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The Neighbour (M/self, f/m) Part 3

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suedenym
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The Neighbour (M/self, f/m) Part 3

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Gender tagging removes any sense of surprise in the story, but to comply with bored rules here goes. this is of course entirely fictional.

Meeting my ne neighbour


I'm not going to go into the whole sordid history of my family, or explain why at the age of 12 going on 13 I suddenly found myself moving in with my aunt, who was herself only 24. Probably a young successful professional does not want to be hampered by having her nephew suddenly moving in but Aunt Angela took it in her stride. She had always been fun and having a well paid professional job she already had her own house on an estate with other young families.

Physical descriptions. I'm typical 12 yr old boy with short brown hair. I usually wear jeans and t-shirt or shorts, summer it's usually shorts. I read a lot well only a couple of hours of children's programmes per day when this story happened, and that includes pre-school and under 10s TV. I have a couple of little quirks too. I like feet. I always go round the house barefoot, in summer normally sit in the garden and sometimes walk down the street barefoot too. I love the beach and I love swimming because I get to see all the women and girls barefoot too. I love summer because girls wear sandals, no socks, short skirts and often kick their shoes off. I've also been known to watch Children's TV programmes just to see if the lady presenters take their shoes off. I also like tying up. Watching TV programmes or even cartoons where the heroine is tied up (Scooby Doo!) and reading stories where someone gets tied up is a favourite. I also tie myself up. Well with Aunt Angela out working I have time alone so I entertain myself somehow. I had some tape, few ends of rope, old leather belts. I used to like to tie my legs at multiple levels: ankles, knees, calves, thighs. I'd tape my mouth shut, or tie a scarf in my mouth and over my eyes. The problem was hands. I could not tie my hands behind my back. I'd try slip knots or twisting rope round but try as I might I could always escape. Well that's good so I didn't get caught and was always safe but not really what I wanted to happen.

I dreamed of being tied up, usually by an older woman. I also used to dream of the younger female teachers and several TV personalities being tied up. I would generally think of me tying up some TV girl who would escape and tie me , and keep me tied up. Of course we'd both be barefoot. She'd also tickle me. And my real dream was to be tied up by one of these women and then another one would come in and tie her up. Then we'd both be tickled on our bare feet. Also when I was tied up I used to think of my captor pressing her bare feet, occasionally feet in stockings / tights, over my face.

OK Aunt angela. She was slim, wavy red hair past her shoulders, usually held in a pony tail. At work she'd wear smart skirt, blouse jacket and tights (tan white or black) and at home she'd take her shoes off as soon as she got in and walk round in her nylon feet, often she'd take her tights off too. At weekends she'd usually wear t-shirt and jeans, leggings or jogging bottoms. Shorts or short skirts sometimes, and going out summer dresses with open toed heels. Aunt Angela knew about my thing for feet. She'd often give my bare feet a quick tickle when we sat on the Sofa in the evenings. She'd sometimes put her feet on my knees or point her soles at me and giggle as she saw me getting uncomfortable.

Anyway. I moved in with Aunt Angela at the start of the summer holidays in July after my first year in secondary school. This meant no friends locally and a new school in September. So it was a Tuesday morning in summer, the typical British summer. It was raining when Aunt Angela went to work. I watched kids' TV wearing blue shorts, red t-shirt whilst my bare legs and feet were tied with belts at ankles and knees, a clean white sock in my mouth with three strips of tape over it. My hands behind my back with a few turns of rope loosely round my wrists but twisted so the felt tighter. I could easily free myself by twisting my hands round the other way but I felt tied up. I was really hoping that one of the snooping kids on the detective show would get tied up but I was disappointed. In later morning , around 11am, rain stopped and sun came out. I untied myself, unlocked the back door and walked out with a trashy fantasy swords and sorcery book. The grass was wet under my bare feet as I walked to the plastic chairs and sat down. I began to read and after turning the pages a few times I saw some movement out of the corner of my eye. The garden was not large and backed onto a side wall of another house. To the right side, as you faced the road, was the side of the house next door's tall fence, but a low hedge and open fence separated the garden from the house on the left. I could see someone in the garden.

