🚧T Word Territory🚧

“Anything but there!!”

“Please no”

“Not there, not there”

“Nonono”

And they’re like:

“Oh right here?”

“Seems like I found the spot”

“I think I should stay right there”

“You need a tickle attack!”

stop stop STOP ~ But you're cumming

This is torture ~ But you're cumming

You know, to *really* get you to sell that CNC feel, as you start begging me to stop, while thrashing around and cumming all over my hands.

There's absolutely nothing you can do to stop this sadistic little brat from torturing you

and because she's suffered the same punishment countless times herself, she knows, with exquisite precision, how to make it unbearable 🌸

~ All characters are 21+

~ CW: NSFW

~ Minors DNI

“Ah, finally … the weekend.” I sighed out loud to my empty apartment as I walked through the door. Another grueling work week was over, and I couldn’t wait to get into my comfy clothes and onto my couch. I got changed, poured myself a glass of wine, grabbed a snack, and planted my ass on the couch, remote in hand.

As I clicked through my various streaming services, trying to land on something to watch, I got a notification on my phone from my doorbell camera that someone was outside. I opened the app to see who it was.

My landlord.

Go figure. I hadn’t spoken to him much since our last encounter a little over a month ago. He texted me a few days later to let me know he’d be out of a town for a few weeks. I couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when I realized I’d get a reprieve from the near-constant anxiety of running into him. But all good things must come to an end. I closed the app and turned my attention back to the tv. I landed on one of my favorite comfort sitcoms and pressed play. A few 30-minute episodes later, I heard my phone go off again. My heart sank to my stomach when I read the name on the screen.

Alex (Landlord): “Hey, I’m back. I see you’re home, can you talk in a few?”

Fuck.

I really didn’t want to talk to him, but I knew I couldn’t avoid him forever. I swallowed the remnants of my half-full glass of wine, and got up to pour myself another before responding.

Charlotte: “Sure, come up whenever.”

Barely two seconds later, I got another text.

Alex (Landlord): “Cool, I’ll be up shortly. Don’t worry, I’ll knock first so you have time to put your pants back on 😉”

I felt a hot mix of angry and flustered as I read the message. What a dick. I really hope that’s not what he’s coming up here to talk about. I thought back to that humiliating day when he walked in on me bringing myself to orgasm at the sight of a beautiful bound woman being tickle tortured by her captor. Over the following weeks, I hoped he chalked it up to some type of quasi-vanilla bondage foreplay type situation. As horrifying as it was, the fact remains that being walked in on while watching vanilla porn was still preferable to being walked in on watching what I was watching.

I thought back to the last thing he said to me, “And by the way, if you’re ever looking to enjoy anyone else’s company apart from your own, I’d be happy to assist in recreating that video you seemed to enjoy so much, I can even provide the restraints.” What could he possibly have meant by that? Surely he must not have realized that I was watching tickle porn. Surely, he was not suggesting ….

I shook my head aggressively, as if I could physically shake the thought from my mind. I killed the second glass of wine in all but two sips. I knew I was going to need a good buzz if I was going to make it through whatever conversation he wanted to have, so I poured another.

A few minutes later I heard a knock at the door, followed by a smug “You decent?” I didn’t need to see his face to know he was sporting that stupid grin. “Come in.” I said flatly, not moving from my spot on the couch.

He sauntered in immediately, turning the corner to look at me. I was right. Stupid grin. Stupid face. Stupid hot.

“What’cha watching?” He smirks again. I rolled my eyes. “You’re back.” I said plainly.

“I am, miss me?”

“Not as much as I’ll miss the peace and quiet I had around here the past few weeks, but all good things must come to an end.” I said, not bothering to reign in the attitude in my tone.

He took a seat on the armchair across the room next to the tv and looked at me. Even though he was still sporting that stupid grin, he seemed almost, sad.

“And to what do I owe this visit, hm? Hasn’t snowed for a few weeks, it’s getting warmer.”

He let out a big sigh. “I was hoping to clear the air. Jokes aside, you’ve been nothing but a great tenant. You’re clean, you’re quiet, your rent is always paid on time. But I can tell that you’re uncomfortable around me, and I don’t want that. I know I don’t know you that well, but you seem like a good person, Charlotte, and I enjoy talking to you whenever you’re kind enough to let me intrude on your ‘you time.’ But most importantly, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable in your own living space. I don’t want you to feel like you have to avoid me either. It was my mistake to let myself in here, it was my fault for not knocking, and I don’t want you to feel embarrassed about anything that happened that day.”

