The Submission - Part 3
You pick up the paint brush in one hand and the feather in the other. You again position yourself at the bottom of the bed.
I startle as each implement makes contact with the soles of my feet. I giggle and squirm, but the sensation has a nice, sensual feel - especially after the last tickling assault.
You ensure you tickle every inch of my feet - top and bottom - alternating each implement on each foot.
You then start to gradually tickle up my legs, again alternating tools so I can never predict what I will feel and where.
My knees are surprisingly ticklish. When you reach my thighs, I really start to flinch.
The feather and brush start to zero in on the insides of my thighs, still alternating. My whimpers are turning into sighs and my sequels have morphed into moans.
You tease up and up and up until you are tickling the creases between my thighs and my crotch. I am lifting my hips, encouraging you. I am positively drenched.
“You know, there is ONE more place I haven't tickled yet,” you say.
You casually dance the feather and paint brush around my outer labia.
“Can you guess where that is?”
I moan. I writhe. I arch.
“Please”, I beg. “Just….. please….. don't stop……touch me…..touch me THERE.”
“Oh, you know where!” I scream. My frustration is growing.
“Now that type of behaviour won't get you anywhere.”
You withdraw the brush and feather. I swear and surge against the restraints. You wait patiently for me to stop.
You then do something unexpected. You start loosening the restraints. But you do not untie me.
“What the hell is he doing now?” I think to myself.
I follow your orders. I feel you rearrange the pillows behind me.
“Now, sit back against the pillows but stay upright. That's it. And put your arms back up. Good. Are you comfortable?”
I feel the restraints holding my arms over my head tighten again, though this time they feel like they are fixed over the top of the bed head.
I then feel the restraints on my ankles gently start to pull them apart. Then, with some brute force, they are pulled WIDE apart.
I have never felt so vulnerable in all my life. I am now in a reclined seated position but fully restrained. And every millimetre of my oversensitive pussy is exposed.
“You sadistic bastard,” I whisper.
The blindfold drops from my eyes. It takes me a moment to adjust to the brightness. I forgot that it was still daylight. The orange tinge behind the curtains suggests that the sun is now starting to set. We have been going at it for hours.
You lean in and engage me in a long, deep, passionate kiss. As you withdraw, you look me in the eyes.
“I want you to see this.”
I watch helplessly as you pick up the feather.
“You….you can't do that,” I say meekly.
“But I can,” you say, trailing the feather down my torso and over one nipple.
I watch open mouthed as the feather slowly glides lower and lower. You pause to tickle my belly button and continue your pathway down.
When you finally reach my lower abdomen I throw my head back and close my eyes.
You withdraw the feather. Your fingers start tickling my now oversensitive ribs.
“Your eyes must stay open,” you say. “You must watch every second or I'll stop and tickle you. I can do this ALL night if required.”
“Ok, ok, ok, ok. They're open!” I scream.
You stop tickling my ribs and slowly pick up the feather.
“My A card,” you laugh as you dance it in front of my eyes.
I say nothing. What is there to say?
You run the feather slowly up and down the inside of my thighs, skipping over my pussy in between. I bite my tongue and hold my breath.
You then start circling the feather around my glistening outer lips. I am overcome with a combination of lust and embarrassment. I want to look away so badly. But I don't, remembering your very firm instructions.
You zone the feather in on my inner lips and flick it up and down and around. My hips start to rotate involuntarily. You squirt pre-cum, imagining how it would feel for your rock hard dick to be inside me right now.
But you must stay the course. You must ignore all my moaning, begging and gyrating.
My eyes watch you position the feather close to my clit.
“Are you ticklish here? I bet you are….”
I'm literally on the edge. All that's needed is just a few flicks……
You proceed to tickle my thighs aggressively. I become hysterical.
You repeat this game countless times. Each time you make me watch while you hold the feather just close enough that I can ALMOST feel it touching my most secret and sensitive place. You dance the feather around, just millimetres away from my clit.
Then you stop and tickle me on my feet, ribs, thighs, underarms - anywhere you know I'm super ticklish.
This cruel game holds me in an insane pre-orgasmic plateau for a long, long time.
I lose any remaining semblance of self respect. I am now a slave to you, desperate for you to bring to the surface the deep, burning orgasm I can feel simmering inside myself.
