Just Say Their Names

Her blindfolded face was lost in a blonde blur of hair as her head thrashed around, but still she said nothing, uttering nothing but still more desperate laughter.

Leaving the wheels to spin at a modest rate, I picked up a pair of matched hairbrushes from the tray. Her inner thighs were rigid as wooden beams in her attempts to pull her way loose; I began to run the bristles lightly up and down her flawless skin.

"Arghhh! No more!   STOP!" she pleaded.

"Say the names, child!" I demanded again.

"Stop it!" was her only reply, barely comprehensible through her frenetic laughter.

I moved the brushes up her legs, onto her stomach; her body spasmed in response, but she still said nothing to cause me to stop her suffering. I moved my attentions back down her legs, began teasing her toes.

I smiled as her feet squirmed and jerked within their bonds. She could certainly not escape or pull loose, but there was a lot of, quite literally, wiggle room.

I'd planned for that.

I stopped all the tickling and removed her blindfold.

"This much, girl, you should be able to see," I said softly.

Moving to her feet, I tied a length of stout thread around the big toe of her right foot. Her eyes grew wide as I produced a child's balloon the size of a large watermelon, taut with helium, struggling to escape upwards. I tied it to the thread, holding the taut, brightly-colored orb above her breast as I did so to get the right length.

Already dangling from the balloon was a foot-long piece of soft, stretchy elastic terminating in a firm but gentle clip.

Fastening the clip carefully onto her now-swollen and protruding nipple, I simply released the balloon. It shot upwards, coming to a sudden halt a forearm's length almost directly above her breast. It bounced up and down several times on the rubber band before beginning to sway from side to side, producing a constant tease to her nipple. More importantly for my purposes, the balloon also would inflict a whole series of unpredictable tugging, stimulating sensations every time it moved.

And, of course, it would move every time she moved her foot.

And she could not avoid movement whenever I tickled her...

In the flickering candlelight, I could see her eyes filling with dread as she came to understand the diabolical implication of my arrangements.

Swiftly, I repeated the process on her left side. Examining the setup, I adjusted the threads, tightened one up, then smiled down at her.

"Now, unless you have changed your mind, girl...?" I said, holding up the blindfold in front of her.

"Never!" she exclaimed, her chin again coming up in defiance.

"As you please."

I refastened the blindfold.

I waited this time, allowing the tension to build up within her, the fear of the unknown.

I looked at the tray, selected a long, soft feather. The girl's naked body lay exposed before me, her breasts heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her head moved cautiously from side to side, as if trying to hear me.

Carefully reaching around the balloons and their tethers, I brushed the feather tip around her navel, so lightly that she would barely be able to feel it. In automatic response to even that minimal sensation, she sucked in her tummy.

I followed it down with the feather, twirling it around her navel.

She had no doubt now. I could see her biting her lower lip in an effort to fight off the feeling.

How futile.

I turned on the feather wheels again, smiled at her cries. I watched her flesh ripple as her nude body shook on the frame.

My next selection from the tool tray was a soft electric toothbrush I turned it on and began playing with the soft skin over her stomach. Her cries redoubled; her slim body bounced up and down in her desperation.

"Stop it! No!

"We haven't event started yet, traitor. Confess! Spare yourself!"

I moved the softly buzzing brush down from her navel, along the creases where thighs met stomach, then moved it to rest, very lightly, on her clitoris.

I had thought she was already frantic. I had had no idea.

She bounced, she screamed, she twisted, writhed under its soft tickling strokes.

From time to time, I deliberately held the vibrating brush against the balloons. The loud buzz it made was almost drowned out by her screams filling the room.

I ran it up and down her labia, returning quickly each time to her pearl. At the same time, I sped up the feather wheels, sending hundreds of feather touches each second across the length and breadth of her soles.

Her cries had become continuous, barely human in their tone.

I stopped, for I needed her conscious. I fetched a goblet of thin wine, held up her head, allowed her to sip.

Lying there panting and gasping, she hadn't even the grace to thank me.

I gave her a minute to catch her breath, brushed blonde hair off her face. Tears were leaking out from under the blindfold.

Keeping my voice as gentle, as friendly as I could make it, I again demanded, "Tell me their names, girl. Help me. Let me stop this. Just say their names."

