Tickle Torture Pt. 02

*This story does require reading Part 1 if you want to get the full context. Or don't. It's fun either way*

They spun me around onto my front. I felt someone sit on me so I couldn't move. I thrashed and squealed as they tickled my cheeks, my butt jiggling from the treatment. The boys quickly moved up to my sides, exploiting the better angle on my ribs and returning to my super sensitive area right underneath my armpit. They weren't even trying to use the guise of "tickling" anymore--they were just touching every part of me they could. I groaned and heaved, unable to breathe.

My hands broke free from their makeshift T-shirt bounds, and they flailed backwards, trying to free myself, but the awkward angle made it impossible.

I hit something, though not hard. I heard Rashelle squeak, a little surprised. She grabbed my hands, pulling them back gently so I couldn't move. "Well, this won't do. Boys? Can you grab something to tie her up with? I think we need to restrain her so she doesn't stop her tickling punishment."

I groaned. My face fell into the carpet as I dissolved into whimpers. Everything below my waist ached, and the pressure put on my still-sensitive pussy and weak legs felt oddly stimulating.

Rashelle sat on me, holding my arms down with one hand and stroking the skin of my butt with the other while the boys disappeared in search of something to tie me up with. "I'm glad you admitted you're enjoying this, Izzie. It opens up so many possibilities."

Not able to do anything else, I groaned again. Crap, this was turning me on so much. Exhausted from my orgasm, torn down by my friends' relentless assault, and ashamed by the thrill growing inside me, there was nothing I could do to resist. And Rashelle knew that.

The boys returned, holding some rope. They picked me up and carried me underneath a light fixture. Paul set a chair beside me so he could stand on it to tie me up properly. His crotch was right by my face, and I could see the huge boner in his pants.

Once I was secure, they stepped back and looked at me. I felt myself blush red. Despite the past half hour of being touched and prodded and tickled by them all over my naked body, the fact that I was now standing in the middle of the room, arms outstretched, nearly on my tiptoes, armpits and legs completely vulnerable, and free access to everything else, I felt a new sense of vulnerability embarrassment. When they were tickling me, they could only reach either my front or my back depending on my position, but now they could reach everywhere at any time. I bit my lip. What were they going to do next? The thought in my mind was a strange mixture of excitement and terror.

"I've got an idea," Rashelle said. She whispered something to the boys. They giggled to themselves.

"W-what?" I asked.

Rashelle grinned. "You'll see."

The three of them disappeared behind me. I squirmed, anxiety rising in my chest. I started to breathe hard, my mind going wild with ideas of what they were going to do to me.

They weren't gone for long. They each put something on the table, but then stood between me and the table so I couldn't see anything. Again, with them looking at me in my current state, I felt myself squirm.

"Here's how this is going to work," Rashelle said. "We've each chosen an item. We're going to tickle you with each item for one minute."

I groaned. I wasn't sure how much more I could take.

Rashelle grinned at my reaction. "You can tell us to stop tickling you with that item at any time at the price of ten spankings from that person. Understand?"

I looked at her, unsure of how I was supposed to respond. "Umm...yes?"

Rashelle turned to her boyfriend. "Leon? Do you want to start?"

He reached behind him and grabbed something black, brown, and long. I recognized it as a paintbrush from my painting set.

"Wait--"

"Actually, Leon, before you start, let's get Izzie a proper blindfold. We'll see if she can guess the items."

I didn't even object as they procured a bandana and wrapped it around my eyes. As my vision disappeared, I felt my heart rate increase and my breathing grow ragged. Someone touched my side tenderly, and I gasped at the unexpected touch. Not being able to see anything was going to make this so much worse.

A long pause. I squirmed, the anticipation was maddening. When was he--

The bristles of the brush ran across my stomach. I yelped, a burst of laughter escaping my lips. Leon--or whoever it was--dragged the brush down my leg. I shuddered, biting my lips. It felt like mice skittering down my skin. It was driving me crazy, but I held strong. No way was I going to give in.

They grabbed my foot by the shin and pulled it up. I barely had time to register what he was doing until--

"Stop!" I screamed as the brush dragged along my sole. "Stop!"

