Just at the time when 54 year old dependable Heather should have been giving her daughter Maggie the most support. Just when Maggie’s world fell apart and the love of her life turned out to be a two timing adulterous fraudster. Just When Maggie should turn to the unconditional love of her parents. Maggie’s father died of a heart attack. Two of the three most important people in her life were gone. Heather too was devastated. She could barely cope with her own grief, let alone support Maggie.
Maggie moved in with mum but short of mutual support the misery was doubled and more. Then Maggie stumbled on an advert from an old friend from university. A psychology doctorate, Jan was advertising a support for bereaved families amongst other things. It was Heather who made the call however. It turned out Jan had unconventional ideas, but Heather listened, and a couple of weeks later, Saturday morning, ther “session†was on. Unconventional again, Jan had visited their home.
"I can't believe we're actually doing this," Heather murmured, her voice thick with skepticism, as she studied the array of silk scarves and soft ropes laid out on the living room coffee table.
Maggie, still wearing her pyjamas gave her mother a tentative smile. "Remember, Mom, Jan said it's supposed to be...therapeutic."
Heather's eyebrows shot up. "Therapeutic? Being tickled senseless?"
Jan, ever the optimist, chuckled. "Trust me, it's all about vulnerability and bonding."
The room was filled with a tension that felt palpable, yet underneath it all, there was a sense of curiosity that neither Heather nor Maggie could ignore. They had both reached points in their lives where they were desperate to feel anything other than pain, and if Jan's unorthodox methods could provide them with a semblance of relief, they were willing to try. With a deep breath, Heather began to unbutton her blouse, her eyes never leaving Jan's calm gaze.
Maggie, slightly more hesitant, followed suit, her cheeks flushing as she peeled off her pyjama top, exposing her bare boobs to the cool air. Jan moved gracefully around the room, setting the scene for their weekend of 'therapy'. She dimmed the lights and lit a few candles, casting a warm glow that flickered over their nervous expressions. Soft, meditative music filled the space, creating an atmosphere that was somehow both soothing and unsettling.
Heather and Maggie sat side by side on the plush sofa, their hearts racing in sync as Jan approached them with a gentle smile. "Now, don't worry," she cooed, her voice as smooth as honey. "I'll be as careful as possible. But you might have some rope marks still on Monday.
With surprising deftness, Jan began to secure Heather's wrists behind her back with the hemp rope, her touch feather-light yet firm. She tied her elbows next, ensuring that Heather's arms were comfortably bound yet well restrained and useless. Heather couldn't help but feel a strange mix of fear and anticipation as she watched Jan's skilled hands move with practiced ease.
Maggie's eyes widened slightly as Jan turned to her, but she didn't protest. She firstly removed her pyjamas, throwing them onto the floor and revealing her curvy, slightly chubby body in all its glory. Then she too was bound in a similar fashion to her mother. Jan then helped Heather out of her pyjama trousers before she secured their ankles together with another length of rope, creating a sense of shared vulnerability between the mother and daughter. Knees, thighs and toes followed. The older red-headed woman took a deep breath, her ample chest rising and falling with the effort, and the soft jingle of the ropes against the floor filled the air.
The two of them sat there, naked and bound, their skin prickling with the anticipation of Jan's tickling touch. Jan walked over to a cupboard and pulled out a feather, smiling mischievously as she twirled it between her fingers. She approached Heather first, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she trailed the feather lightly along her neck. Heather's breath hitched, but she remained stoic, her green eyes boring into Jan's as if daring her to go further.
Maggie's gaze was glued to her mother, her own body tensing in anticipation of the sensation. "Any... last words?" Jan teased, her voice dripping with playful menace.
"Don't forget the gags," Heather said through gritted teeth, a hint of a smile playing on her lips despite the nerves. "We're both very ticklish, and by hell we can scream."
Jan's grin widened as she nodded, pulling out two red, rubber ball gags from her bag of tricks. She knelt before Heather, who rolled her eyes but obediently opened her mouth. With a gentle push, Jan secured the gag in place, fastening the strap at the back of her head. She repeated the process with Maggie, whose cheeks were now a deep shade of red. The sight of her mother bound and gagged like this was both disturbing and oddly comforting; it meant she wasn't alone in this strange adventure.
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Unconventional therapy (F/FF)
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milagros317
- Centennial Club
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- Location: New York City
Nice chapter, can't wait for more
Once both women were properly silenced, Jan took a seat on the floor in front of them. She began with Heather's feet, her feather tracing intricate patterns across the sensitive skin, making her squirm and try to pull away despite her restraint. The room was filled with the muffled sounds of Heather's laughter, her body jolting with every tickle. Maggie felt her own feet twitch in response, and she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like when it was her turn.