She was a girl about my age. She had dark brown curly hair past her shoulders and about half way down her back. She was wearing a white t-shirt, short black skirt and bare feet drinking a glass of milk. “Hi” I said. Not the best chat up line ever but it worked.
“Mum said Angela had her nephew move in with her. Is that you?”

“Yes. I'm Ian.”

“I'm Amy.”

Embarrassing silence followed. I looked down at her bare feet, the nails painted alternately blue and pink. Then I noticed something on her ankle. Not an anklet or tattoo (she was only around 12 after all) watch or a bracelet. I looked again and was sure. It was a mark that could have only been made one way. I knew because I'd had to hide many myself. It was definitely a mark made by a rope tied tightly round her ankle. I could not see the outside of her other ankle to be sure. I looked up at her hands and there it was again. Her left wrist had the same impression on it. I blurted out: “ Have you been tied up?” I smiled.

“No. Go away. You're just like the other horrible children. Go away.” she turned to run back into her house. I do not know what possessed me but I vaulted over the fence and ran after her. She slammed the door shut but I lent through an open window.

“It's OK. I tie myself up too.” I couldn't believe I'd said that. Shouted it more like.

She came to the window. Tears on her face an she said, timidly “What did you say?”

“I said “I tie myself up too.” ”

She opened the door. “Come on in” she said.

I went into the kitchen. She sat at the table and I followed her example.

“Have you ever tied anyone else up?” she asked.

“No.”

We talked for the next 20 minutes or so about how we tied ourselves up. When I'd been alone at home I'd tied myself up few times in my bedroom and made my little collection, developed some techniques. Moving in with my Aunt meant I was being left alone more. Amy had a year of her mum working part time, leaving her alone after school some days and one or two Saturdays each month. She had over a year of practice of uninterrupted tying up. We both tied ourselves up with ropes, tapes, belts and gagged ourselves. We both had problems tying our hands. Using our teeth we could tie and untie our hands firmly in-front of us but really wanted our hands tied behind us.

Amy told me she often took he long socks off after school, tied one round her ankles, the other between her teeth and used a hair scrunchie to hold, not tie, her hands behind her back. I told her about my twisting ropes. She then explained she'd managed to perfect a sort of slip knot. She could put her hands behind her back and pull the loose ends to tighten the coils round her wrists. When she wanted to free herself she pulled couple of loops to undo he knot. It sounded better than my idea but like me she wasn't happy because she could untie herself when she wanted. She was not really helpless.

I told her about one time I'd used a slip knot round my wrists tied to my ankles. If I straightened my legs it was tightened and to free myself I had to bend my knees and pick at the knot. She wanted to see this so I went back to my house and got my ropes and stuff. I locked the door this time before I came back to Amy's house.

She had moved into the lounge where there were some belts and ropes of her own. I sat on the floor, reaching forward to my ankles as I wrapped rope 5 or 6 times round them then tied a second rope cinching them together and leaving a long end. I tied a slip knot in that loose end, trying to make it short, then took a third rope to wrap a few times round my wrists before knotting, not loosely, but with enough slack to slip my hands in and out without much difficulty. Amy watched me carefully all this time.

Finally I turned onto my stomach, reached behind my back and put my left hand through the loose coils. I threaded the coils through the loop of the slip knot before putting my right hand through the coils and then pushed my legs out. My feet moved about 6 inches and the loop tightened between my wrists tightening the coils. This was the most securely I usually managed to tie myself. Not entirely helpless but I'd have to struggle to loosen the knot. And remember I was lying, tied up on the floor of my neighbour's house in-front of a girl I'd met about half an hour ago.

Amy inspected my bonds carefully. “So this slip knot pulls the ropes tight and stops you pulling your hands out?”

“Yes. And with my hands tied to my feet I can't stand and hop around.” At this point I thought of adding that I usually had scissors on the floor so I could cut myself out if needed.

“So you're all helpless?”