She took a deep breath before again raising her chin, shaking her head.

Without waiting, I spun up the feather wheels to their maximum speed and began running a stiff feather up and down her inner thighs.

She shrieked as the new sensations hit her. The muscles in her arms and legs fought desperately against the straps holding them. Her bum bounced off the leather pad behind her, again and again. Her cries filled the room. Her feet...

Her feet twisted and jerked, thrashing uncontrollably from side to side in her effort to escape.

As her feet shook with her wild laughter, the threads from her toes yanked and pulled at the balloons above her full breasts. The helium-filled spheres bounced and flailed above her body, the elastic bands pulling, twisting and tugging on the clamps clutching her engorged nipples.

I dropped the feather back on the tray and instead dug my fingers into her ribs. The sound of the feather wheel motors continued as I mercilessly tickled her.

"Nooo!" she screeched.

She thrashed under my hands. She shuddered. Sweat beaded on her forehead and between her breasts. The rock-solid frame actually groaned a little as she pulled on it.

"Stop it!"

Heedless of her frenzied pleas, my remorseless fingers roved up and down her torso, prodding and tormenting her as the balloons heightened her arousal.

I dug my fingers into her armpits.

Her ribs.

Her stomach.

Her knees.

Her toes.

Back to her armpits.

She shrieked, twisted uncontrollably in her straps. The balloons flew in all directions, bobbing up and down as they did. Her soft brown nipples were pulled in every direction.

"Talk!" I commanded.

She shook her head.

Speeding up the feather wheels, I picked up a soft toothbrush in one hand and a stiff hairbrush in the other. I began to run them up and down her flanks - one side, the other side, together.

Her back actually lifted off its pad underneath in her efforts to escape.

The balloons above her continued to bounce, amplifying her stimulation.

"Speak, woman!" I demanded.

Panting but proud, she shook her head in defiance.

Walking to one corner of the room, I brought out a third heavy stand, this one holding a wand vibrator. Moving swiftly, not wishing to give her time to recover, I carried it to between her firm thighs, set it down. Its solid weight made a dull thud on the wooden floor. She turned her blindfolded head at the sound, trying to guess what torture was next.

I noted in passing that sweet juices were now oozing freely from between her lower lips, clear evidence of her arousal.

Excellent.

I adjusted the wand so that its bulbous head was pressed firmly against her sex.

She jerked at the feeling of cool plastic on her most female flesh. I pushed it forward, resting solidly against her most intimate, most sensitive place.

"Tell me!" I said. "Say their names. Those others are nothing, just silly people. You are real. Spare yourself. Spare your aged sire, even now listening to your shrieks."

"Never!"

"Child..." I began, then, "No, hardly a child any more, are you? Not with these." I thumbed the taut threads linking her nipples to her toes, watched as the balloons swayed and lurched above her bosom, further tormenting and stimulating her already overloaded system.

"No! I won't!"

Such determination, I thought. Such courage.

"What are those fools to you?" I asked, as gently as I could. "Just say their names. Tell me. They don't care anything for you. They are not here suffering for you, are they?"

Her reply was unprintable.

I set the wand to run on a random program. It hummed very gently for a moment. I watched her beautiful body so completely exposed to my gaze, waited. She suddenly hissed as the wand kicked in very hard. As quickly as it had started, it dropped down to a mere buzz again, then surged again briefly.

More unpredictable stimulation...

She clenched her jaw as its humming head stoked her arousal. I could see her expression change, become softer, more pleasant, but I knew she would fight the embarrassment of cumming in front of me. Equally, I knew, given more time, she would crave its release with her entire soul.

Useful as her sexual excitement was, I knew however that, to make it useful to me, I needed to achieve that balance.

I picked up a feather duster from the tray. This was no time for subtlety - I swept, twirled, flicked, danced it all over her body, starting with her armpits but swishing it unpredictably over her form from head to foot.

"No! No-no-no!" Her squirming feet set the balloons bouncing and her cries trailed off into gasps.

She couldn't however stop herself from moving. Especially not her feet.

The balloons kept bobbing and jerking, pulling on her nipples. The feather wheels ran hundreds of feather-touches over her soft feet.

