Great hairjob story

I finally made up my mind to go through with it. For years, I had fantasized and was curious what it would actually be like. I had these curiosities since childhood and they eventually developed into fetishes. However, sometimes I would step away from myself and wonder “Why on earth do I so desperately want to be Tickle Tortured?”.

By surfing the Internet, I learned of the BDSM scene from the privacy of my own den. Eventually, I got the nerve to contact a Dominatrix who operated within reasonable driving distance from me. I exchanged information with her and followed instructions to make an appointment only when I was comfortably ready to do so. The day came and I made arrangements to visit her.

Arriving at the designated place, I walked up the steps to the front door. Mistress Beth carefully opened the door as she kept most of herself out of view to the outside. I was greeted with warm smile and a compliment on my punctuality and was granted permission to enter.

Ms Beth led me to a sitting room where I was free to relax and discuss my interests and the session in more detail with her. She was attired based on my previous correspondences. It was slightly beyond acceptable for an office setting. She was wearing a white silk blouse, a black skirt, nylon stockings and pumps. She sat directly across from me with her legs crossed. Her skirt had a long slit that assisted in showing off her legs. She was reviewing the questionnaire I previously filled out online. My butterflies were still there, however just seeing her sitting in that attire was quite erotic and tickled the fancy of my other fetishes.

“So tell me briefly about your interest in being tickled?” was her most pointed question. Since she could tell I was nervous and realized this was my first time to ever be subjected to it. Ms Beth made it a point to re-assure me that she is very experienced and will not to go beyond my limits, although she may push those limits to the extreme. She was very professional and demonstrated a sincere pleasantness and eventually my nerves settled down. She continued to inquire about my fantasies and fetishes in some detail.

She smiled coyly when I told her how beautiful her long red hair was.

It was soon time for part 1 of the session. I was led to a well-lit room that had several long candles burning for extra ambiance and fragrance. A large bed sat in the center of the room. There were large mirrors hanging on all four walls. I was instructed to strip and lie on my back on the bed. She left the room to change, and she said that as soon as she got back my session would begin!

After a few minutes, I heard the clicking of her heels approaching. Ms Beth must have switched on a stereo in the dungeon. I didn’t recognize the music. To put it simply, it sounded kind of creepy. As she opened the door, Mistress Beth said, “Let’s kill these lights!” She flipped a switch and the room went dark. Only the candlelight remained casting a dim glow throughout the room. As my eyes were adjusting to the change I did notice the tone of Ms Beth’s voice sounded less compassionate and was rather stern.

My head was facing away from the doorway, so I couldn’t see much except for her faint reflection in one of the mirrors. As her heels clicked closer she approached me from the side. She came within view finally and my stomach sank into a state of panic. Mistress Beth’s appearance had completely changed. She was wearing all black lace, a half bra, negligee, garter and even a thin black mask. Most disappointedly, she had also pinned her gorgeous red hair up and even covered it with a black scarf so it was totally hidden from my view. As I focused on her hands, I noticed her blood red fingernails and lipstick. They provided a stark contrasted to her sexy black outfit and smooth white skin. At this point, she began!

Her eyes were piercing through the mask and her blood red lipstick accented a sadistic smirk.

“You are going to quickly realize how much of a mistake you made by letting me tickle torture you like this!” She first rested her hand on my leg just above the knee, lightly squeezed (exposing the first of my numerous ticklish spots to her) a few times and then slowly began dragging her fingernails over my flesh. “…Because, I am going to tickle the living shit out of you! And remember this” as she leaned in close to my face “I’m not going to show you any mercy!”

She next disclosed the specifics of the safe word that didn’t give me any comfort. Ms Beth was going to tickle me for one solid hour. I could use the safe word one time and one time only and she would stop tickling me for one minute. After that, she would resume her tickling and only stop if she felt I was going to come too soon!

She began at my feet! She knew from the interview that I didn’t think my feet were very ticklish. She stared right into my eyes as she propped one hand on the table and lightly stroked the bottom of one foot. The first stoke caused me to twitch but the sensations would not cause me to break into laughter. I closed my eyes and focused on fighting. Every now and then I would open my eyes and see Mistress Beth staring at me. Her sadistic eyes still piercing into my mind. “Perhaps the top of your feet will be more sensitive” as she took her other hand and lightly scratched the top of the same foot.

This produced more intense sensations causing me to flex and move my foot in an effort to avoid her nails. “Ahhh, there’s a tickle spot!” she cooed. I wasn’t laughing as of yet, however I began verbally grunting in frustration at my failure to avoid the tickling. She began more of a verbal torment now. She was calling me her tickle slave.

