****** The Rack by Night Owl ******
===============================================================================

The Rack


"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked Julie as I tightened the last knot
around her ankle.

"Y-yes, I'm OK," she answered nervously.

Julie was trying to impress me with her courage, but I knew she was having
second thoughts. It wasn't the restraints that bothered her. It was the thought
that I was going to subject her to a long, grueling tickling session. Perhaps I
should have taken her reluctance more seriously, but I had waited a long time
for this moment, and my mind was almost overwhelmed with anticipation. There
was no turning back now.

"Well... as long as you're sure, Hon."

I gave the knot one last tug, then gave myself a moment to drink in the sight
of her. It was absolutely intoxicating, the excitement I felt from knowing that
this woman was now relinquishing control to the mercy of a man that she had
only known a few months.

When I first met Julie at the office, I couldn't keep my eyes off her. At 5'
8," she had a classic 'barbie doll' figure - slender body, delicate arms, sexy
long legs and a tight, round ass. Her pretty face was complemented by long
golden hair that fell loosely over her shoulders and down her back. On that
day, she wore a black dress suit with the hem of her skirt cut no less than six
inches above her knees and a two inch slit up one side. She wore no hosiery of
any kind, she didn't have to with her naturally tanned complexion. A pair of
black high heals capped off the sexy, but professional look that drew long,
lusty stares from men as she walked by. My mind entertained thoughts of her
lying spread-eagled on my bed, squirming helplessly while I lightly ran my
fingertips up the insides of her legs and under that skirt...

Which brings us to the subject of my story.

Of all the forms of sexual play, my greatest passion has always been erotic
tickling. Even as a child, when sex was not a part of the picture, I fantasized
about tickling girls. Call it role awareness. I get a thrill from the
experience of power I wield, to make a woman scream and writhe and beg me to
stop, not to mention the ability to drive her mad with desire and then mad
again with the pleasure of her orgasms. For most S&M enthusiasts, pain is by
far the more common source of such tactile experiences. My method of torment is
more subtle, using light, tantalizing sensations, so intense that they require
the aid of restraints, sensations that confuse the mind by being at once
pleasurable and unbearable.

It wasn't long after we began dating that I brought up the subject with Julie.
Not surprisingly, her reaction was filled with a great deal of apprehension.
You see, Julie was deathly ticklish. Her skin was so sensitive that even a
light, playful touch on the right spot made her squirm away in discomfort. I
tried to explain to her that it was quite common to have that reaction at
first, and that as the body became accustomed to the sensations, the discomfort
could evolve into a unique and incredibly pleasurable experience. I continued
to promote the idea, and she grew quite curious and even intrigued, but not
quite enough to quell her initial fears. It took weeks of gentle persuasion
before Julie broke down and decided to give it a try.

I immediately began making preparations for our special encounter. The idea I
had in mind for Julie required a different form of restraint, something much
more provocative than simply tying her to the bed. I went to the hardware store
and purchased the materials I needed - several 2x4s, large bolts, and some
brass hooks. I picked a spot on my living room floor and began drilling holes
into the boards and fastening them together with the bolts. When I was
finished, I had built a rather crude-looking, but effective restraining rack.
The 2x4s formed a box, about 6 ft. square, with the hooks fastened in various
places to hold ropes, chains, leather straps, whatever I decided to bind her
with. The device looked menacing and out of place in my living room.

The following week I began teasing Julie to get her into the proper mood for
our encounter. I often called her on the phone when she was not alone, and told
her exactly what I would to do to her if I was afforded the opportunity, using
explicit mental images described in the most lurid, taunting detail. I could
sense the nervous excitement growing in her as I drew her deeper into my world.

Our evening started with a candlelit dinner and a bottle of wine at her
favorite restaurant. Julie looked incredibly attractive in her black spaghetti
strap dress. The sight of her made me feel excited and restless. I was eager to
take her home and indulge my fantasy, but I remained patient, allowing her time
to relax.

It was already late when we got back to my house. I took her hand, and led her
inside, noticing that she was trembling a bit in anticipation.

"Are you OK, sweetheart?"

Julie gave me a nervous smile and nodded. The fact that she was putting so much
trust in me only intensified my love for her. I gave her a gentle kiss to
reassure her.

The house was dark. I motioned her into the living room. A single candle on the
end table cast flickering shadows on the walls. Julie's eyes widened when she
first saw the rack sitting in the middle of the room.

She whispered, "What is THAT!"

"It's just a device I built to help restrain you, my dear." I looked at her
with a wicked grin.

The expression on her face was mixed with fear and intrigue.

"Now take off your dress, please."

Julie paused a minute, contemplating. Then she began to undress in front of me.
My excitement grew as she slowly pulled the thin straps off her bare shoulders,
one by one, and let the black dress slide off her gorgeous body.

"You won't be needing that bra tonight, Julie," I teased, "and remove those
panties, too."

