Fetish tickling stories
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As delicious as she was, Houlihan didn’t want to actually touch her with his fingers or his body. Houlihan took his time moving the feather back and forth up those long, slender legs, once alternating back and forth between the tip and the pointy quill. She liked having her breasts touched, and she liked doing the private dances, and of course, the money was great … but those boys couldn’t get her to Georgetown. Still excited, she ran upstairs to her huge, pink and white bedroom, still looking very girlish, and got out a vibrator that made the little portable one she took with her on her special “dates” look like a pencil.
After “resting,” I took my condom off, laid in the Vitruvian Man position, and let Pam tickle me again to satisfy her sadism, eventually busting in her mouth. A month later, while drunk at Woody’s again, I ran into Pam. We said a few words and introduced each other to our friends, and then she took off. After turning in another 0-fer, I texted Pam. She’d apparently taken a liking to my buddy Punchline and stealthily offered us a threesome at her place. Punchline took off, and when I told her it was just me coming over, she said, “Oh, OK.” I went over to her place, let her tickle me, and then she sucked me off.
I mean, I don’t think Bryant would allow us to show up in bikinis and tell customers if they are willing to pay, they can tickle us anywhere they want.” And sometimes, he’d get to the head of the line, and have to wait anyway, as Kayla was being tickled by another customer, but he wasn’t going to go with anyone else. Then, after a short break, he would just use his fingers, working his way up slowly, stroking the soles of her feet, then in between her toes, then sliding them up, up her firm calves, tracing long figure eights, then tickling her thighs, easing up, then back, circling her knees, then up a little bit higher, then circling her knees, then up higher, tracing circles on her stomach.
Sometimes they touch me the way I want them to, but other times … it’s like they’re not listening.” He’d had to make his way down a sidewalk on a street lined with frat houses, and crawl a block, while he crawled through each of his brother’s legs, and got a smacking from each and every one of them. Houlihan slid out the bottom drawer and took out a smaller version of the paddle he’d been nailed with by the frat guys and laid it on the desk. So she got the car for her sixteenth birthday, even though he was the oldest; he’d had to walk to his part time job in high school until he had saved up for a battered sub-compact.
She grabbed him, running her fingers through his short hair, then pushing him back so she could look at his face, into his eyes, feeling that no matter what had happened in her life with men, despite the rude treatment and the humiliation, it had all led up to this moment, with the man she'd craved for months. It was always slowly; of the few times he watched tickling videos, he couldn't get excited by the men who looked like they were jabbing their fingers into the ribcages and armpits of their victims. Jane happened to be the perfect height for what he wanted to try next: tickling her feet with one hand, and gently working his way up her thighs to the flesh in between her legs.
Usually she looked forward to these dance parties, as a form of making money and expressing herself, but she’d never done a party this big. She’d brought her CDs, but sometimes the guys had music they wanted her to dance to. Monica had seen the video for the song, but hadn’t liked Britney’s outfit. For this particular routine, Monica wore a little black velvet dress, stiletto heels, and what looked like diamond jewelry. The man took a picture of the “George” plate with his cell phone, then pulled into the driveway of the house across the street, backed down, and drove off. Blake promised to tip off Houlihan if he heard anything about Monica getting loose again. “Excuse me?” Monica didn’t like where this was going.
She was dressed head to toe in black: black push up bra (and Janet was surprised at how big her breasts looked) black lace briefs that thankfully covered her stomach, black stockings, black jeans, and a black halter top. Janet was only really attracted to dark haired, dark eyed, Caucasian men, and Xavier had a intense, almost dangerous look. The paddle and feathers were out on the bed, and Xavier picked up the paddle and gently smacked Janet on her behind. “A few minutes of this, Janet, and then we'll bring out the feathers,” Xavier said. Janet stroked her fingers over Xavier's thighs, then gently stroked his testicles, and moved up to his penis, tracing circles around the head. Shortly thereafter, Xavier came, and Janet thought his climax felt like a heartbeat in the center of her.
Monica looked behind her. Nick had asked her about the gun during their phone call, and she’d said yes, but she never thought he’d have to bring it out. Monica spent the rest of Christmas vacation brooding a bit. Blake had called him over Christmas break in a shaky voice, telling him he wasn’t going to keep an eye on Monica anymore. He explained how Monica wanted his silence, but that he couldn’t guarantee what any of the other 29 boys would say. He admitted he was looking for an exchange, either money or sex, but … well, Monica had left with her bodyguard. Houlihan thought something was up, but didn’t press it. I swear!” Now, Monica really wasn’t looking good.