I wasn’t quite sure what to say, so I settled on “I’m not embarrassed and I haven’t been avoiding you.” It was a lie. I had been.

There was that stupid grin again. “Charlotte, do you honestly think I haven’t noticed you circling the block when you see me outside? Or waiting until I’m inside to go out and grab your mail? You are embarrassed, and you’re avoiding me.”

I don’t know if it was the wine, or the shame that had been bubbling just beneath the surface for the past few weeks, but I finally snapped. “Fine. Of course I’m embarrassed. It was a private moment, not meant for anyone’s prying eyes! And then you walk in here weeks later with your cute little suggestions and your stupid smile, texting me stupid jokes about it. Of course I’m embarrassed!”

“Cute. Little. Suggestions.” He echoed my words. “Listen, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. Everyone has their thing.”

I swallowed hard and turned my head away from him and toward my paused tv. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

That stupid. fucking. grin. “Yes you do.” He teased. “I saw what you were watching - and even though I shouldn’t have - I saw how much you liked it. I saw how visibly turned on you were with your eyes glued to that screen, so much so you didn’t even hear me enter the room.” He got up from the armchair and took the seat immediately next to me, nearly whispering in my ear, “And I heard those sexy little moans escaping your lips, I saw your eyes glued to that screen watching that woman, I saw you grinding that pretty little pussy of yours against that vibrator … I regret intruding on you, and I regret upsetting you. But my biggest regret of all? Not sticking around to help finish the job. I’ve always found you attractive, Charlotte, and there is nothing sexier than a woman who knows what she likes.”

I could feel the warmth creeping in my cheeks, as well as other places. I was confused. Did he truly know what I was watching? He couldn’t have. I couldn’t handle this. He was so close to me, and so undeniably attractive. That voice. That face. Trying to maintain my composure, I decided to stick to my original narrative of denial. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Tsk tsk tsk.” He shook his head as he slowly backed his head from my ear, remaining seated next to me. “Your mouth says one thing, but your body is singing a very different tune…” he lightly nodded in the direction of my legs. I looked down, I was wearing shorts, a tank top and a loose cardigan. I realized he was gesturing toward my thighs, which I hadn’t noticed were firmly glued together. I paused to take inventory of how my entire body felt. The goosebumps. The heat between my legs. My rapid heart beat. Fuck I was horny. My landlord was turning me on without laying a single finger on me. And what’s worse? He knew exactly what he was doing.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably just a few moments, I spoke up, trying yet failing to keep my voice as even as possible. “I … I don’t … I think you’re confused about what you saw.”

He leaned in again. His mouth was so close to my neck, practically taunting me. “Do you want to know what I saw?” I didn’t say anything. After a moment, he continued. “I saw a drop dead gorgeous, intelligent, and captivating woman pleasuring herself to the sight of a woman bound to a bed while her partner … tickled her … mercilessly. Your arousal was so fucking palpable I could practically taste it. And believe me, I wanted to. I still do. I haven’t been able to stop thinking of you.”

Fuck. He saw. He knew. I felt my stomach do an olympian level backflip.

“You don’t … you don’t think it’s weird? What I was watching?”

He cleared his throat. “Sweetheart, I’m gonna guess I have at least a few years on you, probably more. And I’ve lived a life. I’ve met all kinds of people. I’ve learned that desire and intimacy take many different forms. Back home, I knew a girl like you. Well, she wasn’t like you, at all really.” Now he was the one struggling to find his words. He hesitated for a minute, then continued, “Years ago I met a girl, I liked her, we got along well for a while but life took us down separate paths. Anyway, this story isn’t about that. After a few weeks of knowing her, she shared with me that she loved being tickled, that it turned her on so much that she got off on it. And me? I’ll try almost anything once. I hadn’t heard of tickling as a form of kink before, but I was happy to oblige. She showed me some videos that she liked to give me an idea of what turned her on. I didn’t quite understand it at first, but she told me that for her, she loved feeling powerless in the face of such an overwhelming sensation. She loved being subjected to it without being able to fight it. It takes a great deal of trust to share something so personal with someone, and I was honored that she felt safe enough to share that part of herself with me.”

Once again, I was at a loss for words. I was also incredibly envious of this woman he spoke of, who unapologetically spoke up for what she wanted without shame or embarrassment. “Wow … and how was that? I mean, for you?”