“Well no because I can bend my knees like this and reach the knot to loosen it.” I bet my knees to demonstrate but just then I felt something on the sole of my right foot which made my kick my leg out as far as they'd go (about 6 inches) and try to get away. But it followed me.

“No no noooooo” I called out as Amy tickled my bare feet. I rolled from side to side trying to get away from the ticking finger but could not. I rolled onto my side which was a huge mistake as amy could then trap my legs with her weight and tickle me as much as she wanted.

“You seem helpless to me.” she quipped. “I think I need to gag you though so the neighbours don't come looking to see what's making the noise.” She quickly tripped out of the room and I heard her on the stairs. I was breathless from the tickling. I am very ticklish and it has been used against me a few times but this was the first time I'd been tickled when tied up. And it added a whole new dimension.

I hated the feeling of being tickled. It was OK for about a second. And usually I twitched and puled away or maybe had someone sit on me (including my mum and Aunt Angela). Even so being tickled whilst tied up was a new experience. And it really made me feel more helpless, which though I hated the feeling of being tickled, I loved the feeling of being helpless. Its a funny thing and probably why I dreamed of being tickled when tied up. I was helpless and I loved being helpless and not pulling away was being helpless. Does that make sense?

So I struggled to free myself but Amy was quickly back with a couple of long grey socks. “Don't worry. Clean!” she said sniffing the foot of one. Before I cold say anything she'd tied one of them round my head between my teeth and was tying the other over my mouth.

“Now let's hear you call for help.” Amy began to rake her fingers up and down my bare soles and run her hands up to backs of my knees. She even lifted my t-shirt and ran her fingers round, and into my bely button. I rolled and kicked and moaned but my own rope tying and her sock gag was enough to render me helpless. The tickling seemed to last hours but was really less than five minutes before Amy left me almost crying, panting for breath and weak on my side. She propped herself against the sofa and crossed her ankles , her legs straight out giving me an excellent view of her wrinkled, slightly dusty soles, and making me wonder, when I got free, if I'd get to tickle her bare feet.

She grinned at me and prodded me in the tummy with her toes a few times before leaping back for an unstoppable attack on my bare feet again. Despite my muffled screams and thrashing around.......I was really enjoying this.

A few more minutes of torture and she eventually stopped and took my gag out. “ Are you OK?” she asked.

“Fine time to ask!”

“Hey I can always put the gag back and tickle you some more!”

“I'm fine.”

“Good. Can you untie yourself. It's lunch time. I'll make a couple of sandwiches then this afternoon you can tie me up.
Last edited by suedenym 7 months ago, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by Canuck100 »

I love realistic stories that could, somehow, have happened in real life. And yours falls into that category. Great story! Really enjoyed reading it!
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Post by KissyMissy »

"bored" rules made me laugh.
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Post by Killua »

It's a great story. It sounds really realistic especially the way it's written sounds more like a real person telling what happened to him than a fictional story. Great job.
Last edited by Killua 3 years ago, edited 1 time in total.
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Post by TightsBound »

Great so far! Well written and realistic. And as a lover of women’s feet I can’t help but enjoy it. Looking forward to more!
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Post by slackywacky »

That was a very nice read. Great story, believable and easy to read. Thank you.
Don't stop writing.
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Post by JulieG »

Excellent story. Readable, believable, not focussed on bondage, personalities of the charachters. And of course, girl tickling helpless boy's feet.
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Post by BoudBoy22 »

I really need to know what happens later. I love this story.
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Post by harveygasson »

Really enjoying the story!
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Post by Speedo »

This story has a lot of potential. I'm pleased for a next part I’m excited how the story continues.
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Post by Barefoot99 »

awesome story
Barefoot and cuffed. That's the only way to go.
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Post by DTbound »

Cute story!
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Post by Highpointer642 »

Nice!
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Post by Gag001 »

Cool
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Post by suedenym »

After more than a year, I return to the tale of Ian and Amy.


Amy was a lot better at lunches than I was, making something like a club sandwich with chicken, salad, mayonnaise and a side order of crisps, all washed down with two colas. I offered to wash up as she went to the bathroom and we both met in the lounge again, sitting cross legged on the floor surrounded by a large pile of ropes, scarves, socks (we were both barefoot remember) tape, string and elastic strips.

