Tickle Torture Stories Novels & Stories

Sif was clearly determined to humiliate Vicky. Even though Vicky did not move, she remained nonchalant. "It's fine if you don't do it yourself. I have all the time I need… but I wonder how many rounds of torture would your father survive?" Then, turning to one of her bodyguards, she asked, "Jimmy, is it true what they say, that the Martial Alliance are really good when it comes to torture? Tearing off the nails is apparently basic… They'd pour wine down eye sockets and flay their victims… Oh, the horror!"

That was when I saw her, spread naked on her bed with one hand pinching her tit, while the other was thrusting the dildo in and out of her pussy. ‎Ever since that day, I hadn't been able to stop thinking about her after what I witnessed. Since then, I had always loved going to visit Juliet at her mom's, not just to see Juliet, but also to catch a glimpse of her mom and wonder how her cunt would feel around my cock. ‎From the way she was moaning that day, and thrusting that big, fat dildo in and out of her pussy, I knew she was having sexual problems. ‎Tonight, I was invited by Juliet to come spend the Thanksgiving night at her place. After the Thanksgiving dinner, we all retired to bed.

Torture. Back to the stream. I arch, cut falling open completely, breasts spilling free. “Who wants to see me come for you?” I purr, grabbing the toy from the nightstand, which I hadn't realised he had taken back. I drag it along my slit, teasing, then push it inside with a gasp. The vibration kicks on low when I hit the button. BigDaddy69: $25 – scream for me DarkHorseX: $30 – use both holes

He jumped at her touch, and she pulled at his pants. Suddenly, in a swift gesture, he took off her tshirt and sweater. She shook herself out her bra, and he leaned down to lick the puckering pink nipple. She was flooded with warmth and could feel herself getting wet. She’d been saving herself for a special occasion and a special man, but her body screamed instead, now, now, now. His lips were circling her nipples, while his leg spread her thighs wide so that she could ride against him. She rubbed herself against his leg, grinding against him, using the desk as leverage to find a place she wanted to reach, if only, if only….She wanted to touch him. She reached out to feel his cock and they bo

I admitted. His breath was deeper now. And I found myself speaking up. I told him about the dream where my step uncle pinned me against the wall of my childhood home, my lips parted, wrists tied. I told him how he whispered filthy things in my ear while his fingers slid between my thighs. I told him how I begged. How I cried out. How I woke trembling and wet. With every word, my body remembered. The heat. The ache. He didn't speak. But I felt him listening. When I stopped, I was breathless.

Every time our lips would part away, I would curse because I can’t hold her. “Remove the belt on my hands, Erica. You’re torturing me.” I said breathily. Instead of answering, she dropped her lips on my white polo and using her teeth and tongue, she removed its buttons until I was exposed. She sucked my nipple as she stroked me, and sometimes would try to force my cock on her entrance, which made me more tortured. I watched her worship my body, her tongue has rolled down in my every corner, and even my pubic hair, she didn’t let it pass. I was breathing heavily, almost running out of air… and it got worsen when her tongue touched my cock’s tip!

My lower abdomen tightened into a knot, as I could feel the passion rising within my body. “Tell me, what do you want?” He inquired, whispering into my ears. My hands gripped the walls, but I couldn’t get a good hold of them. I tilted my head to the side, releasing all of my body towards him. “Just…less… torture” I managed to say, pleading, unable to compose a full sentence amiss pleasure. He smiled. “Do you want me to stop?” Stop. I’m sure he knew the answer to that question. I wanted him. With every fiber in me.

He walked me into the cabin and sat me down on what appeared to be the only piece of furniture in the place. “Home, sweet home,” he said, producing more zip ties from his pocket. “Now, let’s get you tucked in and I’ll tell you a bedtime story.” He bound my ankles to the chair’s legs and each of my wrists to its arms, before yanking the duct tape covering my mouth. Hair and skin were ripped from my face, and I winced involuntarily from the stinging pain. “Oh, good. You’re waking up. This is even better,” he said excitedly. “Now, you can tell me a story. My favorite is the one about Cutter’s magic book. You know that one, don’t you?”

He tackled me to the floor, straddling my waist, and then tortured me with his fingers. "Please, Jace, stop!" I managed to plead amidst my laughter. But he didn't listen, his fingers dancing across my skin, finding their way to my armpits, sides, neck, and belly. A devilish smirk appeared on his face, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I thought you said you aren’t ticklish!" He exclaimed, his fingers relentlessly tickling every sensitive spot they could find. Laughter erupted from deep within me, my body wriggling beneath him as I desperately tried to escape his playful torment.

She was already tired of this world, and she wanted to die if it would bring her even a sliver of serenity. Aside from the torturing, Draken and some of his guards, whom he selected, sexually harassed her. Draken clearly enjoyed inflicting pain on her, but he still added his sadistic needs to the torture process, and sometimes, while she was screaming for her life, she would feel his hands slipping through her ripped cotton clothes. Then he would tweak her nipples so hard that her yell became even louder. It was terrible. "Arrange her. We need to take some pictures." His hoarse voice brought Brielle from her wandering thoughts.