That grin appeared again. “I loved it. I loved making her feel good, and knowing that what I was doing made her feel that way. I admit I have somewhat of a sadistic side to me when it comes to kink and pleasure, and it served me well in that role with her. I loved finding her weak spots, the spots that made her lose it, the spots that got her so wet I couldn’t distinguish her laughs from her moans…”

Speaking of getting wet, I didn’t think I could close my legs any tighter, but I still tried.

He continued on, “When I said that thing that day, about recreating that video with you, I admit I was mostly just trying to lighten the mood, you seemed so angry - rightfully so. But I admit, I haven’t thought about my experience with her for a long time, but seeing you that day reminded me how much I enjoyed tying her to my bed and tickling her until she couldn’t take anymore. How much it turned me on to do that to someone. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how much I would relish the opportunity to fulfill your desire for the same. If you’re willing, I would love nothing more than to tie you to my bed with all your sensitive spots exposed for my exploration….” His tone shifted suddenly, he sounded less reminiscent, less sentimental, hungrier.

“Charlotte, I’m not going to mince words with you. I know what I want. I want to tease, tickle, and taunt your beautiful body. I want you desperate. I want to hear those sexy little moans of yours take the form of my name. I want to hear you beg. And once I’ve finally decided you’ve had enough. I want to make you cum. Over and over and over. Would you like that, Charlotte?”

Fuck it. I swallowed hard, then nodded.

“Unh-uh,” he shook his head. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Yes, I would like that.”

He leaned in again, and this time, he put his hand on my thigh. The heat between my legs heightened at the contact.

“Not good enough sweetheart, I want to hear you tell me exactly what you want.”

Now that was a challenge. I’ve never admitted to my kink out loud before. I struggle even saying the word.

I took a deep breath. “I can’t.”

He gave me a puzzled expression.

“I can’t. I’ve never even said it out loud before. Never told anyone.”

“Seriously? No one. Not even a romantic partner?”

I shook my head. “It’s embarrassing. I’ve always been embarrassed about it. It’s weird. The sheer fact that someone other than myself now knows about it is freaking me out a little, to be honest.”

“Charlotte,” he gave me a sympathetic look, “there is nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s not weird at all. It’s hot.”

Another beat of silence passed between us before he continued, “Say it. Tell me what you want. Tell me what you fantasize about. I want to hear every last detail.”

I chugged the remainder of my wine, and opened my mouth before I could change my mind.

“I fantasize about … erm … being tied up with minimal to no clothing on, and … tickled on my most sensitive spots … I fantasize about my tickler teasing me about how turned on I am. I fantasize about begging and screaming for it to stop, just for my tickler to laugh in my face and mock me. I fantasize about my tickler periodically pleasuring me, just to revert back to tickling me when I least expect it. I fantasize about being tickled to the point that I am so desperate and horny I can’t even think. “

Reeling from my admission, I grilled the floor.

He grabbed my chin gently and turned my head to face him. That grin. “Tell me more about these so-called ‘sensitive spots,’ hm? I’d love to know where I might find them.”

I rolled my eyes. I was horny, not stupid.

“And find them, is exactly what you’ll have to do, because I’m certainly not telling you a damn thing.”

His grin broke out into a full on smile. “I’m going to really enjoy tickling that attitude out of you, you know.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, “yeah, good luck with that.”

That smile remained.

“You know …” he shifted on the couch to get even closer to me. “I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh.”

“Probably because you’re not very funny.” I joked.

And just like that, his arms were around my waist and I was suddenly hoisted over his shoulder.

“Where are we going?” I asked. I heard the door open.

“My bedroom. You clearly need a lesson in manners., and I need to hear more of that beautiful laugh.” He walked down the stairs swiftly, like carrying me had no effect on his balance.

Before I knew it, my back hit the mattress. “I’ll take this…” as he pulled off my cardigan.

I looked down at my cropped tank top and shorts. Without missing a beat, his hands were on my wrists, and then my arms were pinned above my head. He shifted so both wrists were in one hand. He moved his head down next to my ear, barely whispering. “Listen to me. If at any time you decide you do not want this, I want to hear you say the word ‘red.’ If you need a break, I want to hear you say ‘yellow.’ Do you understand?”

I nodded. Again, he shook his head. “Say it.”

“Red for stop, yellow for a break.”