“OK.” I said, unoriginally. “Hands behind your back.” Amy had lots of 1.5cm rope, slightly thicker than clothes line, of which I took several lengths. She sat with hands behind her and I carefully tied her wrists together, wrapping rope 5 or 6 times round before cinching it tight with a couple of loops and made sure I placed the knot above her wrists away from fingers.

“Make it tight. I don’t want to escape.” She said. With that prompt I then began to wrap rope round her elbows. I gave a little tug but did not even try to get them to touch. “Oooh. I’ve never tried that before!” Amy said.

“Not really possible on yourself.” I’d seen the elbows tied in a couple of pictures or films. I knew I couldn’t touch my elbows so realised it might be uncomfortable if I pulled too right, but Amy seemed to be happy with it.

I next started to wrap ropes round her chest (she was about 12 so had the start of a chest so I made sure NOT to touch). I tied the ropes off to her elbow ties, pulling tighter this time. I then did the same round her waist, tying her hands firmly into the small of her back. “Upper body secure.” I said and moved to her legs. I started with her ankles, she sat with her legs out straight, heels on the floor and soles pointing towards me, 5 loops and 2 cinches. Next were here legs below her knees, then above. Her skirt came to just about mid thighs, a little higher now she was sat with her feet flat on the floor, hips and knees bent.I tied a final set of ropes ( 5 and 2 ) just at the hem of her skirt. “All secure?” I asked. She stuck her feet out straight again and wriggled her upper body. “I’d better check.” I said and begin to tickle the soles of her bare feet.

“No. Noooooo. Ahhhh. Ahahahhahhaa. Noooooooo.”

“You make too much noise.l

“You’d better do something about it then.”

I took some scarves off the floor, and one white sock. “Open wide.” Amy complied and I pushed the sock into her mouth. I then tied a scarf between her teeth, knitting behind her head and making her cheeks bulge. I tickled her bare feet again.

“Mmmnngg. Mmpphhh. Nggmmpphh.”

“Seems to work! One more thing.” I took a second scarf and , folding it two or three times into a band, tied it over her eyes as a blindfold. Then I went back to tickling her feet.

She rolled and screamed and panted, all the shrieks beautifully muffled. There then followed about ten minutes of tickling feet, backs of knees, (her top had pulled out of her skirt) belly button and sides. I stopped and left her panting through the gag, then I had an idea.

“Are you OK?” I asked.

“Mmmmmm.” Amy nodded. I lifted her up , helping her to her feet, and then removed her blindfold. I turned her round as she shuffled, then started to half pull her by the chest ropes. She shuffled, then began to hop. I got her to hop out into the garden and out to where she’d been sitting earlier. There was a wooden bench seat and two wooden recliners, at the moment no cushions, just wood slats. I left her sitting on the bench and went back inside. Now I think I said earlier, the way these houses were built, the back gardens were only visible from the garden and house next door. I knew we were not overlooked.

I returned with some more rope and a couple of cushions. I put the cushions onto one of the recliners and helped Amy to lie back on it and then lifted her feet up. I then tied her ankles, knees and her tummy to the wooden slats, then re-tired her blindfold. You can guess what was coming next as I began to tickle her feet and tummy once again.

After another 10 minutes of her wriggling and cursing through her gag I stopped and picked up my book again. I positioned the bench and lounger in such a way that I had a good view of the soles of her feet, then I put my bare feet up next to hers. I then began to read again, every now and then scraping one of her feet with my toes to get a reaction. I kept her tied like this for nearly an hour before eventually untying her. She looked at me with a mixture of a smile, frown and a glare, saying she was going to get me double for that but she had definitely enjoyed it. It had been her first time tied up really well and unable to get free. She also enjoyed the tickling, making her feel more helpless, even though it had been torture at the time. “So just watch out next time!”

