Sugar Baby

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Sugar Baby Page 12

by Robin Roseau


  If she intended to hurt me, I wouldn't be able to stop her.

  Cassidy then walked around to stand next to my hips. She swung a portion of the tickle bench back into place. There was a clang as it locked into place, and I startled, looking over my shoulder. Cassidy paused, but then she bent down, clasped my ankles in her arms, and lifted.

  I probably could have fought her, although I don't know how effectively. I let her bend my knees, pressing my ankles into place. Then another set of stocks closed around both ankles at the same time, and I was fully locked into place.

  At that point, I squirmed, trying to pull my wrists out. I couldn't. And I really couldn't free my ankles.

  I began to pant a little.

  The end result of all this was simple. I was locked into place, helpless and vulnerable. I was lying on my stomach with my feet raised to about the same level as my ass. I was supported by my hips, chest, and shoulders. It was surprisingly comfortable.

  On the other hand, a good share of me was exposed. My breasts hung down below the table instead of squished underneath me. And of course my sides and much of my stomach were available to clever hands.

  Thinking about it all had me panting harder. I was sure I had made a huge mistake. Huge, huge, huge mistake.

  Cassidy set a hand on the small of my back, and I stilled.

  "Astrid," she said. "You don't have to let me do this."

  "I don't think I could stop you now."

  "You can still say 'no'."

  I turned my head to look up at her. "You promise you aren't going to do more than we agreed?"

  "I promise."

  I nodded. "All right, then," I said. "Do you have a timer?"

  "Yes." But she looked me up and down, her eyes settling on my nearest wrist. "If you struggle, you could hurt yourself."

  "If you know a thing about tickling," I said, "Damned right I'm going to struggle."

  "I don't want you getting hurt. I don't know if you could, but I don't want to take chances." She stepped away, moving to the cabinets along one wall. As I watched, she opened one of the large cabinets, rummaged around, and then turned back. I couldn't see what she had. She held it behind her back as she returned to my side, coming to a stop near my hips, one hand behind her back.

  "What do you have?"

  "I'm afraid you're going to freak out. I don't want you to freak out. But I don't want you to get hurt, either. I think you should look away."

  I paused, looking up at her, then from my place on the bench, I nodded once and turned my head the other way.

  I heard her move. I heard her set something onto the floor. "This is going to be a little bit intimate, but I'm not breaking my promises." Without waiting, she reached between my legs.

  "Hey!" I complained.

  She ignored me. Instead, I heard her fumbling around with something, but when I tried to look, I couldn't see. But then after a moment, I felt some sort of strap wrap around the back of one leg. She tightened it, then tightened it further. There was a second strap around the other leg, and when she was done, if I'd been locked in tightly before, now I was especially tight.

  I began panting again, wondering just how stupid I'd been.

  And she wasn't done. She moved beside me, and I turned to look at her. She didn't stop me. She was holding two straps. She set one down, draped across my back. The other she attached to the stocks thing that was holding my left wrist. Then she threaded it underneath my upper arm, doubled it back over the top, and then pulled it over the stock and somehow tightened it, pulling my arm closer to the stock over my head, locking that arm more tightly into position. I didn't say anything, but I stared at the thick, strong, black strap. I continued to stare at it while she treated my other arm the same way.

  "There," she said. "Do you want one more over your hips?"

  "No," I whispered.

  "If I think you're hurting yourself, I can add one," she said.

  I didn't answer her.

  She paused a moment before walking away. When she came back, she was holding a standard kitchen timer. She played with the buttons then showed it to me. Fifteen minutes. But she didn't hit start. Instead she knelt down so our eyes were on the same level. She was smiling, but it was nervously. Again she bit her lip, but then she nodded.

  "Astrid, you can tell me 'no'. I'll let you go. No hard feelings."

  "Are you going to lose your control?"

  "No."

  I smiled. "What are you waiting for?"

