Caught in the Garage

"It hurts, Daddy."

"I know. I'm not letting you off altogether." He took the second rope that had tied an ankle and tied both my ankles to the foot board so they extended out into the air, perfect for tickling. He took the rope that had spread my knees apart and tied them tightly together.

"Are you going to punish me, Daddy?" Since I had turned eighteen I was now considered a grown woman and according to our family rules he could do a lot more things to me now than before, especially punish me in the nude.

"Yes, Muffin. You deserve it for sneaking a boy up here and getting naked with him."

"I know, Daddy. Tell me what you're going to do to me, please."

"I'm going to tickle you. That's what that boy was going to do, so I'll do it for him."

"Please don't tickle me, Daddy, I hate it." I didn't really want him to do it. "Please don't."

"Sorry. But wait a bit. I'll go talk to your mother and see what I can do to you here. And meanwhile I'm going to lock you in here and give you time to think." And he did. I heard the lock turn and his steps going down the stairs. I had almost an hour to ruminate on what he was going to do to me. I knew if he talked to Mummy I was screwed. She would want me punished and, as a true Dutch girl, family nudity meant nothing to her. So I knew he was going to tickle me while I was naked. Because she would think it natural.

I didn't mind being tickled. Of course it could be agonizing, but I enjoyed the power of surrender and being tied down and being helpless. I just wasn't sure about having my Dad tickle me bareass. According to the new rules now that I was eighteen I was considered a grown woman and he would be able to deal with me accordingly, and freely tickle my bare bosom and in between my legs. At least he had retied me so my legs weren't wide open anymore. Maybe he didn't think of me as a sex object and figured my whole was fair game. But it scared me. Finally I heard him on the stairs, he came in and locked the door behind him.

"What are you going to do to me, Daddy?" I asked, half knowing the answer.

"I talked to your mother and she wants you punished and we agreed tickling you is a fair punishment because that's what you say that boy was going to do to you."

"But Daddy, that doesn't make sense. What if he intended to have sex with me?"

"Well, I don't think your mother would want me to do that, but tickling you all over is evidently OK because that's within the rules now that you're officially a woman. That doesn't mean I necessarily want to do it, Muffin, but I will. And we've got plenty of time so I can do a thorough job on you." Then he added, gently: "So get ready."

"You're making me afraid, Daddy," I complained. And he was. I knew about fear from things like my whipping sessions. It's one of the worst parts of the experience and I felt it now before being tied down and tickled. I had learned that fear is something imaginary and is created by our mind so I always tried to see it and just accept it. I know you shouldn't fight fear or run away from it, just welcome it and be with the physical sensations associated with it. It comes and then it goes.

I felt it now as he started making some last minute preparation. My arms were at a forty-five degree angle so he untied my wrists and retied them close together to the rail at the head of the bed so my body was now in a straight line and pulled tight as he could get it, even so it hurt me a little. I knew he was serious about this and that made me more scared.

Some people enjoy the feeling of being scared, and to a certain extent I do. I enjoy being naked and helpless, especially like what was happening right now, when you're safe-scared, as in you are in a safe environment and know that you are not in any real danger. I think everybody reacts to fear in different ways and, of course, there are varying degrees depending on the intensity of the threat and the meaning you give to it.

My personal reaction to fear is one of acceptance, however, there are times when a kind of paralysis comes and those feelings are usually ones of not knowing what is going to happen. When a threat comes at me very suddenly I don't know what to do. I can feel my heart start to pound and tingly sensations go through me and I start to perspire. Now I could feel some of that. And sometimes I get a nervous feeling in my belly and I feel like I'm going to throw up and I can start to shake and the fear starts to build until I'm almost petrified. As he moved down to my bare feet and got ready to start I was really afraid and started to cry.

I didn't mind crying in front of my Dad. Honestly, for me, crying feels great. It's freeing. It's a great release of stress, or hurt, confusion, or fear. I always feel lighter, see things more clearly, and feel freer after crying. The feeling of the warm tears streaming down my face, neck, and onto my chest is so comforting because I know that with each tear that falls, a little more of the stress, sadness, etc., is leaving my body and my mind and heart.

There is nothing wrong with crying. There's a release of emotion that is good for you. It also evokes sympathy in other people. Crying is a universal sign that you're not OK. It may be that your heart and soul just need more love and affection. Love is as important as breathing air. It keeps us alive and makes life worth living. Dad came rushing up to me.

"Muffin, what's wrong?" As if he couldn't tell.

"I'm frightened, Daddy. Why are you doing this to me? Don't you love me anymore?"

"Of course I love you, Muffin, with all my heart. But part of love sometimes is doing things to someone for their own good, even if you don't really want to. And this is one of those times."

"I'm sorry, Daddy, I know I did wrong but please don't do this to me."

"It's all right, it will only last a few hours and you'll be better off for it. Now let's get started and you'll get through it." And then he began.

Despite my tears and my fear I was incredibly turned on by all this, and incredibly horny. It had been weeks since I had been laid. I lay there in wonder as he went to work on me, my naked body stretched tight. Just the thought of what he was going to do to me had my body on fire. Obviously he could see my nipples, hard as rocks, and my quickened breathing. If he had reached down between my legs, he could have felt the wet. I was completely helpless. He stood at my feet and took the bottle of baby oil the boy had started using on me and began massaging it into the bottoms of my feet.

He didn't know it but a tickling scene was the best kind of punishment he could have chosen for me, especially since I was nude. I love everything about tickling, and most of all when I'm completely naked. The combination of sex and total helplessness just sends me off. When it's most intense I laugh and scream desperately, pulling so hard at the restraints trying to escape that I hurt myself.

