Tickled to Be Here!

by Ty Knott

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© Copyright 2002 - Ty Knott - Used by permission

Storycodes: M/f; bondage; tickling; cons; X

Tickled to Be Here!
by Ty Knott
Tickled to Be Here! by Ty Knott

The bindings felt soft against your skin. Soft yet unyielding. You tried to look around but you were unable to see under the dark mask that covered your eyes. The bed was comfortable beneath you and you were naked on top of it. You could feel me watching, could hear my breathing quicken as you shifted on the bed testing your bonds. Your body trembled and your own breathing speeded up, as if you had run a race. You had to calm down. You didn't know exactly what was in store, but for the moment you had to stay calm. You could feel my entire focus on your body and you could see the view you presented from my eyes. Your arms and legs spread out to the four corners of the bed. Your hair spread out against the pillow. Your breasts rising and falling with every breath. Your nipples hardening under my scrutiny. Much to your embarrassment, you could feel your body responding, the wetness between your legs betraying you. 

And still I make you wait. 

A sound of movement alerts you to my location. Without warning, the palm of my hand cradles the sole of your right foot. This small action demonstrating how truly vulnerable you are more effectively than words. I remove my hand, leaving behind a warmth and tingling that carries its message to your very core. 

You feel the tip of one finger as it draws small circles on your big toe. Then a long slow trace down the length of your foot ending its journey at your ankle. You could not control the sensations that caused your foot to jerk at my gentle touch. Again the warmth of my palm as my hand caresses its way up your leg. Pausing for a brief instant, I tantalize the back of your knee with a quick tickle. 

Your thigh is not spared either the warming caress of my palm or the tickle from the tips of my fingers. The top of your thigh receives the warmth. Your inner thigh twitches and stirs under my fingers as they tease, tickle and tantalize higher and higher. The lightest sheen of sweat films over your body. Shamelessly you squirm, needing to feel my fingers on the heat of you. My fingers skim across the light covering of hair. You were trembling. So close, so very close. . .Your hips arched off the bed to complete the contact. My chuckle increases your dismay at the disappearance of my hand. Your moan, poignant in its frustration. 

"Not yet my dear. . . not just yet" My voice just loud enough to be heard over your moan. 

"Please," you whisper, not even caring that I have you begging so early this time. 

The feel of my tongue on your nipple makes you jump then sigh at the erotic sensations. The light scrape of teeth electrifies every nerve ending. As my teeth held one nipple captive, my fingers began to randomly trace patterns on your other breast. My teeth give up their claim on your nipple and the coolness of the air makes it even harder. You could not stop what little movement was allowed to you within the restraints. Then it happened. Suddenly the fingers that had been teasing and tantalizing became masters of their true craft. Tickling sensations racked your body and overwhelmed your mind and nervous system in waves. Lost in the erotic haze of the previous sensations, you have no time to build any defense against the tickling. You can't tell where you were more ticklish; the parts that had been touched or the parts that hadn't. It didn't matter! I now control you completely. No part of you is safe from my tickling. 

Even through your laughter you are aware of your body and how I toy with it. No area of skin is spared my touch. . . except for the one place you need me the most. There are moments when you believe you would go mad. Your feet are now my targets, and I am relentless. You feel me pull your toes back, taking my time, allowing you to catch what breath you could. You begged, you pleaded through your breathing/recovery time. It never occurs to you how those very pleas fuel my desire to tickle you even more. 

Gone are the lightest of teasing touches on the bottom of your foot. It is now an all out tickle attack and your foot serves as the battle ground. Your mind becomes blurred with the sensations. My nails are brought into play, never painful, but relentless in their role in the tickling that occurs. I sense whenever you seem as if you've become immune to my ministrations and move on. Never one to take anything for granted I ignore your other foot for the moment and pursue other areas. 

The softest of strokes across your belly announce my arrival. A long pause. You are allowed to catch your breath and anticipate my next caress. The seconds draw out and you become as unnerved by the waiting as you are by the actual tickling. A part of you wishes you could see my face at this moment of waiting. . . you can't seem to stop moving. You can't control the softer giggles that escape even though you am not being touched. Your body releases a deep ragged breath. "Please. . . please no more tickling!" You no longer care that I have reduced you to this level of begging. Perhaps in the days that follow you will look back and scoff at your weakness.
Perhaps. . . 

"Who do you belong to?" 

I lean over you as I voice that question. 


"Come now my ticklish little pet, who do you belong to?" 

This particular game makes us both hot for different reasons. You, because you are never even the least bit submissive out of the bedroom and even then, our play never includes the words 'slave' or 'master'. Agreeing with that when we first started playing, I take great joy in coming up with a whole host of other words to take the place of those. You are galled by very idea of admitting any such thing to me; yet on the other hand you are impressed with the creativity that I employ to work around your rules. I, on the other hand have always loved to match wits and intellect with you and love nothing more than to make you beg and squirm and in the end. . . submit. 

Silence. . . 

Ever so slowly my fingers begin the torture they were so well designed for. My memory serves me well and you are hysterical as I explore every sensitive area along your stomach and sides. My fingers dance and play, lightly then firmer. Softly prodding and light pokes to the sides. The effect guaranteed to drive you insane. 

"And now for the ultimate," You hear me announce through your laughter,screams, threats and curses. One fingertip circles your navel. 

"Noooooo........." You cry out. Sinking your belly in as flat as possible to your spine then arching up in a totally involuntary movement. 