Leon chuckled, finishing his drag across my foot and then stepping away. "That's ten."

I groaned. I couldn't bear the thought of more. This was real tickle torture.

"My turn," Paul said. Unlike Leon, I didn't know what Paul had chosen, and I could feel myself tense in anticipation. My boyfriend would know how to torment me more than Leon had.

Something soft brushed my skin, like a thousand soft pricks. Lightly, at first, and then the sensation grew stronger. If the paintbrush had been mice, then this was like centipedes, thousands of feet crawling all over me. A duster! I squealed and pulled back, but Paul simply moved in, running the duster up and down my legs and on my chest. At first it wasn't too bad, but as he continued to run it up and down, I felt myself shuddering at the touch as it slowly became unbearable. I wasn't laughing so much as gasping for breath.

I was breathing heavily, but I was pretty sure I could make it. The duster was ticklish, yes, but it didn't have the same magnitude as fingers or the brush.

For a moment, the duster moved away. I held my breath. Was that it? Did I make a minute? I opened my mouth to ask.

The duster slid between my legs. My feet, already on tiptoes, could do nothing to stop the onslaught of fibers that rubbed my pussy. My pussy felt like it was going to explode, regardless of how short it had been since my last orgasm. "Stop! Stop!"

He pulled away, leaving me gasping for breath and shaking. "You okay?" He asked. He reached out and squeezed a breast, eliciting a soft moan from me. I leaned in, feeling a slight bit of relief from his moment of tenderness.

"Y-yeah," was all I could say. It was a testament to their different personalities. Leon had chosen something straightforward but effective, while Paul had chosen something that was light and yet completely violating at the same time.

And then there was Rashelle. "Really looking forward to this," she said. I held back a curse. What awful thing did my best friend have in store for me?

I tensed as she placed something on my armpit, that same magical spot Rashelle had discovered that had arguably led to my position I was in at the moment. It felt bristly, like the brush, but harder somehow. What--

She turned it on.

I lasted maybe two seconds as the electric toothbrush buzzed on my skin. "Stop!" I screamed.

Rashelle didn't stop, instead moving the toothbrush down my side, chest, and legs, and crotch, all while I screamed for mercy, of which she gave none. My tits bounced with abandon, and my crotch and butt were clenched tightly.

Finally, after what felt like ten minutes but was probably no more than two, she turned it off.

I was covered in sweat and my hair was an absolute mess. Tears of laughter streaked my face, absorbed by the blindfold.

*Smack*

I squealed, the sudden pain in my rear taking me by surprise. The three of them took turns, smacking my poor bottom in such a way that there was no pause between strikes. Sometimes it was a quick smack, while other times they took a quick squeeze of my butt before moving back. With the first few smacks they experimented, trying different angles of strikes or parts of my butt. I couldn't tell which smacks belonged to who, but some were going for the loudest smacks, while others were simply trying to hit the most area, with the full palm hitting my butt cheeks.

With each strike, I could feel my face redden in shame not just from my physical state of nudity and restraint, but in the excitement I felt with each smack.

About halfway through--though I had long since lost count--hands started to crawl up and down my sides, and I exploded into laughter. My mind split with the assault on my butt, I had no energy or brainpower to resist laughing as whoever dug into my sides.

"And that's thirty," Rashelle said with one final smack. Hands fumbled with my blindfold, and I blinked as my eyes adjusted to the light. The three of them were looking at me, and I caught Paul's eyes looking me up and down.

I sniffled and groaned as my poor body finally had a moment to take stock of itself. My lungs were throbbing from all the laughter, and I could feel that butt was very red, raw, and sore. I wouldn't be able to sit properly for days.

"You know, I think we should let her stay up there for a few hours," Rashelle said.

"Wait..." I muttered. My throat was suddenly very dry.

"Who knows?" Rashelle asked, reaching forward and pinching my pussy lips. I groaned, pulling my legs back and in. I could feel my crotch burn again from her touch.

Rashelle grinned. "We might find some... other things we can do with her tonight."