We both agreed it had been a great day but we could not tie each other anymore because we’d have to make sure rope marks had faded before her mum came back. She did have quite a lot of marks!
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Post by suedenym »

Good grief. Another year in another update


It was a few days until Amy and I were both home alone together. I’d popped round her house one morning and we were sat in front of TV, me in a red t shirt, black shorts, her in pink top and cut off denim shorts, both barefoot of course. There was a Tarzan film on and two scenes really caught our attention. Tarzan was captured by the evil Jungle Queen and staked out for the lions to eat. Of course being Tarzan he got the monkeys to scamper round and undo the ropes holding him. He then managed to sneak into the Jungle Queen’s palace and find Jane, all chained up in the dungeon. So of course we wanted to replay that.

First we popped next door to my aunt’s house where I got tent pegs, rope etc and started to set up. Amy and I banged 4 sets of three tent pegs into the ground and then I lay flat in my back in the middle. I took my shirt off so like Tarzan I was bare chested, barefooted and wearing just short shorts.

Amy began to tie the rope around my wrists and ankles, looping it around the tent pegs so I was stretched out tight. The rope was rough and bit into my skin a bit but I didn’t complain. We’d both watched Tarzan’s escape enough to know what was supposed to happen next. I felt a bit nervous but excited too. I tested the ropes and they felt pretty tight. I winked at Amy and she gave a cheeky grin before going round and tightening all four ropes again.

"Ready?" she asked.

Amy began to tickle me. She started at my sides, her slender fingers moving up and down with surprising speed, setting off a barrage of giggles that I couldn't hold back. The sensation was overwhelming, my body squirming under the restraints, the ropes tightening their grip as I struggled not to laugh too hard. The sun was warm on my bare chest and the grass prickled at my back, adding to the intensity of the moment.

Her tickling grew more focused, zeroing in on the sensitive spots under my armpits and along my sides. I writhed and kicked, trying to escape her torment, but the ropes held firm, keeping me in place for her amusement. My face grew red as I gasped for air, my eyes watering from the uncontrollable laughter. When her finger reached my belly button I gave up and made a wild shriek.

Amy stopped but not out of mercy. I watched her run into, the house then return with a bundle of scarves.

"Gag," she ordered, holding out a scarf.

“Noooooo.” I cried but it had no effect. She pushed one of the scarves into my mouth then took a second. She wrapped the soft material around my head and secured it in the back, pressing it against my mouth, the fabric smelling faintly of perfume. Then she took a third and tied it over my eyes. The world went quiet, my breaths muffled and my vision blocked by the softness of the blindfold she'd tied over my eyes. I felt a thrill of anticipation and fear, my heart thumping in my chest as she stepped back.

Her footsteps were quiet on the grass as she moved away from me. I heard a faint rustle of fabric, the sound of her moving closer and then she was back. The tip of her finger touched my ribs, light as a feather, and I jumped. Then she was off again, the giggles bubbling up inside of me like a shaken soda. The tickling was unpredictable, sometimes it was a gentle touch, other times it was a full-on assault. I squirmed and writhed under the ropes, trying to buck and kick but she was too fast, her hands darting here and there.

She had one trick up her sleeve left. My belly button had Ben enough to make me scream but when her fingers reached my feet it was pure torture.

"Mmph!" I yelled, my voice muffled by the gag. My feet were curling and uncurling, trying to escape from her relentless tickling. The ropes around my ankles had been tightened so much that they were cutting into my skin, but the pain was a distant concern compared to the all-encompassing itchiness. My toes flexed and my legs twitched as I desperately tried to kick her away.

Amy's giggles grew louder, echoing in my ears as she took delight in my torment. The softness of the scarf against my face was the only comfort in the sea of sensations that overwhelmed me. I could feel the heat of the sun on my skin, the ropes biting into my wrists, the roughness of the grass under my back, and the unbearable tickling that had my whole body in spasms.

“Wow. I wish I’d found out how ticklish your feet were earlier.” She teased. “I could sit and do this all day.” And she could have. She had tied her knots too well; I had hammered the legs in too well. I was tied up and could not escape.

