Tickle Therapy (My Hot Bondage Experience): A BDSM Explicit Erotica Story

When my friend told me of the special clinic that helped her deal with her stress, I didn’t really think it would help. On the other hand, I was definitely ready to feel better. She finally persuaded me to at least give one session a try, and I agreed. How could I have known I’d end up naked, blindfolded, and bound to a table? How the hell could I have known I’d end up feeling fingertips dancing over my body that made me shriek and giggle and laugh? How the hell could I have known that stress relief would be so terrifying, exhilarating, and wonderful all at once?

Warning: this ebook contains very explicit descriptions of sexual activity and includes tickling, bondage, rough deepthroat, stranger sex, blindfold, and more. Only mature adults who won’t find that offensive should read this story.

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I felt horribly exposed lying there on the table, but I didn’t say anything. It was unique situation. I wasn’t used to being naked in front of anyone at all, much less being naked in front of someone who was a complete stranger.
I kept my eyes on the ceiling, so I felt rather than saw him putting something on me. It made me involuntarily strain against the straps on my wrists. I realized it was a blindfold when my vision disappeared, and it made everything even worse. Then, I felt something liquid being squirted on me, and his hand started to move over me. It realized that it was some kind of lotion or oil. Was I getting a massage? My eyes strained to look through the blindfold, but, of course, I couldn’t see a thing. His hands skimmed down over my sides and then, suddenly, they dug in. I squealed at once as ticklish sensations suddenly coursed through me.
“Jesus! Oh, fuck! Jesus!”
I heard him chuckle, an evil chuckle that sent shivers up my spine. “What happened? What’s wrong?” he asked.
“D-Do you have to tickle me?”
He ignored me and simply shimmied his hands back up along my sides until they rested just beside my breasts, and he began moving his fingertips right underneath my arms. I jerked and writhed on the table, and I could feel the straps cutting into my wrists and ankles as I tried to escape. Of course, thanks to the variation of bondage used on my ankles, my feet were right next to each other, which was an odd thing for the restriction of movement.
I protested some more, but he continued to ignore me. Then, something terrible happened. He moved down, just sliding his hands over my body the whole time, until he got to my feet. When his fingers first grazed over my feet, it felt unbelievable—literally unbelievable. It was impossible, like there was no fucking way on Earth that I was going to be able to handle it. I let out a long stream of giggles and laughter as his fingertips skittered all over my soles, and then he moved up and focused on my toes, digging his fingers between them.