Darky wrote: ↑Tue Oct 25, 2022 2:38 pm
Great part 2. Little fast…in a couple of sentences down from 1:55 to 0:10 minutes but good. It is a good story so far.
TheBlushingPrincess wrote: ↑Tue Oct 25, 2022 1:31 pm
I could just read this one line over and over until... well, you know. Of course, she loses, right? Right???
piece of impatience. let him tell you more
Glad you enjoyed it. For reference, when I write multi-part stories, each part tends to be around 800-1,200 words. Both of these sections are around 1,500. I try not to artificially bloat stories just for length. While it would be fun to put Amanda through an excruciating amount of tickling, I was worried that I didn't have the writing ability not to make the tickling seem boring or repetitive. I'd love to hear any ideas you have about a "long" story. Maybe not in this story since the climax is coming soon, but if you have an idea of a different story you might like to see, let me know!
I understand What you say. Maybe it was my hope for a longer story. I thought your parts were longer sometimes. And in my opinion you have the ability. Your story’s are never boring, That’s problem
Bailey shrugged. “That’s fine. You just won’t get your clothes back. And you can’t go home because I drove you here. So either you play Jackson in the nude, or you walk home.”
I looked at her, my mouth gaping. We were in the middle of suburban midwest. Home was five miles away on busy country roads. No way I could do that.
“Bailey, come on!”
She grinned at me. Somehow, without saying anything, she communicated through her smile that not only was she going to make me go through with it, but she knew I was enjoying it, too, though I would never admit it to her or myself.
“Bailey!” I hissed. I felt so exposed and so embarrassed. I was standing in the middle of the tennis court where anybody could see with no cover, nearly twenty boys who I went to school with and who knew me as the girls’ tennis captain. I had the fence behind me, but the chain-link fence and its holes made it almost useless as a means of hiding myself.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine. We’ll give you a towel if you lose, so you can at least cover yourself. But you’re playing Jackson in your birthday suit.”
I tried to give her my most menacing glare, but I could feel my control of the situation quickly falling apart. A towel was infinitely better than nothing at all, but the thought of putting myself in a position where I could extend my torment for a full hour more was terrifying.
Unfortunately, I didn’t think I had a choice.
“Fine. But I get to serve! And I need shoes!”
Bailey grinned. “Sure.”
I winced as I took my starting position. Crouched down and chest forward, I was putting everything on display. Most of the boys had found a way to position themselves to the edges around me, leaving J. My white tennis shoes felt terribly awkward, and it made me feel even more naked, drawing my attention to all the exposed skin I was showing.
I threw the ball up in the air and served, starting the game.
Jackson was very distracted, and I won the first and second point. 30-love
Of course, I wasn’t doing much better. Every swing, every rush to get to the ball made my tits swing or air brush across my pussy, making my breath catch. I found myself taking smaller steps to avoid spreading out my legs too much. Jackon took advantage of it, landing the ball into the corners. As I started to panic, I gave up on trying to protect my privacy, running and stretching as much as I could. I had to remind myself that he was a tennis captain, too. He was a good tennis player, too.
30-40.
I swallowed. Match point. Only one point away for Jackson to win.
Everyone was holding their breath. If I made the next point, we’d enter into a deuce until someone won two points in a row, dragging the game out.
My serve hit the net. I blinked, not even remembering having served. I blinked, shaking my head. Focus! If my serve hit the net one more time, that would be the match.
I threw the ball up in the air, and swung as hard as I could.
Before the racquet even hit the ball, I knew it would be a bad serve. The ball hit the net and fell to the ground.
"Game, Set, and Match!" Bailey yelled. The boys cheered, all running to congratulate their team captain.
Bailey walked towards me, holding a towel. “You deserve this.” She grinned, and I knew she was wondering what I was wondering—did I lose on purpose?
She wrapped the towel around my midsection, rolling it up at the top and bottom so it just barely covered my midsection. I felt myself breathe a little easier, but not by much. As snug as it was, a good tug from anyone could make it come apart.
She grabbed my arms, binding my wrists behind me. I whimpered again as the feeling of vulnerability returned.
Still holding my arms, she reached down and tugged my shoes off. I flinched as she pulled my socks off. Before I could protest, she wrapped them around my head and tied them together in a makeshift blindfold.
“Jackson, you live in the neighborhood right by the school, right? Let’s bring her there.”
