Terri Asked to be Bound (M/F), part 3

[FrustratedBinder]

Readers who started with part 1 will know that Terri was intrigued about bondage and asked me to tie her up so she could experience it. Before we began, we established strict rules, including that I would not touch her crotch area. In part 1, I tied her to a chair and gently teased her nipples until she experienced a rare but intense nipple orgasm. In part 2, I tied he hands behind her back and her legs together. Then I made her hop around the room while I swatted her with a soft riding crop to keep her hopping. Later, I placed her legs and a frog tie and let her wriggle around to room to try to position herself on a wand-style vibrator on the floor. As she was about to experience an orgasm, I turned it off, pretending the battery had run down. Though she begged me for an orgasm, I insisted that it was against the rules. She became extremely frustrated and shouted some very unladylike things at me through her ball gag.

For our third session, instead of her coming to my house, I went to her house. She had a four-poster queen-sized bed that I wanted to use. When I arrived with a small duffel of toys, she was dressed as I had directed. She wore pink, cuffed, denim short shorts and a thin halter top. As was our regular activity, we sat at the table in her kitchen and made small talk.

“So what do you think of bondage, so far?” I asked eventually.

The blushed a little and admitted, “I am really enjoying it.”

“I know you enjoyed our first session, but I didn’t think you enjoyed the second session.”

She blushed even redder and looked down at her hands on the table. “I’ll admit, I wanted to murder you when you wouldn’t let me… cum… but the experience of helplessness was… luscious.”

“I’m glad you are enjoying it. I hope I can keep each session exciting for you.”

Finally, she asked, “So, what mischief do you have in store for me today? This isn’t as sexy an outfit as you wanted the first two times.”
I simply smiled at her, took her hand, and led her into her bedroom. "Lie down in the middle of the bed, face up,” I directed. As she positioned herself, I emptied the contents of the small duffel onto the corner of the bed. I wrapped padded cuffs securely around her wrists and ankles. They were tight enough that I knew she couldn’t pull free, but loose enough not to cause pain or cut off circulation. I then used four small locks to secure the cuffs.

With two lengths of rope, I pulled her ankles to two of the bedposts, spreading her legs. I used a knot called a taught-line hitch. This knot is used to secure tent ropes and other applications where tightening over time might be needed. She was going to struggle a lot. As the ropes stretched and loosened, I wanted to quickly tighten them again. I did the same with her wrists. After adjusting the taught line hitches several times, I had her in a very tight spread-eagle position. I was confident she wouldn’t be able to escape, but I wanted her to feel more securely bound.

I used larger cuffs that I attached just above her knees and elbows, also locking them in place. I ran a rope from the D-ring on one of the thigh cuffs under the bed and to the bicep cuff of the opposite arm. If she tried to move her leg, the rope would tug on her opposite arm. After attaching the other thigh and bicep cuffs, I tightened all the taught-line hitches to make her as immobile as possible.

“How do you feel?” I asked, “Is anything too tight.

She had a dreamy expression on her face as she shook her head. “Everything feels fine,” she replied.

“Do you think you can wiggle free?” I asked.

She tugged at her bonds but was unable to move much.

“Try a little harder,” I commanded.

She struggled vigorously for a few minutes while I ogled her attractive figure. “No, I don’t think I can get free,” she said finally. Worry began to creep across her face. Later, she explained how she suddent realized how vulnerable she was spread eagled on the bed and began to fear I might break the rules and do something terrible to her.

“Good. So, would you like to know what today’s game is?”

“Yes, please,” she replied. Her attitude was demure, but not subservient. We were engaged in bondage, not BDSM.

I sat on the bed next to her so that I could better view her cute face. “Remember, last time when you were tied to the hassock, how I gave you a little tickle?”

“Yeeees,” she responded suspiciously.

“That was a test to see if you are ticklish.”

Her eyes widened in fear. “I’m not ticklish,” she lied, “You don’t need to tickle me.”

I laughed. “Oh, don’t try to fool me. I saw your reaction.”

“Please don’t tickle me. I don’t think I can stand it. Yes, I lied. I am crazy ticklish.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I mocked, “Tickling is today’s game. I am going to tickle you until you are completely exhausted. My goal is for you to become a giggling puddle of sexy, ticklish girl.”

“No, please. Don’t tickle me! Really, I don’t think I can stand it.”

“That’s exactly what I am hoping for, Terri,” I said, “But I’ll give you a chance. I’m going to leave you alone for half an hour. If you can escape, I won’t tickle you. We’ll do something different today…”

“You know I can’t get loose. Please don’t tickle me. Let’s do something else.”

“… But if you don’t escape, I am going to tickle you mercilessly.”

I reached under her halter top and unfastened her bra. I lifted her bra and halter over her head and behind her neck, freeing her perky, ample, but not overly large breasts. I laid a small throw pillow under her head. I laid a hand on one breast, but I didn’t squeeze or fondle it. I just laid my hand on it.

“Now I have easy access to your armpits. Are you ready for the game to begin?” I asked.