The tickling continued, my muffled cries growing more desperate. My body was a mass of sensation, the ropes digging deeper with each kick and twist, the sun hot on my bare skin. But the worst was the anticipation, the brief moments of respite where I didn’t know if she’d go for my sides or my feet again. It was like a game of musical chairs played on a bed of nails.

Eventually, Amy decided she’d had her fill of my squirms and squeals. She stepped away, and I felt a slight coolness as the breeze kissed my overheated skin. I heard the sound of a chair being dragged across the grass. I heard her sit down next to me, and I heard her bare legs swinging idly. I felt her toes touch my cheek, and I tried to turn my head away, but she gently pushed it back with the sole of her foot.

"Comfortable?" she asked, a smug grin in her voice.

I nodded, trying to mumble something through the gag. The tickling had stopped, but the sensation of her warm bare feet on my face was a strange mix of relief and embarrassment. She had clearly enjoyed herself, and now she was going to enjoy a quiet moment while I remained tied up and vulnerable. I could feel the heat of her legs next to my ear, the occasional breeze teasing my skin as she swung them back and forth.

Her toes pinched my nose gently, the sensation making my eyes water. I sneezed, which only caused her to giggle more. "Bless you," she said, her voice sweetly mocking. The smell of the earth clung to her feet, a testament to our earlier adventures in the garden, and a faint hint of sweat added to the mix. It wasn't unpleasant, but it was definitely noticeable. It was a reminder that this was real, that I was really tied up and at her mercy.

The tickling began again, starting at my neck, moving down to my armpits. Her feet danced over my body, the toes wiggling and poking, sending waves of laughter through me. I couldn't help but struggle against the ropes, the tension in my limbs building as the itchiness grew. Her feet felt like a dozen feathers, lightly brushing against my skin, but the pressure points she'd discovered earlier made it unbearable.

After a while, Amy said I looked hot, her voice filled with concern. She reached out and touched my forehead. "You're burning up," she said, her voice filled with genuine worry. I heard her bare feet padding away then a few minutes later she came back again.

"Now for the real fun," she giggled, and I felt a sudden drench of cold water hit my face, the droplets sliding down my neck and into the scarf that was gagging me.

The water was a shock to my system, the sudden coldness making me gasp and sneeze. The gag in my mouth made it difficult to breathe and I felt a moment of panic as the water splashed into my nose and mouth. But Amy quickly moved to watering my chest and tummy with the watering can.

The coolness of the water was surprisingly refreshing on my overheated skin, the droplets running down my chest and soaking my shorts. The fabric clung to me, adding a new dimension to the sensation of being tied up. The ropes had tightened even more, digging into my skin, and the coldness made the pressure points even more sensitive.

"Alright, Tarzan," Amy giggled, her voice a little breathless from her earlier exertion, "it's time to switch roles. I'll be Jane now, and you can rescue me." She began to untie the ropes round my hands and feet.

We didn’t have a dungeon to hand so I led her to a tree towards the back of the garden. Pulling her arms round the tree I tied her hands behind her back. She had swapped her top for a red bikini top to look more like Jane.

"Hmm," she said, testing the knot, "that’s a bit tight."

“That’s just the start” I said But she didn’t struggle as I wound more rope around her body, under her arms and over her chest, cinching it tightly. Her breathing was a little heavier, and I could see her tummy rising and falling with her chest under her top. I pulled the ropes over her tummy, feeling the softness of her belly and the firmness of her muscles. She was fit from all the sports at school and cycling.

Then I went for her legs. I wrapped the rope around her knees, pulling them closer together and making sure she couldn’t spread them apart easily. The rope was tight, but not too tight, I didn’t want to cut off her circulation. Then I went to her ankles, tying them together. With a in a neat loop around the tree I tied her shins and thighs to the trunk, then stepped back to admire my handiwork, her bare skin looking even more vulnerable and exposed now she was bound so tightly.

“Your not going to tickle me are you?” Amy’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she spoke, her feet leaving the grass as she bounced slightly in place. The anticipation was palpable in the air, and I couldn’t help but feel a mix of nervousness and thrill. I took a deep breath.