  She paused, only a few seconds. Then, very deliberately, she hit start on the timer, letting me watch. Then she set it aside.

  She didn't start tickling me right away. Instead, she walked slowly around me. I watched her as much as I could. She walked around me twice, coming to a stop beside my hips. She set her hands on my back, the fingers laced around just touching my ribs.

  And then she began stroking me, long, smooth, gentle strokes.

  "I've thought about this all night," she said. "No. Not all night. Since I saw your profile picture. You looked so sweet." And my sides rippled. Her stroking had tickled. "So innocent," she added, her words a whisper.

  She continued to stroke and brush my skin, varying what she did, teasing my elbows, running fingers along my arms and sides. Up. Down. I squirmed a little, and my sides rippled.

  "I don't want you to swear," she said. "I promised only to tickle you, but there are tickles, and there are tickles."

  "Oh, no," I said. "No, no, no. Cassidy."

  "If you don't swear, I won't use mean tickles. Or you can give me permission to offer a different punishment for swearing."

  "What?" I asked, breathless and squirming.

  She stopped moving, and then she said, "You told me I could touch. And you got naked." Then she set a hand right on my ass. I hadn't given that kind of permission, but I suppose getting naked was permission for an awful lot.

  "You want to spank me."

  "Only if you break a rule," she said. "But you didn't give permission. So if you break a rule, you get mean tickles. Unless you would prefer three swats. But maybe you don't swear often, and this won't come up."

  Then she was back to stroking my sides, and I began to squirm again.

  She got me squirming really good that way, but not all out laughing. But then she moved to my feet, and it took about fifteen seconds before I was squealing, begging her to stop, struggling and kicking ineffectively and begging in between the shrieks.

  Of course, she didn't stop.

  I'm not sure how long she tickled me that way. She worked on my feet, then back to my sides. Then back to my feet.

  "I'm going to wet myself!" I managed to croak out, and her hands stilled. It took me several seconds to stop my struggles, and I lay on the bench, panting heavily.

  A part of me was disappointed. I thought she was about to let me go.

  Instead, she walked away, back to her cabinet. When she walked back, I tried to see what she had, but she hid it from me. But she didn't make me guess very long. She moved back to my feet, and then I felt something touch the bottom of one foot, something small.

  And then there was buzzing, and I went insane.

  She had an electric toothbrush.

  I screamed. I fought. I begged. I struggled. None of it did me any good. She went after me with the toothbrush, one foot and the other, the bottoms of the feet, the toes, in between the toes. I struggled to stop her, but if I hindered her in the slightest, I couldn't tell.

  She moved to my side, and soon she used her fingers along my sides while continuing to torment the bottoms of my feet. Then she used the brush on my side, and that wasn't as bad as on my feet, but still I shrieked.

  Then she turned it off and set the brush aside. I continued to shriek for a moment, but she set hands on my back and went back to stroking me. But now it was soothing, not tickling, and slowly I calmed down.

  She was still doing that when the timer went off. Once I realized what it was, I began laughing again. "You cheat."


  "I do not cheat," she said, walking around me. She picked up the timer and shut it off. Then she stepped back to my side -- my other side this time -- and set her hands on my back. "Do I get another fifteen minutes?"

  I lay there, not answering. And her hands didn't move. "What am I offered?" I finally asked.

  "I'll spend five minutes doing anything to you that you ask, but then I get another fifteen minutes to tickle you."

  "Oh-" I almost swore, but I managed to suck it back in. "Fifteen for fifteen," I counter-offered.

  "No. Five for fifteen. That's the only offer I'm making."

  "Ten."

  "No."

  "Five for ten."

  "No." She took her hands from me and moved to my head. She set her hands on one of the straps holding my arms, and I knew she was about to release me.

  "Okay," I said.

  "Okay? Five for fifteen."

  "Five for fifteen," I agreed.

  "Excellent." She collected the timer, set a new time, and showed it to me as she pressed Start.

