Miss Katrina Black (Twitter: @xxxfistalot) went first. Her friends, all barefoot in athleticwear, had cuffed my four limbs splayed out face up on the padded leather bondage table. She produced a pair of scissors and snipped a small tear in my flimsy gray T-shirt above my belly, just enough to wiggle her fingers inside and get my heart racing with her tickle teasing. Moments later she gripped it with her ultra-lean bodybuilder’s physique and tore it clean open. For five minutes she spider tickled me from my nipples down, low enough to occasionally slide beneath my shorts to my hips.
She pulled some of the T-shirt tatters over my eyes so that I couldn’t see her switch out with Lady Mynx. She’s lithe, a blonde dancer, with nails nearly as sharp as a cat’s claws, and a sensually purring personality to match. She applied the scissors to my blue shorts and made quick work of them to expose the boxers underneath. She repeatedly traced those nails all along my waist and thighs, eventually down to my right sneaker. The laces were tight but she tugged the shoe off forcefully, then cut off my ankle sock. They knew from experience that my feet are my second most ticklish spot, so she used the remainder of her time to feast on them.
Miss Ara (@dominaaralee), on tour from California with an exotic allure of her Asian heritage, was on me next. Her playground was my armpits, after dispatching what remained of the T-shirt to clear the way. She used her French-tip manicured nails to perfection, teasing with a babying tone as she worked her way up and down my arms. Later she also made her way to my left sneaker, untying it slowly and slipping off the sock to heighten the anticipation. She focused soft tickles under my toes since she knew how arousing that was for me.
Her shift ended when Miss Alexandra (@MsAlexandraS) sprung a surprise attack from beneath the table. A distance runner with a special flair for breathy whispers, she stripped my last defense – the boxers -- with the scissors, tossing the remains to the floor. For the next 90 minutes, at least one of them was regularly tickling my genitals.
After they’d had their warm up with me, they covered my eyes and did a few gang sneak attacks. Since we’d played before, they goofed around sometimes pretending to be running away or leaving the room. They’re friends and laugh nearly as much as me. It always ended with me thrashing around, unable to keep track of all the places the eight hands were tickling.
The physical challenge phase was next. I’m in decent shape so was barely able to hold a plank position on my elbows while they set a 60-second timer and tickled me all over. We progressed to four other plank challenges. They played fair in the sense of the timer, but did everything else to distract me. This was also the first time the three soft-bristled electric toothbrushes came out – with my junk hanging down it was such easy prey to torment, along with my bare bottom, open armpits and planted feet.
We moved on to “art class.” I was tied upright to an X-frame. They produced about 10 soft makeup brushes of all sizes/shapes, poured baby oil into a cup, and painted me lightly as their canvas. The sensations of the brushes on my back, stomach and feet were tickly enough, let alone the extra slipperiness of the oil. Of course, they had full access to me from behind to gently tickle my butt, ears, neck and get me squirming as much as my bondage would allow. They used my helplessness to do another couple of hold-still challenges. In one of them they placed an empty plastic cup on my head and dared me not to let it fall, or even to laugh. I had no way to win these, since they did a slow manual timer and started counting down by fractions after they got below one. The scent and sensation of multiple baby oiled brushes sliding along my cock while trying not to tremble will be a memory for quite a while. I nearly orgasmed but they’re very experienced and gave just enough little pauses.
Finally, they brought me to a spanking bench. They knelt me on it, then leaned me backward. This was such a pleasant surprise. Years earlier I’d come across an image of a man in this position being erotically tickle tortured by two skillful women; this was a double-dream brought to life.
View attachment 739138
There were 10 minutes left in the two-hour session and I nearly lasted all of it. They were laughing along with my squirming, giggling and moaning, too persuasive and well-equipped with all my secrets. My feet were hanging freely exposed, Lady Mynx and Miss Alexandra were sensually exploring my arches, heels and scraping under my toes. The others knelt in front of me, supplying a steady reapplication of oil and now, a vibrator.
My brain was firing ecstatically by now. Their playful teasing (“Kitchy kitchy kitchy…”, “Tickle tickle tickle…”) and the relentless humming of the vibrator in my ears. The ticklish energy surging from the soles of my feet to my genitals. The slippery, irresistibly devious glide strokes and utter immobility of my shaft, held carefully in place by a firm hand. The view of smiling, beautiful women so delightedly focused on their task. I was already extra weakened by over a week of sexual fasting in preparation, and completely overwhelmed. The finish was intense.