Eventually - FINALLY after seemingly endless teasing - the feather makes contact with the very tip of my clit. A spasm ricochets across my body.
You stop and wait for me to calm down before you proceed. The feather flicks across the top of my clitoral hood.
My body tenses. More spasms. More moans.
“You looked away,” you say accusingly.
You tickle my feet aggressively to bring me back down to earth - yet again.
I want to slap you hard across your face.
I also want this to go on forever.
You use the feather to tickle my clit again - this time up and down.
You look into my eyes. They are dazed and glazed over. I am so very close….
My body has become rigid. My legs are shaking.
You drop the feather and lie down between my legs. You open me up like a precious flower. I shudder with anticipation.
I feel your tongue lightly dab the tip of my clit. You hear me breathe in sharply.
You stop and take in the sight of me at my most vulnerable and aroused. I am no longer concerned with who you are, where I am or how I look. I am a moaning, panting, shuddering, messy bundle of hormones.
You feel a surge of satisfaction. You have not fulfilled my secret fantasy - you have obliterated it. Completely knocked it out of the park. My brain is now rewired - permanently.
You lower your head, ready to go in for the kill.
“Tell me,” you say softly. “Does this tickle?”
You watch me watch you as your tongue expertly flutters under my clit hood. It hits me right THERE - my absolute pleasure core.
This time, you don't stop.
I go completely still for a good 30 seconds. My mouth is wide open in a silent scream. I am in deep shock and have momentarily left my body.
I then release a guttural screech and my entire body trembles. My pussy visibly convulses over and over again. The deepest, most intense orgasm I have ever experienced.
Your tongue keeps going. As the orgasm dissipates, I start to go hysterical.
It's too much. But you don't stop.
I am begging you. I don't know what I'm feeling anymore. All I know is that the post orgasmic stimulation from your tongue is tickling me with more intensity than I have ever experienced.
I can't take it anymore, and neither can you. You stop, sit up and push me back further onto the pillows.
You slide yourself inside me with ease.
We both gasp at the new sensation gripping us. You move up and down, slowly, deliberately. You make me feel every inch of you. And you feel every inch of me. Despite my dripping wet pussy, I am gripping you tightly.
You savour every moment, knowing it won't take long for you to burst.
You reach down and prod my underarms. I am powerless to stop you.
I thrash and gyrate. The sensation on your dick almost brings you to an immediate climax. You stop.
“Not yet,” you think to yourself.
You start again - slowly, sensually stroking. My hips lift up to meet you in perfect rhythm.
This time you tickle my mid ribs. I throw my head back and scream. You pick up the pace. My pussy grips you hard. You feel my spasms.
You cannot possibly withstand anymore. You are ready to explode.
You stop and rip my ankle restraints off, leaving my arms pinned to the head board.
I wrap my legs around you tightly, locking you deep within me. I rock my hips back and forth.
You are on the edge of losing it. But your sadistic streak won't let up. You tickle my upper body mercilessly.
I feel the burning rising from my pleasure centre and can't believe it's happening again.
I arch my back, giving myself to you and your dominance. And the reward for both of us is unimaginable pleasure.
For you, months of teasing and fantasising have culminated in this moment. You go completely stiff and still, almost losing consciousness. I feel what you feel.
We erupt in a simultaneous orgasm.
I feel your hotness spurting inside me. We are both shaking, moaning, gyrating.
The comedown is gradual. We both lie there, spent and speechless.
Eventually, you sit up and untie my arms. They feel dead, like someone else's arms. I can barely move from utter shock and exhaustion.
You sit there with your head in your hands. You are very lightheaded after such an intense blood rush and need a moment to revitalise.
We remain in contemplative silence for a long time. There is lots to think about. Yet nothing to say.
The sun had now set. I look at the clock. We have been at it for almost five hours. I tap your shoulder and gesture towards the clock.
“I got too excited,” you say apologetically. “Tomorrow will be longer, I promise.”
I don't know whether you are joking or not. I tremble at the thought.
We shower and dress, still not saying much. We have both worked up an appetite and are ravenous for dinner.
As we leave I catch a quick glimpse into your open suitcase. I see a smorgasbord of toys: silk rope, handcuffs, bondage tape, a back scratcher, nipple stimulators, cock rings….
It's going to be a long, torturous weekend.