  "Do anything to me you think I'll enjoy," I said.

  "All right," she said. She moved down to my feet, set hands on them, and began massaging.

  It felt really good, and after a minute or two, I moaned to let her know it felt good. But I managed to say, "Please spend at least a minute or two doing something soothing higher than that before you're done."

  "I will," she said.

  She didn't, not exactly. She massaged my feet until the timer went off. I was a little upset about that, but she turned it off and moved to my side.

  And then she was very sweet and gentle. She lightly massaged my back and sides, and then more deeply in the thick muscles of my lower back. Then her hands moved to my ass, and I didn't complain as she massaged and rubbed.

  It felt really nice, and if it was so far beyond what I'd expected for tonight, I didn't complain.

  I don't know how long she did that. Not another five minutes. But it was several, and it felt nice.

  Then she didn't say anything. But she pulled her hands from me, collected the timer, and showed me it read fifteen minutes as she pressed start.

  I clamped my lips together and avoided complaining.

  She'd been soothing, but all that disappeared in seconds. It was just seconds before I again began screeching and struggling.

  Above me, Cassidy laughed, not quite as heavily as I did, but she was clearly enjoying herself as she tickled me. I think it must be difficult to tickle someone as thoroughly as she was tickling me, to listen to all the noises I was making, and not laugh with me.

  Periodically she gave me very short breaks to catch my breath, but I spent nearly the entire fifteen minutes hyperventilating, panting, and screeching. I begged her to stop I don't know how many times. And, of course, I laughed, quite loudly, over and over and over.

  She didn't stop early this time but tickled until the timer went off.

  This time, she didn't bribe me with her hands. She turned off the timer then walked around until she knelt down in front of me, brushing hair from my face. We looked into each other's eyes.

  "More?" she asked.

  "I don't know," I whispered. "I don't know if I can take much more."

  "Do you regret agreeing to this?"

  I took the question seriously, and so I thought about it. "No."

  "Once more, then," she said. "I have something truly special in mind."

  "Oh, no," I said. "Seriously?"

  "Uh huh," she said with a nod. "You won't know if you love it or hate it."

  "All right," I whispered. "But this is it. Then you have to take me somewhere and hold me."

  "I'd like nothing more."

  She walked back to her cabinets. I watched her, but of course, she hid whatever it was she collected. And then she opened a drawer, the drawer with the blindfolds, and she sorted through them.

  "I didn't agree to one of those."

  She ignored me. But she collected one of the blindfolds, letting me see it. It looked pretty serious. Then, slowly she walked back to me. She let me watch the hand with the blindfold but kept the other hidden. She walked around me and set the hidden item down where I still couldn't see it. Then she finished the path around me, coming to a stop near my head.

  "Say yes," she said.

  I stared at the blindfold. "That's one I can't get off, isn't it?"

  "Yes."

  "You're pushing."

  "I know. But consider this. I can get this on you whether you give permission or not. I'm asking."

  "And if I say no?"

  "Then I'll put it back along with the other item I retrieved, and I'll let you go."

  "You want to tickle me."

  "Yes, I do."

  "Are you going to be mad if I ask you to let me go?"

  "Are you kidding? Do you know how many endorphins are already running through my system?"

  I laughed. "Do it."

  It took her a minute. There were buckles. And, it turned out, little locks, which I could only tell because I heard them, but I would feel them for myself later. Once she was done, there was no way I was getting the blindfold off inadvertently, and I couldn't see a speck of light.

  "This is going to be a little intimate," she warned me. Then she reached underneath me, and after a moment it felt like she was putting a bra on me, although without anything over my shoulders. She did the clasp at my back. Then there was a pause, and she said, "Fifteen-minute timer."

  She began stroking me again, not tickling right away. That was sweet, but then there was a buzzing, and a second later, I earned a huge punishment.

  "Oh, fuck!" I screamed. And from that moment, I was incoherent.