“Wait—”
Bailey grabbed my arms and pushed me forward. I yelped as I caught my balance. We walked at a brisk pace which proved difficult considering the limited movement of my legs. I kept imagining people watching me, people I couldn’t see. Even with the towel, it was very clear I was completely naked underneath. I kept thinking I was hearing the engines of cars, like we were near the road, but I couldn’t be sure.
Without the use of my arms for balance, I found myself leaning into Bailey for stability.
We went from blacktop to sidewalk to blacktop again, all while my heart continued to race faster and faster. Without sight, I had no idea how far we had gone, how long it had been, or even where we were.
Finally, after what felt like eternity, we entered Jackson’s home. Through the socks I could see light coming from the kitchen. Jackson’s parents must have been gone since the girls and him simply marched me through the hallway, up the stairs, and into his room.
“Let’s tie her to the bed,” Harper said.
Without fanfare, they threw me on the bed, face-up. The zip tie around my wrists was cut, and then new ones were used to bind my arms to the bedposts. How many of those things did they have?
The four of them looked at me, and all I could think about was how exposed my armpits and feet were.
As if reading my mind, Jackson reached down and tickled my feet. I shrieked. The fact that it was a boy tickling me and not just the girls made it so much more intense. I tried to pull in my legs, but doing so only ruffled the towel that impeded my movement.
The others moved around me, tickling my armpits, toes, shoulders, and every inch of skin they could reach. Even though I could kind of see through the socks, the limited visibility made things worse, and I felt myself tense at the slightest movement around me.
With a whole hour to torture me and having nothing to bargain with, they started to experiment, testing out parts of my body, creeping their fingers down the towel. Somehow the pressure of them reaching under my towel and squeezing or tickling.
Bailey reached down and untucked my towel, exposing my bare tits. I yelped as the girls came down on the poor things, squeezing and pinching my sore nipples.
“Go on, Jackson. Give her boobs some love,” Melinda said.
Jackson, who had been holding back and just watching the girls, took a step forward and grabbed my right tit. His hands, much bigger and rougher than the girls, made me shudder.
“I want to make a deal,” Bailey said. I groaned.
“We’re going to unravel your towel and untie you. If you can keep still while we tickle you, you can keep the towel. If not…” She let her words hang.
She grabbed the towel and pulled it apart. I groaned. Having some cover had made some of the embarrassment of being naked go away, but now that it was suddenly taken away, the embarrassment had returned in full force.
My hands came free, and suddenly they were on top of me. I didn’t even try to keep my towel on. I shrieked and tried desperately to pull into a fetal position as the towel flew off. They continued to ravish my body for a few minutes before finally pulling away. I blushed, knowing I was fully naked—again—in front of my crush, not more than a few feet from him.
“We should probably tie her up again,” Melinda said. “Wouldn’t want her going anywhere.”
I shrieked as they grabbed my limbs, retying my arms and then pulling my legs wide in a spread-eagle position. I felt my pussy spread in front of their eyes. I felt a hand touch my pussy, squeezing the enlarged lips. I didn’t even try to stop the loud moan of pleasure that escaped my mouth. Crap, I felt like I was on fire.
“You know, this is Jackson’s reward for beating Amanda,” Bailey said. “I think we should give him some privacy.”
My head shot up. What? They couldn’t leave me here in my current state with a boy!
My brain wasn’t working coherently enough to form words. All I could feel was the panic growing in my chest.
“We’ll come back later for her,” Bailey said. “Much later. She’s yours for the time being, Jackson. Do whatever you want.”
The door closed with a slight *click,* and I felt a chill run through my spine.
I saw through the semipermeable cloth Jackson move to stand in front of me. I whimpered. Somehow, the fact that the girls were gone now made my nakedness and vulnerability seem even more acute. I could feel my face very red and hot under the socks that covered half of my face. I could see Jackson’s head move, and I imagined his eyes running up from the tips of my toes up my legs, my still-heaving stomach, to my chest, and then settling on my pussy. My legs, spread out as far as possible, provided absolutely no protection from his eyes. I whimpered, pulling against the zip ties with my limbs with no results. I was alone, completely vulnerable, with a boy looking over me.
“Are you okay?” Jackson asked.
His question took me by surprise. He had certainly been a willing participant helping the girls convince me to give up my towel. But he had known that since I was friends with the three of them, they would never let it go further than I was comfortable with, and matched their intensity. Now that it was just him and me, he had no guide and wanted to make sure he didn’t go too far.