“Please don’t do this. Please don’t leave me this way. Please don’t tickle me.” She struggled and tried to roll away from me, but she had no success escaping my grasp.

I walked over to her television and inserted a DVD of tickling bondage videos I had assembled. “This will give you some motivation, perhaps,” I joked. Then, looking at my watch, I said, “I have set an alarm for thirty minutes.”

She struggled desperately, but as I had hoped, she was firmly bound. She pulled and strained, but to no avail. I sat in a chair across the room, watching both the ticking victims on the video and Terri’s frantic struggles. Her breasts bounced and jiggled enticingly. Occasionally, she paused to rest, looked at me with pleading eyes, or stared fearfully at the bound tickle victims on the DVD, and begged me not to tickle her. At those moments, I pretended to ignore her while I focused on the video. From our past sessions, I knew that when I ignored Terri, she felt especially helpless — a feeling she craved.

The alarm on my watch sounded. Thirty minutes arrived too soon for Terri and too long for me. Watching her struggle was turning me on. Her skin was red and glistening with the exertion of trying to escape. “Please,” she begged. “Just give me fifteen more minutes.”

I examined her bonds. She was no closer to escape than when the timer started. “Do you think you’ll be any closer to escape in fifteen minutes?” I asked. I adjusted the taught-line hitches to compensate for some stretching in the rope.

Her whole body sagged, and she admitted, “No. But I am hoping to delay being tickled a little longer.”

"Very well." I reset the timer for fifteen minutes and sat on the chair to enjoy her jiggling, bouncing, and writhing. Fifteen minutes later, she was no closer to escape.

“I think I have been more than generous,” I said with a mock sigh as I approached her bed. I picked up a hairbrush with stiff, plastic bristles and rubbed one of her feet. The reaction was better than I expected. She squealed loudly and thrust her hips in the air, trying to pull away. I kept scrubbing her foot as she struggled, laughed, and screamed.

“Please!” she screamed, “Stop!”

Ignoring her pleas, after a few minutes, I turned my attention to the other foot. She was laughing hysterically, straining against the ropes with all her might.

“I’ll do anything. Just, please stop.”

I laughed, setting down the brush. “This is just the beginning. Don’t give up so easily.”

As she gasped for air, she panted, “I don’t think I can stand anymore.”

Without a word, I climbed onto the bed and straddled her hips. After giving her a few minutes to recover her senses, I mercilessly tickled her ribs as she struggled and bucked wildly. She was laughing so hard that no sound came out of her mouth as she shook and strained. She had thrown her head back, her eyes tightly shut. I kept tickling her ribs and tummy until they were bright pink. Through deep, uncontrollable gasps of laughter, she begged, “Please! Please! Stop. I can’t breathe.”

I stopped long enough for her to catch her breath. After a few minutes, she began to calm down and collapsed limply in her bonds. When I thought it was safe to continue, I assaulted her armpits. After all the struggles she had already gone through, I was amazed and aroused by the energy and strength of her struggles. Her gasps of laughter had become breathless screams, and her voice was becoming hoarse. I then tickled her collarbone. She screeched and struggled uncontrollably so hard, I thought she might break the ropes. Her whole body had become ticklish. Anywhere I touched elicited renewed, frantic convulsions and loud half laughs, half screams for mercy. Whether I ran my fingers over her collarbone, armpits, ribs, boobs, nipples, or tummy, any touch was ticklish torture. She was nearing complete exhaustion.

I moved next to her and focused on her knees, inner thighs, and the crease between her tummy and upper thigh. Although her voice was hoarse and gravelly, her skin was drenched in sweat, and her body was exhausted from almost an hour of struggle, this new attack on a different part of her caused her to jerk and shudder again. Tears streamed down her face, and drool ran from the corners of her mouth. In her attempts to escape, she violently slammed the back of her head into the pillow behind her neck.

Amid uncontrollable bursts of laughter and futilely bouncing her hips up and down, she sobbed. "Please, please, please."

Fearing she might hurt herself, pee herself, lose consciousness, or all three, I stopped. I sat beside her on the bed and smiled at her. It took a few minutes for her to realize she was no longer being tickled. Without me moving or touching her, she would begin to calm down, then she would start uncontrollable laughing again. This cycle repeated several times until her breathing returned to normal. Her eyes fluttered open, and she smiled up at me.

“You’re a cruel bastard,” she panted, then laughed.

“You could have invoked the safe word,” I reminded her.

She giggled. “I couldn’t think clearly enough to do that. All I could think about was escape, but you did an outstanding job of immobilizing me.”

“I wanted to hear you laugh, so I didn’t use the gag this time, but I was worried someone would call the police. Maybe I should have gagged you.”

She giggled again. I got off the bed and retightened all the taught-line hitches. “Is everything okay? Nothing painful or numb?”

She thought about it, mentally taking stock of her hands and feet.

“Everything is reasonably comfortable.”

I placed my hand on her stomach. This caused her to convulse. “Wow,” I said, “Just a few minutes ago, everything I touched made you laugh, but I thought that would have faded by now. I am going to leave you here for a while to enjoy your bondage – until you calm down and return to normal.”