  The bra wasn't a simple bra. There was something built into it, like a little electric toothbrush, right over each nipple.

  I went absolutely insane. If she punished me for the words I screamed, I couldn't tell. I was in complete, utter sensory overload.

  Oh, that wasn't the only way she tickled. Oh, no. She got my sides, and my armpits and my elbows. And of course, my feet. And it turned out my wrists were ticklish. All of me was ticklish, and I didn't stop screeching for the entire fifteen minutes, not even during the periodic, brief breaks.

  But then the timer sounded, and after a moment, everything stopped.

  I lay there, panting and panting and barely able to think.

  Above me, Cassidy set her hands on my back. She bent over and kissed the back of my neck, and then my spine. I shivered, but I was completely spent, and I lay there mutely, but still breathing loudly, my lungs heaving.

  She released me from the rather unusual bra first, then the straps and my hands, then my legs.

  She had to help me stand, and then she helped to steady me. I clung to her, saying nothing, still breathing heavily.

  But then she stepped away. I heard the cabinet, then she returned. I didn't struggle as she slipped me into a bathrobe. I didn't struggle as she led me back upstairs, my clothing still in her room in the basement.

  She led me back to the living room, but she assured me the blinds were drawn. She led me to the sofa, and as soon as she was seated, I turned sideways then lay down with my head in her lap.

  "Please remove the blindfold."

  It took her a minute, and I had to turn this way and that, but then she gently pulled it from my head. I blinked up at her for a moment and then snuggled in, closing my eyes.

  I lay there for several minutes. Cassidy gently stroked my head and hair, and slowly I calmed.

  "Are you all right?" she asked.

  I nodded. "That feels nice," I whispered. "Please don't stop."

  "I won't," she promised.

  I calmed down, and then I asked, "Do you want a relationship?"

  Discussion

  "Yes," she whispered, her hand stilling.

  "You promised not to stop," I said. She laughed, and then she was stroking my hair again. I waited a moment then said, "You don't really have to."

  "I want
to," she said. "If it feels good."

  "It does," I replied. "I need to know a few things before I decide."

  "I won't hurt you."

  "We're going to go a little slowly," I said. "I'll let you do everything you just did as often as you want."

  "Don't say that, or I might not ever let you go."

  "Fine, fine," I said. "Pick on my semantics. You know what I meant."

  "I do." She bent over and kissed my hair.

  "I need to know I can trust you."

  "You can, but I know it will take time to truly believe me."

  "I have rules," I said. "This must be a positive relationship. If you're going to make me feel like shit, that doesn't work for me."

  "I won't."

  "It has to be a real relationship," I said. "Not just booty calls. That means we have interest in each other's lives. We do things beyond heading to your room in the basement. We attend events. We... we do stuff."

  "I know what you mean, Astrid," she replied.

  "Do you have a girlfriend?"

  She laughed. "No."

  "You said you want an exclusive relationship. Is that still true?"

  "Yes. Do you have other patrons you need to talk to?"

  "Only casual."

  "And girlfriends?"

  "No. No girlfriends. Cassidy, if we're doing this, it means you're my girlfriend. You said you don't share. I don't share, either. I'm going to be really upset if you date anyone else. Are you dating anyone else?"

  "No, Astrid. Only you."

  "I saw things I couldn't recognize, including a few whips."

  "I don't have any whips. I have floggers. They look like riding crops."

  "Oh. I thought they were whips."

  "They can be used in a similar fashion, but they're far less severe. They're really a teaser, not punishment."

  I thought about it. "What if I tell you I don't like it?"

  "Then I won't do it."

  "Promise?"

  "Promise."

  I lay quietly for a minute. "All right. I have rules. You will treat me the way I want to be treated. No body modifications. No piercings, tattoos, or cutting my hair. Nothing dangerous." I thought more. "No cutting me. Nothing that breaks my skin. Nothing like that. I don't even know what I should list."

 

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