“Y-yes,” I said. While the thought of being tickled and touched all over by my crush was terrifying, it was also exciting. “Like they said. ‘Do whatever you want.’”
He let that sink in for a second. I let that sink in for a second.
Whatever hesitancy he had before was gone. He clawed his way down me, digging his fingers and knuckles into my sides. I screamed and thrashed, my inability to move or cover myself maddening. Without the towel, he had a lot more access to a lot more skin, and could run down the entirety of my body with nothing in the way.
He took his time, exploring every part of my body methodically, as if testing each section like a scientist. Of course, that was the last thing on my mind as he moved from my sides to my inner legs. I could see his hands in my mind, creeping up the insides of my leg and
Up until this point, I had managed to keep my outbursts to just squeals and screams of laughter. But as he dug into my inner thigh, a whole slew of curse words flew from my mouth. Holy freak, that tickled! Jackson, noting that he had hit a secret sensitive spot, dug in even harder, My head felt like it was going to explode.
The zip tie around my right leg snapped, and it flailed upward. I felt it hit something, and heard Jackson grunt.
“S-sorry,” I said, nearly unable to speak.
“Hmmm….” Jackson said with a menacing tone. “I think you deserve to be punished for hitting me. I think I’ll have to focus my attention on your inner thigh for the rest of your time.” He placed his fingertips on my inner thigh again.
“P-please!” I sobbed. “I…I’ll do anything.”
A pause.
“Anything? I don’t see what you can offer, Amanda, considering you’re all tied up. I think I can ‘do whatever I want.’” He reached and tweaked a nipple, eliciting a moan from me.
My head swam with ideas. He was right. There was nothing I could offer him that he couldn’t just do.
As his fingers crept up my thigh, an awful idea filled my mind, and I panicked. “I’ll suck you!” I screamed in a panic. “I’ll suck your cock! Just don’t tickle me there!”
His hand paused, just resting on my thigh.
“Just to be clear,” he said. “You’re saying you’ll give me a blowjob if I don’t tickle your thigh?”
“Y-yes,” I sobbed. How had it gotten to this? A blowjob just to not be tickled? I just couldn’t bear the thought of more torment. The entire night had been one awful deal after another.
I felt Jackson crawl up beside me at the head of the bed. He undid my hand restraints from the corner, but then bound my wrists together behind my back. After untying my legs, he picked me up and set me down on the ground on my knees.
He pulled the socks off my head. I blinked away the spots from the sudden brightmess. I looked up at him, blushing again and being struck again by the power imbalance of the situation. Me, kneeling and bound, naked, in front of my crush who I hadn’t even mustered up the courage to talk to before this point.
He fished out his throbbing and very erect cock. He looked at me, as if waiting for me to say something. I realized that despite the deal I made, he wasn’t going to go further than I was comfortable with. When I said nothing, he grabbed my hair and pulled me in.
Without use of my hands, Jackson guided my mouth around his cock, starting slowly but steadily increasing in pace. He pulled out frequently to let me breathe, but he held a firm grip on my hair, as if worried that I would try to end it prematurely, but it was the furthest thing from my mind. Despite having orgasmed nearly a half-hour ago, my pussy was burning again, and everything felt wet. I heard him groan, and felt hot cum strike the back of my mouth and slide down my throat. He groaned again and pulled out.
I collapsed to the floor on my side, breathing hard and moaning softly. Every part of me ached. Sweat covered my skin, glistening like morning dew.
In the corner of my eye, I saw him look at his phone clock. “Looks like you still have another half-hour, Amanda,” he said.
I groaned. This was not how I expected my day to go.
“But…you know, I could accidentally lose my timer and just make this go on forever and ever.”
I trembled at the thought. “Please…anything but that.”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Jackson said.
I groaned. I was beginning to dread those words. What was he going to propose? Another blowjob? Something even more embarrassing?
He ignored me. “We’ll end your sentence now, but in return, every day for the next three months, we’re going to play a game of tennis. Every time you lose, I get to tie you up for an hour.”
I whimpered, realizing the hole that I had dug for myself was only getting bigger.
“Then, I’m going to strip you naked and tickle you until you scream,” he said. He placed a hand on my inner thigh, and I groaned, just the slightest touch making me convulse. “Do we have a deal?”
I thought your parts were longer sometimes. And in my opinion you have the ability. Your story’s are never boring, That’s problem 
instead of facing a possible 90 hour tickle torture.