to speak in between gales of laughter. I get out one word, "Mercy."
Kassandra looks deep into my eyes as she responds.
"Mercy? We don't even know the meaning of that word in this house. Tickle, tickle, tickle. What you'll get here is more tickling. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Endless tickling. Tickle, tickle, tickle. We'll tickle you until your sides ache. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Until you're blue in the face. Tickle, tickle, tickle. We'll never stop! Tickle, tickle, tickle. We'll keep on tickling you until ... "
She is interrupted by a knock on the door of the Red Room. Zara goes to see who it is, and two more mistresses enter the room.
"It's two girls who live next door," explains Zara. "They heard a lot of laughing, and they came over to see what's going on here."
"It's just my little brat of a brother," says Kassandra to the newcomers, "and we're teaching him a lesson. He had the nerve to tickle my bare feet. So we're tickling him as punishment. Would you like to help?"
They eagerly agree, and soon I'm being tickled by 40 moving fingers. I howl and shriek with new energy as all of them tickle and tickle, grinning in joy at my helpless state. They soon have me reduced to a quivering lump of ticklish flesh, hardly able to struggle under their attentions. They tickle and tickle, and every moment seems like an eternity to me.
"I can't get at his underarms well enough," says Zara, although she is doing quite a good job poking the toothbrush into one of them.
"Then let's change his position, and stretch him out," suggests Kassandra.
"But let's leave his ankles tied as we move him," says Zara, "so he has no chance to run away."
"With four of us here, he couldn't get away anyway," says Kassandra.
They untie the rope holding my ankles to my wrists, and then untie my wrists. All four of them are looking down at me, daring me to try to get away. I am wise enough to make no such attempt, and to stay silent. Kassandra and Zara flip me over onto my back, and Kassamdra holds my arms as Zara ties my wrists together again, this time stretched up over my head. My bound wrists are then tied to a leg of the heavy bondage table, and my bound ankles to a leg of the couch. I am stretched out, naked, more exposed than before.
Kassandra takes the camera, and tells the other three to resume tickling me. She takes a photo of it, and then joins them, so once again there are 40 fingers tickling me at the same time. As it drives me mad, she stares deep into my eyes and taunts me.
"Isn't my little brother cute when he's all tied up and helpless? Tickle, tickle, tickle. This is the only way that I like the little brat--completely helpless, in bondage. Tickle, tickle, tickle. He's so cute this way, and so vulnerable. Tickle, tickle, tickle. We'll keep him tied up all weekend. Tickle, tickle, tickle. That's the way you should be, little brat! Tickle, tickle, tickle. Such a ticklish little baby boy! Tickle, tickle, tickle. But you are making too much noise. Tickle, tickle, tickle. We don't want to attract the attention of anybody else. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Does anybody have a sweaty, grimy sock to use as a gag? Tickle, tickle, tickle, little helpless baby boy! Tickle, tickle, tickle."
I would love to have the taste of Mistress Zara's sweaty sock in my mouth, but it is a hot day, and she, now barefoot, wore sandals. So did Kassandra herself, and the other two mistresses are wearing stockings. With no sock available, Zara gets an Ace bandage from my bag of toys, and uses it as a gag, wrapping it around my head and tying it in place.
My laughter is now muffled. Zara, delighted that my arms are stretch over my head, is digging into both of my armpits. The two guests are ticking my ribs and thighs. Kassandra is raking my soles with her fingernails, and again speaking to me.
"Tickle, tickle, tickle. Quiet now, aren't you, little brat? Tickle, tickle, tickle. Usually you have a big mouth, and you talk back to me all the time. Tickle, tickle, tickle. It's nice to have you gagged. Tickle, tickle, tickle. And very nice to have you helpless, utterly helpless. Tickle, tickle, tickle. You're never going to tickle me again, do you hear? Tickle, tickle, tickle. Never! And your dear friend Zara and I are going to tickle you often. Tickle, tickle, tickle. Is that clear to you? Or copies of these pictures will be all over your school. Tickle, tickle, tickle. You're going to be our tickle toy, from now on. Tickle, tickle, tickle. We're going to tickle you insane."
All four of them keep tickling me furiously, and I am exhausted. I'm sweating a lot, and my back is stuck to the floor mat. My diaphragm aches from laughing so much, and my armpits are red and sore. Kassandra has moved up to my hip bones. She has been digging in, and has found me to be quite ticklish there also. Just when I think I can't bear it any longer, the two guests get up to leave. Kassandra and Zara thank them for joining our session, and remove my gag, so I can thank them, too. But Zara and Kassandra keep right on tickling me.
"It's your job," says Kassandra, "to see that he gets gang tickled every day at school, during recess and during lunch period."
"Sure," says Zara, "I'll tell all the girls at school."
"And I'll tie him up and tickle him every day after school, before our parents come home from work."
"And I can come over every weekend, with your parents in the Hamptons?"
"Of course! Every weekend. And don't forget summer camp. This year I'll be a counselor there. We can keep him prisoner in a cabin in the girls' camp. I can get the other counselors to agree to it. We'll tickle torture him all summer long, and hundreds of girls at the camp will help us and join in."
They never stop tickling me, never for a moment, as they plan my future torment. I am in tickle agony, as Kassandra now sits on my chest, tickling my collarbones, and Zara sits on my legs, tickling my soles. I manage to speak, looking up at Kassandra's beautiful face.
"Oh, Kassandra, what a gleam of sadistic joy you have in your eyes."
Kassandra laughs, and asks Zara to document it. Zara gets the camera again, and takes a shot of Kassandra's gleeful face, as she sits on me and tickles my collarbones.
I am clearly utterly exhausted, covered with sweat, quivering helplessly, tickled senseless. Kassandra looks at her watch.
"It's been forty minutes of tickling. He's had enough of it. But it's also time for the rest of his punishment."
She gets off my chest, and the two of them untie me.
[to be continued in this thread]
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