He managed to get some guys to pony up for one of Monica’s stripping parties. So Blake was a little surprised that Monica wasn’t interested in doing the party. “I’ve got thirty guys together—Tim Goldsworthy’s parents are taking him to Myrtle Beach for a few days, and he made an extra key to his house. A few of the guys were going to get beer. Nick DelVecchio wasn’t happy that she hadn’t done any parties this fall. If word got back to him that she turned down a 3,000 party … And what would Houlihan say? I don’t know who’s all going to be there.” As she hung up, Monica felt a sense of foreboding.
Women like Monica would have an easy time of it in life; from wealthy, loving parents to a wealthy, loving husband. Monica was a little surprised when she got the note in Spanish class summoning her to Houlihan’s office after school, if she didn’t have any other obligations. Monica couldn’t imagine Brenda in a nice house twenty-two years from now; she seemed like the type of girl to deny herself the finer things in life, just because she could. Monica could tell Brenda was the kind of girl who thought behaving would earn her brownie points. I figured, ‘hey, why not?’ I know what guys like to look at, and it’s pretty obvious I’ve got it.
As time for college acceptance letters came due, she worried a bit. She’d applied to Georgetown, of course, and the University of Notre Dame (which her parents were a little more pleased about, since it was in-state) as well as Brown University. She had about six places she was waiting on, but her heart was in Georgetown already, and she didn’t know if she’d get there. She’d given it some thought, and she really didn’t want to be with him anymore. They came from different backgrounds, and she normally stayed away from guys like him, but if nothing else, she realized that good people and brilliance come from places you’d least expect it.
Yes, the thrill of punishing her by giving her the kinky attention the boys didn’t want to give was exciting enough, but Monica was unaware that Houlihan would spread the word that she was to be on her best behavior. But Houlihan wanted her to know that if she wanted to tell Monica how she felt about her, she should do just that—and it would be okay. Monday rolled around, and Houlihan decided he’d speak to Brenda that day, if he could. He’d known a few girls like Brenda, unattractive but they slept with boys anyway, and it didn’t help their popularity. School went on that fall, like usual, except students noticed a quieter Monica O’Toole.
My eyes devoured the little angel as she slowly fell backward into a supine position on the couch, arms flung overhead in an attitude of complete surrender, and her feet swung up from the floor and over into my lap. Without a word, I grabbed the waistband of her shorts and quickly pulled them off, and she immediately swung her right leg up over my head and behind my back, so that I found myself sitting between her knees. Rachel's body shuddered and writhed as she screamed out an invocation, begging me for more, and her hands intermittently clawed at the sofa cushions and pressed against the back of my head.
I wriggle desperately beneath Nick, begging with my body to be tortured in the right places in the right way, dread and desire flushing through my body in waves. "You've never been tied up and tickled before?" Nick stops stroking my arms and lowers himself to place kisses over my forehead and cheeks. Nick moves to my breasts, tickling the skin with his fingertips and flicking my nipples with his tongue. "But if you laugh, well," he pauses and flicks his tongue over the small of my back, "then I will take my sweet time tickling your naughty cunt," Nick's voice is dangerously soft and even, "I'll take you to the edge...
She slipped on the brief, crotchless panties that framed her neatly trimmed blond bush and gave his strong, warm hands easy access to her pussy at any time, the thigh high black hose that accentuated the toned shapeliness of her legs and thighs, and the shelf bra that presented her beautiful breasts and nipples as an inviting delicacy. Mark felt the tightness in his cock that comes only when Cindy has his motor racing, and he got off the bed and held her close while they kissed as only familiar, passionate lovers can. He kissed Cindy and said "Now, my sweet, I shall pleasure you." He pulled a set of restraints from the "fun kit" he brought, and her eyes lit-up as brightly as the Christmas bulbs outside their room.
Every day in high school I'd walk into the living room when I got home and just see her hair there, draped over the couch, longing to at least run my fingers through it but never knowing how to even ask. I love having my hair long, but while taking care of you I didn't always have a lot of time, so I kept it to as manageable of a length as I could while still making sure you got to school every day, got fed, and went to bed on time. Plus, like I said your hair is amazing and I would love to feel it draped and dragged over my naked chest." I bit my lip back, worried I might have gotten carried away, but my mother beamed up at me, clearly happy with my response.
