I fantasize about walking into a room at night and finding my ticklee tied, just in the pose I left her: completely immobile and vulnerable, offering me full access to her vulnerable, still clothed body, yet in no way uncomfortable. She would be blindfolded, to accent her helplessness.
Prior to this, when I tied her up like this in the first place, I would leave the room, to go and get myself a glass of water quickly, to leave her in anticipation and show her just how helpless she was. I would also get another glass of water for her... she would need it later.
After walking into the room, I would quietly put the glass down and take my time to observe her beautiful body, moonlight spilling all over it, drawing out her contours, dimly shining on her peaks and valleys. I would be circling around her, both letting her anticipate the inevitable fate and giving myself more time to truly take in her beauty.
And then, I would slowly approach her, gently placing my hands on her, letting her shiver from the first touch she anticipated for so long. Then, I would slowly start whispering slow words containing her destiny for the session. Slowly, word by word, I would describe her all the things that await her. I would not be concentrating on concrete methods, but on the feelings I will evoke in her. I would tell her how I would use slow, maddening strokes to carefully break her again and again, how I would make her beg me to undress her, piece by piece, specifying the piece each and every time.
Then, ever-so-slowly starting the tickling by slowly circling my fingers, barely touching her skin, I would continue my story of her future predicaments. I would tell her all about how I'd have her choosing between many tickle tools, even begging me to tickle her more. And then, I would tell her how, ultimately, she would be brought to that beautiful state between heaven and hell, where she is so close to orgasm that she can already smell it, only to have it denied from her again and again, but kept on border all along. I would whisper how I would make her uncertain whether to beg me to stop, or to go on.
And then, ultimately, I would tell her what she knew was coming to her anyway: she would break, sooner or later. She would break and start to cry, ready to do anything for me to... stop?... go on? In her state, she wouldn't know which to beg for, but one thing would be clear to her: I am the Master, and she is my Slave. My word is the law. There is no backtalk. There is only obedience. Whatever her Master wishes, it will be her pleasure to obey, even if it means begging to be tickled more, begging with all she was worth to have her helpless body tickled.
And last, but not the least, increasing the tempo a bit, but still keeping the tickles very, very light, more of a threat and a promise of what is to come than actual tickling, I would whisper soft promise of making her submit completely before me and begging me to take her, to make love to her. I would also whisper to her that then, finally, her pleas would be answered, and I would indeed take her, and make such passionate love to her until we would both be completely exhausted... maybe even fall unconscious from it.
And then, step by step, I would take great care in making my words come true.
That is my fantasy.