He lifted his head and stared down at me in a way that I imagine a hunter looks at its prey. “And remember that, because the word ‘stop’ won’t get you anywhere darling.”

And then, his hand was on my stomach, a particularly weak spot of mine. His fingers lightly skittered along the right side of my stomach and side.

I bit my lip. I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him.

He raised his eyebrows, almost as if he understood the challenge.

He did.

He found the spot above my panty line, above the hip bone. He lightly skittered over it and that’s all it took.

“F-fuckkhahaha” I erupted into laughter. I felt his thumb dig in by the bone. “Aaah! Nononononoahahhahha”

“Hmm.. so is this all it takes?” He teased.

I was so fucking ticklish. I squirmed underneath him. He continued attacking that spot by my hip, switching between light skittering tickles and digging in. He made his way up my side, his hands under my shirt. I bucked again. “FUCKAHhahhahahHhahahahha”

He tsked and shook his head. “Such a filthy mouth on you.” He kept going up and down my sides getting dangerously closer to my underarms each time. I couldn’t help but try and squirm away, my underarms are one my worst spots.

He seemed to pick up on that. He slowly moved his fingers up my side, made his way up to my underarm, and laid his fingers to rest there, not moving them. “What’s the matter?” He teased.

I said nothing.

His grin turned sinister. His fingers lightly traced my underarm. I lost it instantly. “EEeEeeEeek! Oh my god no please not therehhahahahha!”

He upped the intensity, tickling my underarm with intention. I bucked and screamed. It was unbearable. “Fuckahahahha!!! Please I can’t fucking take ithahahah.”

“There’s that filthy mouth again. Clearly you still haven’t learned any manners.”

He got up and I took the time to catch my breath, but he was back on top of me within 30 seconds. He removed my tank top and then my shorts, leaving me in nothing but my panties. He grabbed my wrist and fastened it in a velcro cuff. Same with my other wrist, and then my ankles. I tugged on the restraints and I realized I wasn’t going anywhere. My nipples were hard at the revelation.

“Realizing just how fucked you are pretty girl?”

He gave me no time to answer. He started down by my hips again, this time moving toward the center below my navel.

“Mmmmfuck…hahahummm.” Admittedly, this spot was a huge turn on for me. It still tickled, but it also got me insanely wet. I continued to squirm to no avail.

“Find one of those sensitive spots, did I?”

I squealed. “Shuuhuutuuhhphahaha.”

“Look at you, such a pathetic, ticklish little mess…” he murmured, not letting up for a second.

And then, without warning, he had one hand at each of my underarms, tickling relentlessly. My underarms were easily one on my most ticklish spots, and with the restraints keeping me in place, I had minimal wiggle room.“Ohmygodnononono …please please please it tickles stop it!!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m hardly touching you..” He teased.

“Yesahahah you fuckingarehahahah!”

His fingers didn’t let up. He moved up and down my sides over and over, paying special attention to my underarms and hips periodically, while cooing occasional teases at me.

“Poor thing, so ticklish…”

“PLEASEhahaaahahhaplease I can’t fucking.. take ithahaha!”

“Liar, you’re taking it right now.”

He shifted down between my thighs, and started tickling my inner thighs, right beneath my panties.

“Fuhuhuuckkkhahahahha oh noononono”

“No, what, pretty girl? Use your words…”

“Ahahahhfuckyouahahah”

“An intriguing offer, to be sure, but I’m nowhere near done with you…”

He moved back up to the sensitive spot below my navel, tickling lightly but relentlessly. I could feel the dampness between my legs grow more intense as he continued.

“Fffuuhuhuckmmahahmm”

“Look at you, making such a mess over a little tickling. Pathetic.”

I knew he was right, but I couldn’t help myself, “Noonono I am nahahahat”

“No? Then how do you explain this, naughty girl?” He gestured down between my legs, not stopping the tickling for a second.

I looked down to see his thigh pressed firmly between my legs and realized …

Oh my god. I was humping his leg like a horny fucking dog.

I couldn’t help but feel a wave of embarrassment wash over me. “Fuck, I’m sorry”

He shook his head, and moved his hands back up to my underarms, leaning his head next to my ear as he restarted the onslaught of tickling there. His voice took a stern tone. “Don’t. Ever. Fucking. Apologize. Do you understand me? Not for that. You’re so fucking desperate, so fucking soaked. And I absolutely love it. Never apologize….”