I teased him, dangling the keys at arms length, playfully switching hands. He grabbed my arm and moved behind me to try and pry them from my hand, but I held them close to my stomach, wiggling, trying to escape his tight embrace. Feeling his penis rubbing my rear had me weakening a bit, but I held tight to the keys. Then moved that hand up to my other breast, lowered the bra and massaged my other breast like bread dough he couldn't wait to let rise and eat. His hands moved with conviction, down to unbutton my jeans, pulling them past my hips and pushing them to my ankles. When his hand moves over to my hip I know my treat is coming.
Like most boys at that age, my creative mind entertained fantasies that obviously involved sex, but only after holding the girl down, and wiggling my fingers all over her body until she finally gave into what I wanted. So I waited almost a month, checking her schedule each week until she was finally assigned a late shift -- Saturday, 3:00 to 11:30, one half hour after the store closed. As a final touch, I fastened a leather strap just below her elbows, so she couldn't even bring her head forward to look down and see for herself just how exposed and vulnerable she was.
Steve stretched my right arm right above my head, anchoring it with his strong left hand, and started to lightly pinch my right waist with his fingers as he whispered to my ear: Beware of the spider dear, he is crawling all over your bare skin..., Well, darl, are we ticklish today? But Steve was already carried away, I felt his heavy breathing, he pulled a blanket over us, and moved his hand in small circular motion, barely touching my right armpit. Steve continued the chin massage over my ribs, and started groping my soft full tit under the blanket, pinching my sensitive nipple as I scream at him: Ohhh, you beast, stop thaaaat!!
Again I raise the cord and bring it down on your other breast and again you feel the oddness of the upraised whip hand followed by a gentle wet touch. Each time I whip the pasta down on you, you feel the flinch reflex but suppress it, knowing that if you squirm too much, you will break the pasta binding you and the mood. The "blows" rain down on your breasts, your pussy, your ass, and your belly, and the visual sensation of being thoroughly whipped combines with the physical sensation of being gently licked all over, and with almost a total absence of sound. At this point, the candle in your ass has burned itself out, and you almost relax, realizing that the hot wax sensation will be removed.
Diane and I practiced this in college to several boys there," Kim informed Jake and Peter. Jake's cock was rubbing against Diane's yoga pants and Peter's was rubbing against Kim's bare legs. "Kim, your son has an erection!" Diane said, grabbing Jake's cock a waving it in her hand. "Now let's see how you boy's like being tickled," Kim said with an intensity that scared both Peter and Jake. "So you like seeing your mother naked huh," Kim asked, stroking Jake's cock. "One more thing," Kim said, addressing Peter and Jake, "If you boy's can get a job a real job, not a fast food thing or part time hobby, but a real job, we'll let you fuck us in the ass."
THe warm sensation caused her to tingle a bit, and then gasp as he place one large hand on her chest, near her neck, and began to smooth the oil onto her, working it around her body. She giggled and tittered, her arrousal growing as he played her helpless body, fngers tickling her nipples and breasts as well as her belly, dancing lower and lower until he was tickling her extremely sensitive sex-flesh. "I got you to submit once, now I'm going to pin you..." Reba felt him pulling his boxers down and freeing his rampant erection, which he wasted no time pressing the tip of against her slippery opening.
My toes slowly moved forward, curling, my soles wrinkling up in front of the watching crowd. Feel free to pay him back if he teases too much - mock him about his predicament, his ticklishness, the size of his feet, their tenderness....whatever you think will get a rise out of him!" I began to wave my feet around a bit in addition to the toe-wiggling, determined to tease even more after that little comment. "Five minutes with our new subject's feet, right now!" I felt my soles twitch in anticipation. My soles tingled as I got ready to stand up, my feet finally touching the floor - I hadn't looked at it before, but it was some of the softest carpet I'd ever felt.
She struggled a little against every thing, but I think she knew what she was in for. I held fast, and when she began to let go and move her hips up and down, I removed the vibrating devil from her pink flesh. I toyed with it slowly, enjoying the feeling of the hot little nub under my finger. She was nearly screaming at the tickling assault, when suddenly I switched to the vibrator and placed it directly on her slick little clit. I ran my fingers softly up and down her ribs, tickling a little as I went, but at the same time, I ran up and down her moist slit with the vibrator.