"Please no. . . not there. . . not there!" 

"Who do you belong to?" 

You only shake your head in denial. 

That one finger and the sensations emanating from your navel became your entire focus. This was one of the places that can bring you to your knees. Sensations from there travel throughout your entire body. My fingertip first circles outward. Small, complete little circles that you could not escape from. Then I reverse the process and the circles became smaller and smaller as I prepared you for what was sure to come. Under the blindfold your eyes squint tightly closed as if to ward off the maddening sensations. Tears escaped the corners of your eyes and your laughter echoed through the room. 

As you wait for the finger to make it's first foray into that soft indentation in your belly my finger leaves you and you can feel me step away from the bed. Your laughter evens out to uncontrollable giggles and you squirm from the sensations that still run along your nerve endings. 

"You're still giggling and I'm not even touching you" I say in a teasing voice. 

Your head automatically turns towards the sound of my voice. 

"Don't worry my dear; this is not over. I just wanted to get a little something." 

"Please no. . . no more. . . I can't take it." Your plea heart-wrenching in its sincerity. 

"Are you prepared to answer my question?" 

"Please. . . please. No more. . . " You are ashamed at how weak you sound. 

"I'll ask again, perhaps you do not remember the question... Who do you belong to?" 

Your resolve strengthens. You become mute. The only outward sign that you even heard me is the negative shake of your head. For a moment me soft laughter fills the room. 

"Not to worry my dear, I'll help loosen your tongue and change your mind" 

With that statement something small, soft and fuzzy traced down the center of your nose.That small distraction made my return to your navel completely startling. Your body jerked and trembled as I once again began to make outward circles from your navel. The circles were a bit broader now and touched more and more of your stomach. You could only giggle and twist but my finger never lost its course. Reversing the directions of my circles I begin my return to your navel. The circling became slower and slower. Your focus becomes the agonizing wait for that finger to once again reach its destination. You couldn't help the scream that escaped as the q-tip I held in my other hand made it's first descent into that indentation. 

Sensations overwhelm you as you try to deal with the finger that never ceases it's circling and the unbearable feel of the q-tip. Laughter, and cries for mercy blend together. You thrash about as much as the bonds will allow, trying to dislodge both my finger and the q-tip. Seconds become hours as I ignore your pleas for mercy and continue to tickle. You are slowly being driven mad. The q-tip stopped it's teasing explorations as my finger reached it's destination. Poking gently I allow you no rest. I can feel you weakening physically and emotionally. Suddenly surrender does not seem such a distasteful option. Through your laughter and pleading you feel my finger leave only to be replaced by my tongue. The warmth and wetness joining in to tickle, pushing you closer to the edge. Your body moves of its own accord, all illusion of any semblance of control is stripped away. 

My hands move a bit lower to hold your hips steady and my tongue never stops. My thumbs find the slight indentation where your inner thighs meet your groin. The softest of strokes there, enough to short circuit your nervous system. Totally out of control now, you do nothing but respond. On a distant level you are aware of your pelvis straining to make contact with any part of me. It is as if you know that one touch to your clit or for that matter any where in the general area will ignite the climax you so desperately need to cancel out the tickling. 

"You need to cum, don't you? You want me to carry you over the edge?" 

"Please," you cried out through sobbing laughter. 

"Who do you belong to, little one?" My tone, casually indulgent 

You feel me back away, the warmth from my body receding a bit. You can still feel the wetness from my tongue, and sensation still courses throughout your body. My hands leave your hips and you move with uncontrollable need. Your body wordlessly offering. . . begging for the touch you need the most. I'm close enough that you can feel me walk around the bed. Your hips thrust again, demanding my attention. One finger traces patterns on the big toe of the foot ignored earlier. I know that you will not be able to take much more. You felt more sensitized that you have ever been in your entire life. Your ankle is freed from the bed post. The restraint remains and I elevate your foot. At the first feel of the tip of my tongue on your arch, your electrified reaction almost allows for escape. Not to be caught off guard a second time, I wrap the end of the restraint around and around my hand. Holding your foot with both hands, I apply the lightest scraping of teeth to the ball of your foot.

"Please. . . " you cry out as my tongue follows the path of my teeth. Once again the feel of my teeth gently scraping the underside of your big toe, my tongue quick to follow. Holding your foot I can feel the trembling that racks your body. I kneel on the bed between your thighs. You can feel the warmth of me getting closer and closer. I have not released the hold of the tether around your ankle, and your leg bends to accommodate the foot that is slowly drawn up. A soft puff of air blows across your clit. 

"Please," you whimper. 

My tongue passes over your clit, once. Heaven! Still you need more. . . 

"Again, please. . . I need to cum so bad. Please don't stop" 

"Who do you belong to. . . ?" 

You try so hard to resist. 

My finger lightly touches your clit then another breath of air. 

"Answer me angel, who do you belong to?" 

"You !" I hear you sob, breaking down completely. "Only you. . . " 

My reaction is instantaneous. My tongue caresses your clit. At the same time my hand slowly strokes the bottom of your foot. Unable to withstand the dual sensations for more than a few seconds, you explode around me. Tremor upon tremor overtakes you, and I do not stop. My tongue laps gently at you, and I caress you with one then two fingers. My hand traces lazy patterns across the bottom of your foot and you cum again. You are released soon after only to be enfolded in my warm embrace. You drift off to sleep protected and safe. My lips brush against your temple.

"You angel. . . only you. . . "