I felt a strange mix of arousal and comfort. The way he walked the line of sadism and reassurance so effortlessly aroused me even more. Of course, he didn’t stop tickling the entire time he spoke, and at this point I was howling.

“Tell me you understand.”

“okokokokhahahaha”

“Not good enough.

“I underanahahhanandhaha”

“Tell me you love being tickled”

“Nononono I cahahahahantahaha”

“Say it, or I’ll keep torturing these pretty little underarms of yours….”

“Nonononopleaseahahah it’s so bahahahhaad!”

“And I’ll make it worse if you don’t listen. Tell me you love being tickled”

I was crumbling, I knew I wouldn’t be able to handle the tickling on my underarms much longer, but I stuck to my guns.

“NnnooOooooahahahhathatssomean ahhahaha”

“I’m going to get much meaner if you don’t tell me what I want to hear”

I clamped my mouth shut in defiance, doing my best to stifle my laughter.

“Fine, you asked for this.” He got up from the bed and left the room for a moment. He returned with a jar of coconut oil.

My eyes widened. “Fuck nononono please don’t. I’ll say it, I’ll say whatever you want.”

“Tsk tsk tsk,” he shook his head. “too late for that pretty girl.”

Despite my continued protests, he scooped some oil from the jar and applied it on my underarms, and then my stomach. Without missing a beat, he went straight back to tickling my underarms. The oil made the tickling 10x more torturous than it already had been.

“Fuhuhuuuhahahahck! Nonononoplease I cahahahaant taaahahahake this!”

“You know what I want to hear….” he taunted.

“Fuhuhuckkokokokok fine hahahaha I love itahahahah”

“Love what, exactly?”

“Hahahhafuckahahah-I love-I lohahahaove being tickledahahhaa”

And with that, he moved back down to the sensitive spot below my navel. The oil made me so much more sensitive.

“Good girl..” he praised. I felt a blush warm my cheeks.

“Now tell me that being tickled turns you on…” that sinister grin. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“C’monahahhahmmmmmnoooo”

His fingers continued on that goddamn sensitive area. His thigh was between my legs again. My pussy was on fire. I couldn’t help myself. I started grinding my pussy against his thigh, and he pressed it firmer against me as I did.

“So wet. So horny. So desperate. I bet you want to cum, huh?”

He was right, I did, more so than I ever had in my entire life. I whimpered, “Yes..mmmhmm please..”

“Tell me that being tickled turns you on. Admit it.”

In that moment, I truly broke. I had never been so desperate for release. I knew he had me. I’d admit to anything he wanted. Do anything he wanted.

“Fuhuhuhuhck okayaaahah. Being tickled turhuruns me onahahahha.”

“Thank me for tickling you.”

“Thahahaaank youuahha for tihihihickling meehaahah..”

“Beg me to keep going.”

“Whaaahahahat?! Noohahahahaohhohah”

“You want to cum, don’t you?”

“Ugh I fuhuhahhuhucking hahahahate youhahaha”

“That hurts my feelings … not very nice. I guess you’re just not going to cum today..”

“Goddammitahahahfine! Keehehehep goiihheheheheing.”

“Good girl.”

He kept one hand tickling below my navel, and another replaced his thigh between my legs. He pressed his palm hard against my clit. I grinded into his palm hard, over and over and over. It wasn’t enough to make me cum, but it felt amazing.

“Now … if I were to go upstairs and look for that vibrator of yours, where might I find it?”

“Top drawer of my nightstand.” I admitted.

He slowly backed away from the bed and left the room. He was back within 3 minutes, my vibrator in hand. He plugged it into the wall nearby and placed it between my legs, but didn’t turn it on. He just resumed tickling me all over my upper body.

“Fahahahck please ok ok ok please I caahahhaan’t take this anymoreahahaha…”

I watched as one hand moved from my side to the button on the vibrator, turning it on at the lowest setting.

- forcing me to say things while I’m being tickled (sorry, asking for more tickles, saying I love being tickled, thanking the ler for the tickles, etc.)

- being told I have to choose where they tickle me or they’ll choose for me

- silly little tickle games

- being told how ticklish I am and how they can’t believe I’m really this ticklish

- the ler playing dumb “why are you laughing so hard?” “I’m barely touching you?” “Sorry does this tickle?”

- being told how I can’t go anywhere and I have no choice but to just take their tickles and suffer

- the ler acknowledging when they find an obvious bad/death spot on me