Jan's touch was gentle yet insistent, moving from Heather's toes up to her knees, and then back down again. Each caress of the feather brought forth a symphony of giggles and squirms from the bound woman, her eyes watering with the effort of holding in her laughter. The sight was both mesmerizing and slightly alarming for Maggie, who felt a knot of anxiety coil in her stomach.
As Jan worked her way up Heather's body, her feather teasing the insides of her thighs and making her squirm even more, Maggie couldn't help but feel a strange sense of arousal. The intimacy of the moment, the shared vulnerability, and the sheer absurdity of the situation created an unexpected connection between the three of them. Despite the sadness that had brought them here, there was a spark of life in the room that hadn't been present for weeks.
Don't fight it. Laugh. Jan's words echoed in Maggie's mind as she watched her mother's face contort with every tickle. It was as if she was being reminded of a simple truth: that amidst pain and grief, there was still room for joy, however unconventional it may be. And so, when Jan finally switched her attention to Maggie's feet, the younger woman allowed herself to succumb to the sensations. The feather's touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure-pain through her body that she hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity.
Maggie's eyes squeezed shut as she tried to control her reaction, but her body had a mind of its own. Her stomach muscles tightened, her bound legs jerked, and her chest heaved with suppressed laughter. Jan's feather danced across the arch of her foot, along the sensitive line from her ankle to her knee, and she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. Despite herself, she felt a strange sense of liberation in her helplessness, a catharsis that she hadn't expected. Normally she hated being tickled, and although the feeling was highly unpleasant, verging on torture. She felt a connection with her mother that had been lost recently.
Her mother's muffled giggles filled the room like music, a sweet reminder of the joy that they had once shared so freely. As Jan moved up to her thighs, Maggie felt a warmth spread through her that was entirely unrelated to the tickling. She bit down on the rubber ball in her mouth, the taste faintly chemical and unpleasant, and tried to focus on the sensations. The feather's caress was driving her mad with pleasure, a kind of madness she hadn't felt since the early days of her marriage, before everything had gone so wrong.
But as Jan's touch grew bolder, Maggie's hatred for tickling reared its head once more. Her body tensed, and she tried to pull away, her feet kicking at the air in a futile attempt to escape Jan's relentless feather. Panic bubbled up in her chest, and she realized she couldn't stand it anymore. She had to get away, she had to scream, she had to do something to make it stop.
Her eyes, brimming with unshed tears, searched the room for anything she could use to her advantage. She bit down harder on her gag trying to work it loose. But Jan's knot was tight, and the rubber only dug further into her cheeks as she struggled. Her muffled cries grew more frantic, her breath coming in ragged gasps around the obstruction.
Jan, noticing the change in Maggie's demeanor, paused in her ministrations, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the younger woman's distress. "It's okay," she murmured soothingly, switching her attention to Heather's bound form. "Just breathe through it."
Jan's touch was gentle yet insistent, moving from Heather's toes up to her knees, and then back down again. Each caress of the feather brought forth a symphony of giggles and squirms from the bound woman, her eyes watering with the effort of holding in her laughter. The sight was both mesmerizing and slightly alarming for Maggie, who felt a knot of anxiety coil in her stomach.
As Jan worked her way up Heather's body, her feather teasing the insides of her thighs and making her squirm even more, Maggie couldn't help but feel a strange sense of arousal. The intimacy of the moment, the shared vulnerability, and the sheer absurdity of the situation created an unexpected connection between the three of them. Despite the sadness that had brought them here, there was a spark of life in the room that hadn't been present for weeks.
Don't fight it. Laugh. Jan's words echoed in Maggie's mind as she watched her mother's face contort with every tickle. It was as if she was being reminded of a simple truth: that amidst pain and grief, there was still room for joy, however unconventional it may be. And so, when Jan finally switched her attention to Maggie's feet, the younger woman allowed herself to succumb to the sensations. The feather's touch was electric, sending waves of pleasure-pain through her body that she hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity.
Maggie's eyes squeezed shut as she tried to control her reaction, but her body had a mind of its own. Her stomach muscles tightened, her bound legs jerked, and her chest heaved with suppressed laughter. Jan's feather danced across the arch of her foot, along the sensitive line from her ankle to her knee, and she could feel the heat rising to her cheeks. Despite herself, she felt a strange sense of liberation in her helplessness, a catharsis that she hadn't expected. Normally she hated being tickled, and although the feeling was highly unpleasant, verging on torture. She felt a connection with her mother that had been lost recently.
