Would you rather... (pt.1)
I was inspired by a post written recently that suggested tickling versions of “would you rather…” and thought I might kick things off with a couple scenarios that are reflections of each other, except one is much more intense while the other is much more intimate. This is only part one, as I did not want to make one long post including both, part two will be posted immediately after this, as well a short post asking the simple question, “Would you rather…?” I like to call these options “Heaven” and “Hell”, as you’ll soon see why.
In one option, you’re strapped down tightly across a padded bench, not an inch of movement is afforded, your limbs stretched out for obvious purposes. Blindfolded, gagged, and left to wait until your captors are ready. Yes, I said “captors”. Plural. You won’t know how many, but more ticklers than you might have hoped descend upon you. Before you even know they’ve arrived, their touch drives you to hysterics.Â
You can feel them scribble at your ribs, grope at your thighs and knees, their fingers dig into your armpits. Your feet, ohhhh forget that, your feet alone have you gasping for air, it feels like there could be three people for each foot from all the attention lavished upon them. Fingers probe and twist under and between your flailing toes, scamper along your soles, scratch across your heels, drag over the pads of your feet. Not an inch of flesh is spared, it feels like everything is being attacked all at once.Â
Then the real terror comes… you don’t know it’s there until it’s turned on, something buzzing between your legs. You try to close your knees, but you were well secured before this even began, there’s no way they’re going to let you go now. As the head of this unseen, buzzing toy finally touches you, it cuts off any of your muffled, giggly protests and forces a beautifully strained moan from your lips. Oh god, what delicious agony you’re submerged in.Â
Yet the tickling does not stop, if anything it’s renewed. Any new spot or technique they stumble upon that best milks more laughter from you is absolutely abused. Not a single nerve-ending is allowed to take a leave-of-absence, not today. It’s almost a certainty that, once those vibrations really get your insides churning and your hips aching to thrust as they’re unable to, you’ll start to welcome it. Oh, but how wrong you are to think this. This won’t save you, this won’t allow you respite, this will make things all the worst for you, oh ticklish one.Â
Once you do orgasm, and you will, you’ll want to bask in an afterglow that will only exist for a moment before a sharp realization comes: they’re not stopping, their fingers are still moving, that fucking buzzing is still between your legs! Did you think they wouldn’t take advantage of the over-sensitized state this would leave you in? Oh, you silly little thing, you’re not being let go that easily, they want to take advantage of every new tender spot this has given them, including the new one between you legs that seems to have you thrashing and screaming far more than anything else before might have. Torture never looked so sexy.