Being tied down takes me out of my head and forces me to experience everything that's happening to my body, both the tickling stuff and the sex stuff. The first few times I did it I was a little nervous but that quickly subsided once I was nude and bound and then the tickling started and there was nothing I could do to stop it, no way to get the hands off my body, no way to control how I was touched, no way to control how many times they made me cum.

I can attest that it really is torture. Whoever is doing it they just don't stop, no matter how you plead, and you can't stop laughing and squirming. Your stomach and sides start hurting, you're gasping for air, unable to breathe properly, and they just continue to keep you there and tickle away. They only stop until you catch your breath and it starts again. For me it was pure hell but I loved it. You fight to get loose even though you know it's useless. You lose all control, the sensations are overwhelming. It's all you know and all you can feel. You're overtaken by the most incredible feelings. You're completely unable to escape it either physically or mentally. You laugh till you cry. You're begging for mercy that you know won't come. And I cried all through it. Like legit cried. It was so much. So intense for so long. But it was also a beautiful and amazing experiences.

There was no safe word. I begged him continually to stop but he wouldn't. He had me and he used me. He finished rubbing the oil into my feet, set the bottle down, took up the feather the boy had been using, and went to work in earnest. It was nothing less than hellish. He worked the soles of both feet and my toes, underneath in the area where the toes and feet intersect. I laughed, I cried, I struggled, I begged for mercy but he kept at it. There was nothing I could do, my feet were securely bound. He kept at it and I began to lose control.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, Daddy, please." I cried but it did no good. I bet fifteen minutes went by and I was sure I was going to pee until finally he stopped and moved upward. He went back to the oil and spread it all the way up my inner thighs to my girlhood, by now so wet I was dripping onto the bed then he went back to the tickling. It was more of the same, fifteen or so minutes of complete and utter torture, more laughing, crying, struggling, begging for relief, knowing that none was going to come. And all the time my genitals lay open right before him. Next it was oiling the outside of my thighs and my bare bum. Then the tickling started again and at some point when he was doing my ass I knew I was going to cum for the first time.

"Daddy, wait, please,..., please Daddy, I'm going to..." and that was all I could get out and I felt the fire building down deep inside me. His hands were on my bare ass, squeezing my cheeks hard enough to hurt and then his fingers were back in front and down lower and he stroked my lips lightly with the feather, once, twice, thrice and he knew exactly what he was doing to me and then I closed my eyes tight and I was off to the races. And he just watched me in fascination and I pushed myself against the bed screwed my eyes shut and just rocked back and forth as hard as I could against and in seconds I got there.

I just came and came and came for what seemed like an hour but was only thirty seconds and he found his camera and started videoing me and I just came and came and came and it was so delicious and my tits felt like they were on fire and the tight spot above my cunt released and I just couldn't help it.

I kept squeezing up against the bed so hard and my whole world turned into bright colors and it was unbelievable and I was so happy I could have cried and it just seemed to go on and on forever but it was really only maybe two minutes and then finally, slowly, I started to come back down to earth again and I just sort of lay there twisting back and forth like you can't do if there is a boy in you, with my chest heaving, out of breath, my breasts all flush and sweat coming off me in the hot room and he just let me hang there in that weird space still breathing hard and finally I opened my eyes and after a little bit I came back down and I kind of nodded and I was ready for more.

"I came, Daddy," I said.

"Yes, Muffin, I know."

And that set a pattern for an hour and a half or more. He did my whole upper body, including my bosom. He'd pick a part somewhere above my pubic mound and oil it and then tickle it and I'd scream and holler and twist and turn and eventually cum again, over and over. He began with my underarms and it turned him on to find out how ticklish I am. Then he moved down to my bosom, rubbing my bare breasts, pulling on my erect nipples. I closed my eyes and started to moan softly.

My hips began to move involuntarily. I was ready to cum again. He left off my boobs and moved lower. He made a small pool of oil in my belly button and used it as a reservoir to oil my tummy and down over my hips. I felt the fire rising inside me and I knew I was going to cum still again. Then his hand was in between my legs and all over the inside of my thighs and then this time directly on my eager pink twat and then cum I did still more, my body just exploded and it was just as if I was with a boy my own age.

At some point he finished tickling me. I was indeed incredibly ticklish all over and he loved it. He would start and stop and start and stop, slowly torturing me for what seemed like an eternity. I don't know how many orgasms I had and I can't easily describe the torture of being tickled on and on, on and on for two hours, unable to escape. It was at once one of the most pleasurable and most awful experiences of my life.

He visited every part of me, tip to toe. My bare breasts seemed to fascinate him, so did the smoothness of my tummy and the softness of my ass. He couldn't resist exploring my genitals and the warm wet opening inside me that made me a girl. I experienced again how my body could provide both me and a male great pleasure whilst also putting me in agony. At one point he turned me over so he could examine my bare bottom. He poured oil on it and massaged it in lovingly. He patted it and finally turned me over onto my back again so he could enjoy seeing my girl parts.

Eventually it ended. By the time he stopped tickling me I was exhausted. Just limp. My wrists and ankles hurt from pulling on the ropes that held me down. I asked to be untied but he just left me there and turned on the TV and found the football game. My body just glowed with the feelings from having been tortured unmercifully and from having cum. After a while I fell asleep. At one point I woke up and he was not there but the game was still on.

Some time went by and he came back with some food but gave me none. After a while I dozed off. When I woke he was gone and the TV was off. He had untied one wrist so I was able to get free. I took a shower and went back to the house and up to my room. To this day Dad never said a thing about what had happened, but Mummy told me she watched the tapes from the security cameras and said I should be more careful in the future.

Anyway, now when Dad sees me naked it doesn't bother me. He's already had a pretty good look.