Her mother's muffled giggles filled the room like music, a sweet reminder of the joy that they had once shared so freely. As Jan moved up to her thighs, Maggie felt a warmth spread through her that was entirely unrelated to the tickling. She bit down on the rubber ball in her mouth, the taste faintly chemical and unpleasant, and tried to focus on the sensations. The feather's caress was driving her mad with pleasure, a kind of madness she hadn't felt since the early days of her marriage, before everything had gone so wrong.
But as Jan's touch grew bolder, Maggie's hatred for tickling reared its head once more. Her body tensed, and she tried to pull away, her feet kicking at the air in a futile attempt to escape Jan's relentless feather. Panic bubbled up in her chest, and she realized she couldn't stand it anymore. She had to get away, she had to scream, she had to do something to make it stop.
Her eyes, brimming with unshed tears, searched the room for anything she could use to her advantage. She bit down harder on her gag trying to work it loose. But Jan's knot was tight, and the rubber only dug further into her cheeks as she struggled. Her muffled cries grew more frantic, her breath coming in ragged gasps around the obstruction.
Jan, noticing the change in Maggie's demeanor, paused in her ministrations, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the younger woman's distress. "It's okay," she murmured soothingly, switching her attention to Heather's bound form. "Just breathe through it."
Maggie gasped around the gag, her eyes watering as she stared at the clock on the wall. She’d been tickled for barely 5 minutes and she felt her body was on fire. She tugged at the ropes binding her arms and legs the rough chords biting into her skin. The room was cold, a stark contrast to the heat that flushed her cheeks and neck. The rubber ball filling her mouth was an unwelcome intrusion, a constant reminder of the predicament she had found herself in.
Jan, however, seemed unfazed by Maggie’s plight, her own eyes sparkling with mischief as she continued her methodical tickling. She moved from Maggie’s thighs to her armpits, eliciting a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a squeak. Heather, whose laughter had subsided to a series of occasional snorts, watched with a mix of amusement and concern.
The feather hovered over Maggie’s nipples, poised to strike. She could feel it, the anticipation almost worse than the tickling itself. When it finally did, she jolted, the sudden sensation sending shockwaves through her body. Jan's touch was precise, hitting every sensitive spot with a sadistic glee that only made Maggie's struggle more desperate.
Her body was a canvas of sensations, each stroke of the feather leaving a trail of goosebumps and shivers. It was maddening, but she couldn’t deny the arousal that grew with each passing second. Jan's eyes never left hers, a silent challenge that Maggie found both infuriating and oddly comforting.
The minutes stretched on, feeling like hours, as Jan's feather danced over her stomach, her ribs, the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, her neck, nipples and bare feet. Maggie's muffled pleas for mercy grew more desperate, her eyes darting between Jan and Heather. The older woman's amusement had turned to a concerned curiosity, and she began to squirm in her own bonds, her breath hitching as she watched her daughter's distress.
The feather hovered over Maggie's pussy, the soft, downy touch a stark contrast to the rough ropes that held her in place. Jan's gaze remained locked with hers, a silent question in her eyes. Maggie's body screamed for relief, her mind racing with the forbidden thoughts of what was about to happen. With a deep, shaky breath, she nodded almost imperceptibly, and Jan's smile grew.
The feather danced around the edge of her folds, the light tickle making her hips buck. Jan's eyes darkened with desire as she watched Maggie's body respond, her own breath quickening. With a wicked flick of her wrist, the feather brushed against her clit, and Maggie's eyes rolled back in her head. The sensation was exquisite, the pressure building inside her like a coiled spring.
Her movements grew more erratic, her hips trying to find purchase as the feather danced just out of reach. Jan's hand slid down her torso, teasing her with the promise of relief, but always retreating before she could come. Each retreat was a denial, each touch a taunt that made the need more intense. Maggie's whimpers grew louder, the rubber ball in her mouth muffling the cries that threatened to spill out.
The room was a symphony of sound: the slap of skin against skin, the heavy breathing of two bound women, and the muted chuckles of Jan as she watched Maggie's body beg for more. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with desire and a hint of fear. Maggie's eyes fluttered shut, her mind lost in the sensations, and when Jan finally ceased her torture, she felt an agonizing emptiness that only served to fuel her need.