After I’d showered and put on a fresh set of clothes from my bag, I floated through the Chicago streets.
She pulled some of the T-shirt tatters over my eyes so that I couldn’t see her switch out with Lady Mynx. She’s lithe, a blonde dancer, with nails nearly as sharp as a cat’s claws, and a sensually purring personality to match. She applied the scissors to my blue shorts and made quick work of them to expose the boxers underneath. She repeatedly traced those nails all along my waist and thighs, eventually down to my right sneaker. The laces were tight but she tugged the shoe off forcefully, then cut off my ankle sock. They knew from experience that my feet are my second most ticklish spot, so she used the remainder of her time to feast on them.
Miss Ara (@dominaaralee), on tour from California with an exotic allure of her Asian heritage, was on me next. Her playground was my armpits, after dispatching what remained of the T-shirt to clear the way. She used her French-tip manicured nails to perfection, teasing with a babying tone as she worked her way up and down my arms. Later she also made her way to my left sneaker, untying it slowly and slipping off the sock to heighten the anticipation. She focused soft tickles under my toes since she knew how arousing that was for me.
Her shift ended when Miss Alexandra (@MsAlexandraS) sprung a surprise attack from beneath the table. A distance runner with a special flair for breathy whispers, she stripped my last defense – the boxers -- with the scissors, tossing the remains to the floor. For the next 90 minutes, at least one of them was regularly tickling my genitals.
After they’d had their warm up with me, they covered my eyes and did a few gang sneak attacks. Since we’d played before, they goofed around sometimes pretending to be running away or leaving the room. They’re friends and laugh nearly as much as me. It always ended with me thrashing around, unable to keep track of all the places the eight hands were tickling.
The physical challenge phase was next. I’m in decent shape so was barely able to hold a plank position on my elbows while they set a 60-second timer and tickled me all over. We progressed to four other plank challenges. They played fair in the sense of the timer, but did everything else to distract me. This was also the first time the three soft-bristled electric toothbrushes came out – with my junk hanging down it was such easy prey to torment, along with my bare bottom, open armpits and planted feet.
We moved on to “art class.” I was tied upright to an X-frame. They produced about 10 soft makeup brushes of all sizes/shapes, poured baby oil into a cup, and painted me lightly as their canvas. The sensations of the brushes on my back, stomach and feet were tickly enough, let alone the extra slipperiness of the oil. Of course, they had full access to me from behind to gently tickle my butt, ears, neck and get me squirming as much as my bondage would allow. They used my helplessness to do another couple of hold-still challenges. In one of them they placed an empty plastic cup on my head and dared me not to let it fall, or even to laugh. I had no way to win these, since they did a slow manual timer and started counting down by fractions after they got below one. The scent and sensation of multiple baby oiled brushes sliding along my cock while trying not to tremble will be a memory for quite a while. I nearly orgasmed but they’re very experienced and gave just enough little pauses.
Finally, they brought me to a spanking bench. They knelt me on it, then leaned me backward. This was such a pleasant surprise. Years earlier I’d come across an image of a man in this position being erotically tickle tortured by two skillful women; this was a double-dream brought to life.
View attachment 739138
There were 10 minutes left in the two-hour session and I nearly lasted all of it. They were laughing along with my squirming, giggling and moaning, too persuasive and well-equipped with all my secrets. My feet were hanging freely exposed, Lady Mynx and Miss Alexandra were sensually exploring my arches, heels and scraping under my toes. The others knelt in front of me, supplying a steady reapplication of oil and now, a vibrator.
My brain was firing ecstatically by now. Their playful teasing (“Kitchy kitchy kitchy…”, “Tickle tickle tickle…”) and the relentless humming of the vibrator in my ears. The ticklish energy surging from the soles of my feet to my genitals. The slippery, irresistibly devious glide strokes and utter immobility of my shaft, held carefully in place by a firm hand. The view of smiling, beautiful women so delightedly focused on their task. I was already extra weakened by over a week of sexual fasting in preparation, and completely overwhelmed. The finish was intense.
After I’d showered and put on a fresh set of clothes from my bag, I floated through the Chicago streets.
