Tickle fantasy
I wonder what would happen if you were left completely vulnerable and at my mercy: stripped down to your underwear, lying on a king size bed, bound and strapped to make sur you can't move an inch. A ball gag would fit snugly between your teeth, and a blindfold tightly over your eyes, making sure the only sense you had left would be feeling the merciless tickle torture inflicted upon your person.
I wonder what would happen if I took every bit of control away from you. Starting with skittering my fingers across your tender underarms.
Then probably, would I poke and prod in between each rib as you buck against your restraints desperately with no escape in sight. just squirming under my touches and having no other choices but taking it.
Your legs would next quiver underneath each caress I inflict upon them, and your feet would feel nothing but the radiating sensation of nails across their surface. Toes curling uncontrollably only just fear the next tool arrives to attack these oiled soles.
As your feet twitch uncontrolalbly, throwing a hairbrush here and there would complete the work and definitely drive you mad beyond belief.
I wonder what would happen if all I hoped from this session was to break you inside and out: that for a full hour, you would be subject to a timer, one that was set to intervals of fifty seconds and ten seconds, and that for every fifty seconds of ruthless nonstop tickling, you would only receive a precious ten seconds to catch your breath.
Oh but what a restless ten seconds it would be, as I count aloud those remaining moments as you lay there blind and unable to beg, knowing these breaks are few and far between for you to hope to regain any sense of composure before I begin my torments yet again.
I wonder if you would even make it to the end of the hour before forgetting you ever even had a name or a life before becoming a broken little tickle toy, but then again, I wonder if you would want it any other way.