Maggie lay there, a sweaty, panting, barely conscious mess. Her limbs were leaden, her chest heaving with the effort to draw in breath around the gag. Her skin felt alive, every nerve ending singing with the aftermath of Jan's feather play. The room spun around her, and she couldn't tell if it was the lack of oxygen or the overwhelming sensory overload that had brought her to this state.
Jan turned her back on Maggie and locked eyes with Heather.
Jan, however, seemed unfazed by Maggie’s plight, her own eyes sparkling with mischief as she continued her methodical tickling. She moved from Maggie’s thighs to her armpits, eliciting a sound that was somewhere between a grunt and a squeak. Heather, whose laughter had subsided to a series of occasional snorts, watched with a mix of amusement and concern.
The feather hovered over Maggie’s nipples, poised to strike. She could feel it, the anticipation almost worse than the tickling itself. When it finally did, she jolted, the sudden sensation sending shockwaves through her body. Jan's touch was precise, hitting every sensitive spot with a sadistic glee that only made Maggie's struggle more desperate.
Her body was a canvas of sensations, each stroke of the feather leaving a trail of goosebumps and shivers. It was maddening, but she couldn’t deny the arousal that grew with each passing second. Jan's eyes never left hers, a silent challenge that Maggie found both infuriating and oddly comforting.
The minutes stretched on, feeling like hours, as Jan's feather danced over her stomach, her ribs, the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, her neck, nipples and bare feet. Maggie's muffled pleas for mercy grew more desperate, her eyes darting between Jan and Heather. The older woman's amusement had turned to a concerned curiosity, and she began to squirm in her own bonds, her breath hitching as she watched her daughter's distress.
The feather hovered over Maggie's pussy, the soft, downy touch a stark contrast to the rough ropes that held her in place. Jan's gaze remained locked with hers, a silent question in her eyes. Maggie's body screamed for relief, her mind racing with the forbidden thoughts of what was about to happen. With a deep, shaky breath, she nodded almost imperceptibly, and Jan's smile grew.
The feather danced around the edge of her folds, the light tickle making her hips buck. Jan's eyes darkened with desire as she watched Maggie's body respond, her own breath quickening. With a wicked flick of her wrist, the feather brushed against her clit, and Maggie's eyes rolled back in her head. The sensation was exquisite, the pressure building inside her like a coiled spring.
Her movements grew more erratic, her hips trying to find purchase as the feather danced just out of reach. Jan's hand slid down her torso, teasing her with the promise of relief, but always retreating before she could come. Each retreat was a denial, each touch a taunt that made the need more intense. Maggie's whimpers grew louder, the rubber ball in her mouth muffling the cries that threatened to spill out.
The room was a symphony of sound: the slap of skin against skin, the heavy breathing of two bound women, and the muted chuckles of Jan as she watched Maggie's body beg for more. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with desire and a hint of fear. Maggie's eyes fluttered shut, her mind lost in the sensations, and when Jan finally ceased her torture, she felt an agonizing emptiness that only served to fuel her need.
Maggie lay there, a sweaty, panting, barely conscious mess. Her limbs were leaden, her chest heaving with the effort to draw in breath around the gag. Her skin felt alive, every nerve ending singing with the aftermath of Jan's feather play. The room spun around her, and she couldn't tell if it was the lack of oxygen or the overwhelming sensory overload that had brought her to this state.
Jan turned her back on Maggie and locked eyes with Heather.
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milagros317
- Centennial Club
- Posts: 273
- Joined: 6 years ago
- Location: New York City
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ShyTiedBoy
I love your writing style! Very descriptive and arousing!
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latin-self-bound
- Forum Contributer
- Posts: 73
- Joined: 2 years ago
- Location: Chile
Very good story!! I want to read the following chapters and the conclusion with the resulting bonding of the three women.
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StringTheorist
- Centennial Club
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- Joined: 2 years ago
- Location: Canada
Hello @Janbound
I second the comments above by @ShyTiedBoy and @latin-self-bound
I wonder what the thoughts of Maggie and Heather will be like when they get over their current emotional crisis and into bondage as a way of pure pleasure. Perhaps they will eventually enter the subspace of @JulieG and describe their feelings later.
And/or take feathers to a helpless Janbound.
ST
I second the comments above by @ShyTiedBoy and @latin-self-bound
I wonder what the thoughts of Maggie and Heather will be like when they get over their current emotional crisis and into bondage as a way of pure pleasure. Perhaps they will eventually enter the subspace of @JulieG and describe their feelings later.
And/or take feathers to a helpless Janbound.
ST