Through the closed door, I could hear her renew her vain struggles to get free.

A half hour later, she had calmed herself. I walked into the room and rubbed her bare soles with whipped cream. She thought I was rubbing some lotion on her feet, but she tried to jerk away because her feet were still exquisitely sensitive. After a bit of searching, I found her young kitten and placed it near one of her feet. The kitten sniffed her foot and then began licking off the whipped cream. She wiggled her foot to avoid the kitten’s sandpaper tongue, but with no success. She again started to laugh uncontrollably, jerking at her bonds. “I thought we were done!” she screeched. While the kitten was enjoying tormenting her owner, I rubbed more whipped cream on the other foot. I really enjoyed watching Terri try to escape the kitten’s tongue. When the first foot was cleaned, I moved the kitten to her other foot. When both feet were cleaned, I was going to give her armpits the same kitten tongue treatment, but Terri was incredibly exhausted. I left her tied in a spread-eagled position on the bed until she fell into an exhausted sleep. She woke about a half hour later and asked to be released. After I untied her, I rolled her onto her stomach. She couldn’t do it herself. I gently massaged her arms, back, buttocks, and legs until she fell asleep again, curling into a fetal position. I waited until I was sure she was okay before I went home.

Terri adds:

Being tied in a very taut spread eagle suddenly made me realize how much I was trusting him -- especially when he removed my blouse and bra and touched one of my boobs. In this position, he could have his way with me. With my legs spread in a very unladylike way, I felt so vulnerable! I know asking him to tie me up was all my idea, but how well did I really know him? Though touching my crotch area was against the rules, if he wanted to rape me or worse, there was nothing I could do. I could feel my heart pounding. So far, he had been meticulous about following our rules, but had he merely lulled me into a false sense of security? I tried to reassure myself of his intentions, but I nonetheless tugged frantically against my bonds. I really wanted to get free! My concerns about him having his way with me were pushed aside when he began tickling me.

Tickling is absolute torture for me. Ever since I was a kid, I have completely lost control when I am tickled. After he had me tied up and told me that he was going to tickle me, I was terrified. I like the way he ties me inescapably but not painfully. I was praying he had made a mistake. I was trying with all my might to get loose, but no matter how hard I tried, I remained in a tight spread eagle. This might be the most helpless I've ever been. It was an incredible feeling – until the tickling began.

His tickling was merciless. He seemed to know when to move to another part of my body when one part was getting desensitized. I was laughing so hard that I couldn't even make a sound. I was frightened at one point when I couldn’t take a breath. I managed to let him know, and he stopped so that I could breathe again. That was the most helpless feeling I have ever had. No matter how hard I struggled, he maintained his relentless attack on my most sensitive areas, and the harder I laughed.

When I admitted during a lull in this tickle torture that I didn’t think I could stand any more, he reminded me of the safe word. During his tickle attack, I didn’t have the presence of mind to utter the word. Had I remembered, I might not have used it anyway. I know this was torture, but it was also erotic and sensual. I begged him to stop, but I was satisfied that he didn’t.

When I was beginning to feel like a human again, instead of just a jiggling, quivering tickle victim, and I wanted to get loose, he rubbed whipped cream on the bottoms of my feet and set my kitten next to them. The kitten did what kittens do, and he licked the cream off my feet. That sandpaper tongue was just as unbearable as the hairbrush had been. I tried to kick the kitten away, but he was persistent.

Part of what made this bondage so exciting was the occasional interludes. I thought he was done and was going to set me free more than once, but then he would renew his tickling. Even during breaks when he let me rest, my mind was focused on the renewed tickle torture I knew was just a few moments away. I thought the session was over, but then he had the kitten tickle my feet. When he finally released me, I could barely sit or stand. My stomach felt like someone had punched me in the gut. I could not sit up on my own. Every muscle in my body, including my belly, was sore. Every time I moved and felt the soreness in my arms and legs for the next few days, it reminded me of this scary and exciting experience. I don’t relish doing it again soon, but I treasure the experience immensely.

He is doing a fantastic job helping me experience different types of bondage.

[Derftg]

I just finished all the parts of this story and I can’t wait to read the next!!

[RopeBunny]

Not the biggest fan of tickling, it isn't something I've ever included in a story, not something that particularly interests.

But.

That having been said this chapter has kept the theme going brilliantly, still well written with great descriptions. An enjoyable read.

Thank you.

[StringTheorist]

Hi @FrustratedBinder

I concur with @RopeBunny Well done.
I found it interesting the naming of a particular knot - taught-line hitch. Rare detail in Tug stories.
One typo - what part of Terri's anatomy is her 'beast".
Interesting the introduction of her pet.

ST

[latin-self-bound]

I've loved your stories involving Terri!! And I'm looking forward to the next parts. All the scenarios are very creative, and the final words from Terri add a whole new dimension of the experience to the readers.

[FrustratedBinder]

Thanks for all the kind words. Part four will be posted next week.