I could tell she was close to orgasm. That would of course defeat the whole purpose of this and, while continuing to sweep the duster over her body, I edged the wand's stand backwards with one foot, away from her, just a hair. The wand's head was now just barely touching her sex, teasing and arousing without offering release or fulfilment.

"Stop, oh, please stop!" she yelled, writhing on her iron frame.

"Tell me their names," I demanded. "Say their names." Using one foot, I began rocking the wand on and off her pussy while at the same time lightly scraping the hairbrush in an armpit.

Convulsing, she screamed. "No! You'll never get me to..."

"Just say their names," I said softly, switching the brush to the hollow under her other arm. "Say their names and this will all stop."

"No!"

With my free hand, I spun the spinning feather wheels up to their highest speed. Her body went totally rigid.

"Tell me!" I commanded.

"All right! I give up!" she cried. "Just stop!"

"Say their names," I commanded.

"Yes!" she screamed. "Just stop! Please!"

"Say their names, girl!"

"THEIR NAMES!" she shrieked. "THEIR NAMES!"

Her safe-word uttered, I instantly stopped tickling her. While one hand fumbled to release the straps securing her arms, I used the other to kill the feather wheels. One of my feet hauled the wand stand towards us, pulling its pulsing head hard against her sex.

That was all it took. In an instant, she climaxed with a roar.

Her body twisted and heaved with the force of it. Her arms reached blindly up for me in her lust.

I thumbed off her blindfold, leaned down, took her lips in a deep, deep kiss. Her head came up to meet mine, her tongue thrashing in my mouth. Her hands flipped off the nipple clips, her arms wrapped around my neck. The balloons floated up to the ceiling.

I was, needless to say, already naked and hard as a hammer. I pulled out of her arms, stepped away and swiftly moved to between her legs. As I passed, I freed her ankles, snapped the threads on her toes. In a hurry, I shoved the wand stand out of the way and ignored it as it fell, still buzzing, to the floor.

I felt her hand close on my hardness, pulling me in towards her. In a second, she had guided me home and I sank at my full length into her heat. Just entering launched her into her second orgasm.

I seized her hips, felt my balls brushing against her smooth thighs.

Her body bucked beneath mine with the ecstasy of her orgasm. I drove into her again and again, the impacts causing ripples to run up and down the soft flesh of her body.

Her legs came up around my waist, locked behind me, pulled me in against her.

I felt a heat growing in my cock, a twisting behind my sack. I lunged forward against her and, with a burst of glory, my own orgasm hit.

It seemed endless, a boundless plain of ecstasy. Her heels dug into my back, pulling me in even harder towards her.

It was a long time ending. When it finally faded, I sagged down on top of her. We rested that way for a timeless stretch before she finally spoke.

"Jeez, Greg," she panted from under me. "When you set up a scene, lover - I mean, damn it, you almost had me believing this was real! I wasn't going to betray the revolution, no matter what you did to me!"

Her arms hugged me, hard, then harder still as an aftershock from her last orgasm ran through her.

I could feel her muscles clench on my cock inside her.

"I love you, Pepper," I whispered into her ear.

"And you, Greg." Simple words, but my heart soared at hearing them.

Eventually, softening, I withdrew, helped her to her feet. She gave me another hug and blew out the guttering candles before pulling open the heavy curtains covering the floor-to-ceiling windows and stepping forward to stand in front of them. Her sweet figure was exquisitely silhouetted by the bright lights of the city below.

I stepped in behind her, wrapped my arms around her waist. She leaned back against me, soft and warm in the darkness. I felt her hand come up to caress my head.

"How long did I hold out this time?" she asked.

I turned my head, looked into the next room, glanced at the clock on the wall there. "About 47 minutes, I think."

"Damn!" she said bitterly. "It felt like a couple of hours. I was sure I had a new record."

"Next time, Pepper. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. You're a lot of fun, you know."

"You, too, Greg. Did you enjoy yourself?"

I slid one hand up, cupped a breast. "Oh, yes. And next time..."

I paused.

She turned her head to look over her shoulder at me.

"'Next time?' What do you have in mind?"

' . . . '

I hope you enjoyed yourself.

Votes, comments - and soft, tingling touches in the dark - are always welcome.