The tickling on my ribs, tummy and underarms hadn't let up for what felt like forever. His fingers were ruthless, digging, scribbling and spidering across every soft, sensitive inch while my body trembled and my laughter poured out in long, broken, adorable fits of giggles and squeals!

Whatever was left of my smug, disciplined resolve was dissolving fast! I was too horny now, too soaked under my jeans, too desperate for anything but the fire he’d lit between my legs against my will. The stern yoga teacher who’d started this predicament so confidently was all but c*mpletely gone. All that remained was a flushed, blindfolded, bound nympho milf who could hardly even pretend to fight anymore.

Then—abruptly—he stopped.

I was still panting, chest heaving, when I felt his hands h*ok into the waistband of my jeans. In one smooth, hungry yank he dragged them down my toned yoga legs down to my knees, taking my panties with them! Cool air kissed my swollen, aching p*ssy. My clit was throbbing visibly, slick and desperate, and I knew he could see everything.

He w*sted no time.

His tongue dove in like he owned me! Hot, wet, and passionate, lapping slow, firm circles around my throbbing button. I moaned loud and shameless, hips trying to buck up into his mouth. He made me even wetter, even hotter, until I was dripping down my *ss and whimpering for more.

The tongue vanished... And something softer replaced it! It felt like a small, delicate artist’s paint brush or something like that? Its bristles whispering over my swollen clit in feather-light strokes. It was maddening. Teasing. Perfect.

But it was only a warm-up.

He switched to his skilled fingers—two of them massaging my clit in slow, expert circles while his mouth closed over my right n*pple, sucking hard and deep. The wet heat of his tongue swirled my swollen peak as he pulled back just enough to taunt me in that deep, dominant voice. “ I'd actually like to challenge you NOT to get horny now...” he murmured against my breast.

For the briefest moment I tried. I clamped my lips shut, focused with everything I had to get my hips to stay still, refused to give him the satisfaction of a single dirty moan. I was a yoga goddess, so f*ck him! I could do this! He rewarded my stubborn l*ttle act by pressing that same diabolical vibrating feather (the one that had destroyed my right sole with) directly onto my clit.

The pinpoint silicon tip sprang to life, humming and stroking in perfect, evil l*ttle flutters. My resolve shattered instantly! “Does that feel good?” he asked, voice dripping with smug confidence. “Yesss,” I moaned, the word slipping out before I could stop it, soft and honest and dripping with need.

He seamlessly swapped in a softer, thicker brush (the same fluffy one he’d used on my soles I think) l*cking my aching clit with it in long, luxurious sweeps! Then his tongue returned, then a powerful vibrating wand that pressed firm and steady, then his mouth sucking my rock-hard right n*pple again... Sometimes while he edged my clit, sometimes while he left my p*ssy pulsing and empty just to focus on my n*pple!

He edged me slowly. Gently. Cruelly. Always pulling back the instant I got close, leaving me whimpering and rocking my hips into nothing. I lost count of how many times he brought me right to the brink and left me hanging there, a horny, desperate, so-called disciplined yogi, reduced to soft, hot moans and whispered pleas.

He must have felt the last of my fight drain away c*mpletely, because he leaned down, removed the blindfold at last, and let me see him for the first time. He was surprisingly handsome, with soft, gleaming greenish-grey eyes and a confident horny smile - the face of the man who now c*mpletely owned me. He didn’t seem to care that I could see him... He knew I was his now

His mouth found my neck and ears, kissing and nibbling passionately while one hand kept massaging my clit in slow, loving circles. The other hand roamed... Massaging my tits, pinching and rolling my nipples, stroking my tummy—all while he whispered the filthiest things right against my ear!

The full gravity of it all crashed over me: Strapped spread-eagle to my own bed, c*mpletely helpless, captured and ravished for hours of merciless tickling and p*ssy *dging. Captured or not, the raw lust of it was undeniable. I was lost in a sea of euphoria.

At one point he simply straddled my hips, pinning me even more c*mpletely, and made out with my helpless nipples! Sucking, l*cking, biting—all while I desperately air-f*cked my hips up toward him! My bound ankles pulled hard against the cuffs, a reminder of my own soft, sexy soles down there... scrunching and flexing in helpless pleasure for this naughty tickle freak!

Then came the G-spot massages...

Two gentle, loving and skilled fingers curled deep inside me, stroking that perfect spot with expert precision and bringing me right to the edge again and again, always stopping before I could tumble over. He’d switch back to tickling my desperate clit with his fingers and that terrible, wonderful assortment of brushes, cooing softly at me every time I whined in frustration!

At one point the evil genius actually went back to my feet! He massaged my right sole with one firm hand, thumb digging deep into my b*by soft arch, while his other hand never stopped massaging my clit!! He kissed the top of my foot lovingly, tongue flicking over my toes, all while keeping me teetering on the brink. It was pure heavenly hell. I hated it. But I was utterly in love with every second of it.

Finally, when I was a shaking, moaning, broken mess with truly, utterly ZERO fight left, he pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. “Ready to be a good girl and c*m your f*cking brains out?” he asked, fingers still lazily circling my clit. “... Then give me your bank login and PIN.”

I didn’t even hesitate. I gave him everything he wanted.

He rewarded me instantly. The *rgasm was f*cking glorious; Breath-taking, world-shattering, the kind that made my vision white out and my toes curl so hard my high arches flexed like they were trying to snap.

But he didn’t stop at one . Fingers. Tongue. Soft brushes. The vibrating feather. The wand. Over and over until I lost count of how many edges he dragged me through!

He kept me tied there like his eager l*ttle c*m pet, pulling hot, loving *rgasm after *rgasm out of me for what felt like hours! He tickled my clit to *rgasm, massaged my G-spot to *rgasm, and did both in perfect unison. Over and over I came my hot, desperate, horny brains out like the good girl he’d turned me into! The stern, disciplined yogi was so long gone...

By the time the last rippling *rgasm finally faded, I was half-moaning, half-giggling in total, blissful acceptance - body humming, mind blissed out, p*ssy still twitching. That was when I felt the same cloth he’d first used to subdue me press gently over my mouth again.

Everything went dark.

To Be Continued...

xoxo -Gwen

M*schi B*SM *rgasmus Verweigerung B*ndage The Tickle Bandit Reborn: Chapter 3 mit C4s.com

Mschi BSM rgasmus Verweigerung Bndage The Tickle Bandit Reborn: Chapter 3 mit C4s.com