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Tickle Slave Stories
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Jamala realy likes to bully me. To the vulnerable lee reading this: this is what you deserve. You are here to be us ler's tickle toys. I wanted to do something cute for Nestor and one of his partners, Hazel! She's a big sweetheart to him, but she's such a mean ler.

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Ella was, by this point, truly losing her mind. Sir Edgar was greatly Tickle slave stories the spectacle of her shaking and thrusting her hips all around just to try to escape the tickle torture. He could have ordered her to do anything he wanted. But you must keep your body against the wall.

Ella, with her back against the wall and her he above her head, was furious. He smiled, wondering what it would be like when he no longer had to order her around at all. She was now sitting up with her legs straight out and her feet completely helpless. Sir Edgar, watching her shake her head, started gently spider tickling under her other arm.

He even spider tickled a specific ticklish spot on her stomach right below her ribcage, sending her into an even bigger frenzy. She was shaking her head back and forth, tears of laughter freely flowing down her face. Without her shoes, she was left with her customary long blue skirt and white blouse.

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She hated this more than anything in the world, but she silently glared at Edgar, intent on keeping her dignity intact. She watched in horror as her hands removed her flat brown shoes to reveal her freshly pedicured toes. Edgar raised his eyebrows and grinned.

She sat on the bed with a mix of fear and righteous anger on her face. Like a good girl.

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Toes spread. Ella whimpered in fear as the all to familiar ticklish sensations began again. Edgar feigned surprised. Ella watch helplessly as he lowered the soft white feather to her right sole, beginning at her heel and slowly dragging it up. Wordlessly, she glared at Edgar and pulled her shirt off over her head, revealing a plain white bra.

He would force her into positions and tickle her for hours, just to show who was in control.

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Sir Edgar grinned as he wove the the feather through his fingers. God no. Legs flat against the bed. She hated this, whatever the deal was would surely be awful. But time and time again, she had failed.

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And then, I would like if you asked me politely to tickle you. Through a series of commands, he had fixed her feet to the floor, her back to the wall, and her hands behind her head. God she hated hearing her own voice say those words. Ella was determined not to give him the satisfaction. And never even one for the past three months. Yes that will do nicely. As he laid them one by one on the table, Ella started to panic. She had to stand there and take it, but she could still shake her head and hips.

Edgar pulled his chair up to the bed and sat down just a few Tickle slave stories away from them, her feet flailing and her toes curling in anticipation. He gently dragged his fingers up and down her ticklish sides before digging in at some random spot or another. She had tried on countless occasions to break the curse. Ella eventually stopped laughing, gasping for breath and struggling against her curse to move from the wall.

Edgar watched as she walked over to the wall and raised her hands above her head. And remember, you must be insanely… horribly… helplessly ticklish. Ella gulped, thinking about what four hours would do to her. A couple months ago, she would have never done anything without an order.

By now she was laying on the Tickle slave stories, on her back with her bare feet dangling off the end. Sir Edgar was having a great time, taking in every bit of her forced laughter and ticklish reactions. Her long brown hair fell down to her hips and her face was twisted into an expression of fierce concentration. Edgar calmly walked up to Ella until he was just a few inches away. He drew little circles around her belly button, driving her even crazier with anticipation.

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Without warning, Edgar began sawing the feather between her spread toes and she began to giggle. No curse was making her do this, but she was doing it anyway. When she was so meek and submissive to him that she would obey his every will voluntarily and accept her rightful place as his willing tickle slave. But make sure your feet hang over the edge. She remembered the early days of her tickle slavery to Edgar. This gave Edgar another evil idea, and he stopped tickling the poor girl. Take off your shoes. And your arms above your head. She could move her arms and her head, but the rest of her was completely frozen.

Poor Ella during that first month was a blabbering mess by the time he was done with her. These eight hours will just fly by in no time! The things she would say. Producing a second feather, he tickled between the two smallest toes on her left foot - a particular weak spot for Ella.

Less than twenty minutes and Ella was already desperate for it to Tickle slave stories.

Would like to try this? yes 😆

But after a few months, the novelty of those orders had started wearing off. She would have reed herself to any amount of forced tickle torture rather than lowering herself to voluntarily obeying Sir Edgar. Like so many times before, Edgar had mastered the art of tickle torture to render her completely helpless.

But months of relentless tickling can break even the strongest wills, Edgar realized. Ella glared at him furiously. Edgar could have ordered Ella to do this, of course. Ella dared not say anything, recognizing the evil tone in his voice. Against every ounce of her resistance, her legs moved her forward, carrying her to the bed. Sensing her shock, Edgar continued. To stop herself from walking right into the chambers of a sadistic tickler who knew her every weakness.

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Sit up so you can see me. Poor Ella was losing her mind as the true realization of her helplessness set in. And Edgar seemed determined to get her to let go of the straps no matter what. The way she would suffer. She tried in vain to lower her arms, to make herself break the curse. No way would this creep make her let go of the straps and reveal herself to him.

It made her skin crawl.

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She refused. As if to articulate his point, Edgar pulled open a drawer on his bedside table and began removing various instruments of torture. Unable to move anything else and desperate for some reprieve from the tickling, Ella was forced to bounce up and down while being tickled.

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So he had started switching to mind games, offering deals and predicaments that would force Ella to choose to submit to him instead of her curse forcing her to. You know better than that. After only a few minutes of holding the bra straps in her mouth, Ella had hit her limit.

A hairbrush, a bottle of foot lotion, a comb, a toothbrush, and several more feather. But that had only been one or two hours maximum, never four. She could beg all she wanted and she still had absolutely no control over her body.

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He had decided to start with her hips, a particular favorite place of his, and was currently digging his thumbs into a ticklish weak spot right above her hip bones. This made it harder for her to hold her bra and she tried to keep her feet planted on the floor, but the tickling was driving her so crazy that she had to move in any way she could, she just had to. Edgar stared at her amazing 22 year old figure and put down the handful of feathers he was holding, waiting for what she would do next.

She realized the only thing worse than being forced to accept tickle torture was doing it voluntarily. Edgar was quite enjoying the spectacle, watching her concentrate so hard on not laughing while she was forced to jump and shake her head, her thin white bra just barley containing her breasts.

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