Julie complied. She reached behind her back and unhooked her black strapless
bra. Her breasts were not very large, but they had the round youthful
appearance of a seventeen year old. She slid her panties down her legs and
stepped out of them. Now the only garment remaining was her pearl necklace. Her
beautiful almond skin almost glowed in the dim candlelight.

"Did you shave this morning, like I asked?"

"Yes."

It was a request I didn't need to make. Julie shaved her arms and legs daily.
She even removed the hair around her pubic area and crotch, claiming that it
enhanced the sexual stimulation there during our lovemaking. I also found it
more enjoyable, and easier when performing oral sex on her.

We kissed for several minutes, then I led Julie to the restraining rack and
motioned her to lie down inside it. Spread out beneath her was a thick, black
bearskin rug. I gently pulled her long, golden hair out of the way as she
leaned back on the rug. Julie began to relax and slip into the proper mood as
the soft fur made contact with her bare skin. I brought out some rope and
proceeded to tie her arms and legs the way I had planned. It was about this
time I sensed that Julie was starting to have second thoughts.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I asked her.

"Y-yes, I'm OK."

I pulled the last knot then sat back to admire my work.

Julie was lying on her back, her arms stretched out over her head and tied by
the wrists to the base of the rack at each corner. Her long, slender legs were
raised and spread wide apart like a 'v' with her ankles tied to the top
corners. I made sure the ropes were pulled tight enough to lift her bare ass
about an inch off the floor. Her lower body was now suspended while her back
rested comfortably against the soft rug. Julie was now in a very compromising
position, leaving her defenseless, while giving me complete access to the most
intimate parts of her body. I could sense her discomfort associated with the
sudden loss of freedom. Each pull of an ankle or wrist against the tight ropes,
reaffirmed my dominance over her. She had no choice but to wait until I
released her.

I took off my clothes while my captive damsel lay helplessly before me. By now
I was sporting a whopper of an erection. I then brought out the tools I would
use for our session - a long peacock feather, a fude or writing brush and a
long feather duster.

"Oh God!" I heard Julie whisper to herself.

"Try to relax," I said, "it's going to be a long, eventful evening and you're
going to need your strength."

I picked up the feather and contemplated where I should start first. I was
captivated by her beauty and helplessness, with her legs raised and spread
apart, her pussy, her asshole stretched open and displayed quite provocatively
before me. I found that whole area especially inviting and the absence of pubic
hair seemed to add to her vulnerability.

I elected to avoid that spot for now and concentrate on Julie's upper body. I
moved around and knelt down behind her head. Gently, I stroked her long blond
hair and let it fall between my legs and against my throbbing cock. I bent down
and gave her a long, deep kiss. She parted her lips willingly as I explored the
inside of her mouth with my tongue. I took a few moments to pamper her with
more kisses, then I playfully held the feather up in front of her face so that
she could get a good look at it. Julie's eyes widened at the sight of it, as
though truly realizing for the first time what was in store for her. She turned
her head away as I tickled her lips and nose and ears with gentle strokes. I
then placed the tip of the feather against her wrist and dragged it up the
inside of her bare arm. The touch was excruciatingly light. She tried to twist
her elbow away, rubbing it against the bearskin rug, which only seemed to
intensify the feeling. Julie began to panic as I slowly dragged the feather
toward her open underarm.

"P-please not there..." she begged.

I moved the feather over to her shoulder and Julie breathed a sigh of relief
when I lifted it off her skin. I gave her only a moment to relax, then touched
the feather tip to her wrist again, and let it travel along the entire length
of her arm. Julie held her breath as I ended it's journey with a long agonizing
stroke across the delicate curves of her armpit. I then gave her other arm the
same treatment.

Usually at this point, a woman would fill the room with fits of laughter, but
Julie's reactions were different. She made little noise, but responded with a
series of short gasps and tortured groans while turning her head back and forth
in agony as though each touch burned her like a hot poker. Her discomfort
didn't discourage me, but only fueled my excitement.

I continued to tickle the insides of her arms, switching back and forth, from
one to the other. Julie squirmed desperately but it was impossible to avoid the
feather with her captive limbs stretched and bound so tightly. She begged me to
relieve the itching that my tickling had caused. I ignored her pleas for relief
and ran the feather up and down the sides of her ribs. Her body shuddered when
I dragged the feather across her stomach and dipped the tip of it into her
shallow navel. My relentless tickling was driving her into a frenzy. She
continued to twist and turn in a desperate attempt to escape my intentions, but
I followed her movements effortlessly while keeping in constant contact with
her skin.

By now, Julie was so breathless she could barely speak. "P...please..." she
gasped, "can't... take this anymore..."

"I'm sorry Hon," I said, "but you're going to have to see this through."