“Not yet!” I took the scarves and used them to blindfold and gag her as she had done to me.

She looked so cute and helpless tied up like that. I stepped away from her, my heart racing with excitement. I had never felt so powerful before. Then I reached forward and began to run my fingers up and down her sides.

"Aaahh!" she squealed, her body jumping at my touch. I felt a grin spread across my face as I watched her squirm and struggle against the ropes. The sound of her giggling filled the quiet of the garden, echoing off the fence and the house.

Her legs kicked out wildly, against the ropes around her legs. They creaked slightly as she tried to pull away from my fingers. I knelt down, my knees pressing into the cool grass, and began to tickle her legs. Starting at the tops of her thighs, I moved to the sensitive spots on the backs of her knees and even tried to tickle the soles of her feet , which were pressed to the ground.

The sound of her laughter grew louder and more frantic as I continued my assault. I could feel the energy of the game changing. It was no longer just fun and games; it was a battle of wills, a dance of tickles and giggles. I was enjoying it more than I had ever thought possible.

I enjoyed her squirming and gagged giggles, but I had an idea to take it up a notch. I had read about Chinese water torture, and a devilish idea began to form in my mind. I took one of the scarves and soaked it in the cold water from the watering can. Squeezing out the excess water, I tied it to a branch above Amy. The scarf hung there, the water dripping slowly onto her head.

The first few drops fell on her forehead, and she flinched, not knowing what was happening. Then the rhythmic drip-drip-drip began. The water was cold and wet, and it started to tickle her skin. She tried to move her head to escape it, but the rope and scarf kept it in place. Her giggles grew in pitch and intensity, and I couldn't help but laugh with her. It was a different kind of tickling, a slow, torturous kind that built up over time.

I pulled up the chair and sat down to watch her struggling. Her cheeks were flushed, and her face danced with excitement and fear behind the blindfold. I could see the water droplets sliding down her nose and chin, the gag in her mouth muffling her sounds of protest. She was so cute, bound and helpless before me. I loved the way she shook her head trying to dodge the water, at the same time her toes were wiggling, the odd stone, or stick making it uncomfortable standing upright, tied up, barefoot.

The coldness of the water was a stark contrast to the heat of the day, and I could see her skin pebbling with goosebumps. She was trying to keep still, but it was impossible with the ropes biting into her skin and the anticipation of the next tickle.

I realised Amy was getting uncomfortable and the constant drip of water (scarf number three now) was making her a bit chilly. Still I knew I had to finish in style.

Despite her gag Amy gave a scream, almost as loud as when she tickled my belly button. I stood in front of her, unseen because of her blindfold, holding the garden hose, pointed straight at her chest and tummy with a wide spray of cold water.

The sudden burst of cold was like an electric shock to her body. She jolted and bucked against the ropes, her muffled squeals and laughs turning into cries of surprise. I moved the hose around her body, letting the water run down her arms, her legs, and her bare feet. The grass around her was turning into mud as the water soaked into it, and her bikini top was sticking to her. I spent a couple of minutes hosing her down until her shirts and hair were dripping wet.

I turned the hose off and slowly began to untie her gag.

"Did you like that?" I asked, my voice filled with mischief.

Amy's response was a mix of laughter and disbelief. "That was freezing!" she exclaimed as she spat out the soggy scarf. "But...but...it was also kind of...fun!" Despite the cold, she was grinning ear to ear, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I helped her out of the ropes, which were now loose and wet from her struggle against them. She stretched her arms and legs out with a contented sigh, the tension leaving her body. "My turn to get you, next" she said, her voice playful but with an underlying competitive edge.

“Hey. We’re even today.” I replied.

“There’s always tomorrow.”
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Bondageboi
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Post by Bondageboi »

Excellent story thanks
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Canuck100
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Post by Canuck100 »

Your story was definitely worth the wait! Well written, entertaining, it was a fun read!

Can’t wait to find out what tomorrow holds…
Im.V
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Post by Im.V »

Can’t wait to read more, great story! Hopefully won’t have to wait a year for the next part lol
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