After getting mixed success from my feet she took both hands and slowly tickled her way up my legs. She worked her way upward slowly, adding to the suspense.
My Mistress was smiling in glee as the effects of her tickling continued. “My Tickle Slave awakens!” She cooed. The slow dragging of her nails continued up my legs. Each inch of skin seemed more sensitive to her touch than the last. I was soon begging her to stop. I was getting what I asked for and this woman was paying no mind to my pleas. I would catch glimpses of myself thrashing about in the surrounding mirrors as well as my evil torturer who obviously was enjoying this! I did not yet utter my safe word, however I kept debating on doing it. Soon I learned that the inside of my thighs were very ticklish. Mistress Beth noticed too, and she lingered there for a very long time. This assault was brutal and I knew I couldn’t take too much more of it. My Mistress was diabolical now, remembering each spot that worked the best and continued stroking relentlessly. ”Tickle, tickle. I’m having so much fun I may never stop” were her only words. She said them in a slow, sensual tone. My body convulsed and jerked from her tickling. Finally I could take no more! And with that, I screamed my SAFEWORD. True to her word, she stopped! As I slowly calmed down, my Mistress continued her humiliation of me…”You barely lasted ten minutes. How on earth are you going to survive a full hour of this? Besides, I’m enjoying this too much, I may grant you a free extension of time. Perhaps two or three hours!” I knew I couldn’t survive being tickled for that long.

I was finding out that I just am too ticklish for this and perhaps I made a big mistake. I was also informed how much my penis is enjoying it as well. It was completely erect through this and was even twitching as I was regaining my composure. “Enjoy what’s left of your minute of rest my poor little tickle slave. It’s about half way over now”. She stepped away from me for a few seconds and removed the scarf and clip to let her long red hair tumble free. “I think I will give you a taste of how excruciating it can be for you to be tickle tortured with my soft hair for awhile!” Walking up closer to me, her sadistic smile reappeared as she said, “Your one minute rest is over!” With that, she began to lightly tickle my face with the ends of her hair. I soon learned how frustrating it was. My Mistress licked her lips as she smiled and enjoyed my frustrations. However, she grew annoyed with my head twisting about and eventually repositioned herself above the head of the bed and held my head still with her left arm. This torture coupled with the aroma of her scented hair added a special intoxication to this part of the session. Eventually, she concluded that my breathing was coming much too easily. She had a remedy for this as well. “You don’t seem to be in too much distress. Would you like your Mistress to smother you with her hair now?” I was begging for some relief from her tickling hair, however, I soon learned that this was just another method for her to add to my torment. She covered my face fully with her hair now and used her right hand to press it firmly over my mouth and nose. It was now becoming very hard for me to get enough oxygen, and she decided to increase my agony by lightly tickling my nipples with the fingers of her other hand. She was able to reach my throbbing penis as well and she stroked me lightly there once every minute or so. She eventually stopped this phase of her torture and laughed at my predicament.

The horror intensified as she retrieved the scarf and tied it over my mouth as a gag. I was told that since I had already used my safe word, my words would be of no importance anymore.

“Your armpits look so inviting. Shall I tickle them next? I was commanded to answer with “Yes Mistress, please tickle me there!” clearly (even through the gag) or she would add even more time to my torture session.

“Shall we try again? Shall I tickle your armpits next?” She commanded. I responded as best I could and with that, her fingernails started a vicious attack on my armpits. It was only a matter of seconds until I was thrashing again. She tickled up my arms and down my sides, sometimes with her fingers and sometimes with her hair for endless variations. Through this part of the session, she required more interactive communications from me while being tickled. I was to answer in a positive mode to questions and statements by her like “You just love it when your Mistress tickles you like this, don’t you?” Naturally, with the gag it was difficult to clearly say what was required. That was an added frustration my Mistress capitalized on and used as a method of punishing me by threatening an even more extended duration of this tickle torture.

Her torture continued on and on. By now, she knew my most sensitive areas and she would be focusing on all of them again and again. She scooted up on the bed a bit so she could easily reach my nipples and my balls and penis whenever she felt like it. Sitting so relaxed, with her legs crossed as her hands played me like a piano, she demonstrated how frustrating it was for her to stop tickling me for a few seconds, only to resume zealously just as I was settling down. Her favorite was to stroke me as near to orgasm as she could by lightly tickling with her fingers, then stop and make me count to 10 before she resumed with the even softer touch of her hair drifting across my throbbing manhood. She did this at least ten times with subtle variations such as wrapping her hair gently around my cock or using her hair to whip me. She repeatedly reminded me that there would be absolutely NO mercy whatsoever. “Oh you poor baby, it doesn’t tickle does it? ” she purred. “You are in so much trouble. You remember how much mercy I have right?”
“Oh yeah, remember I have NONE, absolutely no mercy for you, no matter how much you beg and plead, no matter how bad the torture seems, I will always have more in store for you. You are my tickle slave and I my NEVER let you go. Or cum either for that matter.”

“Oh I’m evil aren’t I, well you just have no idea. We are just getting started.”

She was taking her time knowing that I was lying there thinking about the torture still to come. She would never tire of torturing each and every square inch of my body. The sadistic look on her face told me that she was not kidding.

Beth eyed my erection and noticed it couldn't be any harder. "Well, are you sure you’re not just a little excited? I'll bet you'd love to explode with pleasure right about now. Well, you’re not in charge of that, so I’ll decide when you’re ready and if I feel like granting you your wish myself."