I moved to her breasts next, swirling the feather around and around the base
before lightly teasing her nipples. Her almond skin was now covered in goose
flesh, her nipples rose from the swells of her breasts like two twin towers. I
circled the feather around the soft edges of her aereoli and then touched her
nipples again with light, tantalizing strokes. Julie rewarded me with long, hot
sigh. I could hear the sounds of the ropes rubbing together as she pulled on
her restraints. I continued to tease the rest of her upper body with the
feather, using a combination of long strokes and tickling motions, pausing
occasionally to let her regain her breath before continuing the torment. Not
one spot above her waist was spared.

Julie's skin was now super-sensitive, and slowly she became more and more
aroused from my insidious torture. I decided it was time for something
different and reached for the feather duster. It had a long handle with
feathers attached to the length of it, similar to a bottle brush. I lightly
brushed it across her bare breasts, tickling both of her nipples at the same
time. The sounds of Julie's hot breathes filled the room. I watched her as she
continued to pull against the restraints, knees flexing, ass and crotch swaying
back and forth freely, not realizing how much her reactions pleased me to no
end. I brushed the feather duster across her stomach and up the sides of her
body. Julie's helpless flesh was crawling now with so many feathers touching
her at once. She arched her back and groaned deeply.

"I think you're enjoying this a little TOO much," I teased.

I set the feather duster down and then began to tickle her in earnest with my
fingers. Julie moaned and wiggled uncontrollably as I let my fingertips roam
over her upper body, lingering in spots that gave me the best reaction. Finally
I leaned back and gave her a much deserved break.

It was time to give her lower body some attention. I knew that, once I found
new areas to tickle, her pleasure would revert back to the agonizing torment
she experienced earlier. I picked up the sable brush moved around behind her
open legs.

Slowly Julie's mind cleared, and when she saw me standing there with the brush,
she began to squirm again, but the power of the restraints only frustrated her,
compounded by the fact that parts of her body were completely out of her line
of sight. She had no idea where I was going to touch her next. The sensation
was maddening.

I held the brush up over Julie's captive feet so she could see it, then dragged
the soft bristles from the ball of her left foot to the heel. She was now
struck with a whole new degree of ticklishness. She gasped aloud, giving me the
desired result. I gave both her feet the full treatment, tickling her up and
down the arches, between the toes, over and over again, as she twisted
helplessly on the ropes. I paused every now and then for a minute, to let her
catch some air just enough so I could continue the sweet torture without
running the risk of her passing out. Julie was now in hysterics. She jerked her
knees and twisted her ankles, her pretty ass swayed back and forth seductively.

I then dragged the brush, very lightly down the back of her left leg, past the
delicate crease behind the knee to the smooth muscles of her thighs. Julie
tried to twist her leg away, but it was only a weak, half-hearted attempt. I
applied long tickling strokes to the backs of both legs several times and she
answered my actions with long, hot sighs and deep, sexy moans. I worked the
brush around the outside curves and crack of her quivering rear end. She had
the best ass I'd ever seen, perfectly round and smooth with a single, tiny mole
just under the right cheek. I continued to tickle every inch of her beautiful
tush, then very slowly, I let the brush sneak down into her crotch. Julie cried
out and tried to turn her pelvis away, but the ropes forced it to swing back
into the path of the brush. I could tell she was beginning to feel disoriented
from the sexual frustration I was putting her through, as though thousands of
nerve endings were flooding her mind with signals begging her for some kind of
climax.

I dragged the brush up her open crotch, taking time to let the soft bristles
tickle the opening to her asshole. My actions were slow and deliberate. I was
able to apply smooth strokes without any pubic hair to inhibit them. I dragged
the brush between the folds of her throbbing cleft. Julie shuddered, the
initial contact to her hungry pussy was like an electric shock after being
denied for so long. She moaned and lifted her body into an arch off the
bearskin rug. I repeated the stroke several times, while touching a different
area between her legs, stopping only when she appeared to be on the edge of an
orgasm.

By then she was overwhelmed with pleasure and completely unaware of what was
going on around her. Her mind was drained of all rational thought and replaced
with instincts associated with being deep in the throws of sexual ecstasy. She
desperately needed a release and, at this point, it took every ounce of self-
control to keep me from plunging my eager cock into her helpless body. With her
pussy lips spread wide, I continued to explore every inch of her sex with the
brush, occasionally running it over her aching clit, which was now peeking out
slightly from it's hood. She begged me repeatedly to finish her until I could
wait no longer.

I positioned my rock hard cock against her pussy, into which it slipped with
enthusiasm, and I began to move it around inside her with slow thrusts. Julie
enjoyed this immensely, it brought her just as much relief as it did pleasure.
I could feel the soft, wet flesh inside her vagina stretching and tightening
around my throbbing cock. I pushed my body forward until my thighs rested
against her smooth open crotch. She moaned rhythmically as I began pumping
harder and harder, our bodies rocking together vigorously, until we came
together in a brain blasting, orgasm that left us both unable to utter a sound.

Afterwards, Julie and I went to bed where I treated her to a long slow massage
to ease her tired limbs. I tickled her again and she giggled, "Save some for
the next time." Then we fell asleep.

The End.

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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