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Finally, she was yours for the night. Legs bound and spread across the wooden block, silver bracelets wrapped around either ankle with tight chains pulling. She wore a white blindfold, with a bandanna over her mouth, arms above her head in more bonds, body bare. It was so perfect, the way she looked, incapable of movement or freedom.
“How to start?” to muttered, and her head turned just slightly to your voice. She said nothing, though, only sat silently, anxiously awaiting your move. To your right was a table, a few instruments of your trade clean, neat and calling. After careful decision, looking between the table and her, you took a rainbow feather duster from the lot. The handle was cold white plastic, the end new and soft under the lamp light.
You danced around her figure, her head jerking at each footstep. She whimpered a bit, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, limbs rattling the chains just slightly. Her skin was perfect, pale and bright. As you went by her arms, you trailed your fingers along them, gasping at how soft and warm she felt. Her arm jerked back, but had nowhere to go, the silver jewelry withholding her.
With your other hand, you teased the duster across her rib cage in short swirls. She began to writhe and gasp, a few short bursts of laughter coming from under the bandanna. Sweeping, you went up the rib cage to her armpit, flicking it over her upper arm and shoulder. She tried to move, the laughter getting louder, but the chains resisted.
“Ple-e-e-ease, s-to-o-op!” she begged pitifully. As the duster worked at her flesh, you let your fingers on your other hand skitter over her, relishing in how she tensed under each move. You took a quick gasp, giddy at it.
Down her ribs you went, to her thighs, moving from the outer to inner, swiping down her calf and finally to her feet. You hesitated, giving her a quick break, before dancing one flick at a time over the ball of her foot and toes. Her leg seized, and she tried hard to move back, but couldn't, her breaths dropping in quick half-laughs and gasps.
“N-o! Please! Ha!” she cried.
After a moment more of the duster, you stepped back, tossing it back with your arsenal of tools. You took a large feather and a q-tip next, teasing the feather between her toes. They curled in agony, and she laughed more, trying her damnedest to be free of the torment, but it was of no use.. Between each toe you went, slowly, getting the largest of bristles between them, dancing down her foot to the heel at times.
“W-h-y!” she laughed hard, chest bobbing with each one, her breasts bobbing.
You came to her side, the feather going up from her foot to her leg, back to her ribs and belly. At her belly, with a bit more teasing, you took the q-tip and teased her belly button, circling around it. She again tensed and begged, but you continued, swirling into her belly button with pressure.
“Oh-m-y-y-y-y g-o-d!” she whimpered in hard laughter, her hips swaying from side to side under it. The feather then was back at her side, the pressure between the q-tip and the feather immense. She was screaming in laughter, writhing, and it was pure perfection to you. Tossing the feather and q-tip, you just used your fingers, running them along her skin and sides and stomach and chest, taking in all the sounds and movements underneath you. Her hair bounced across her shielded face.
You grinned at her beneath you, excited for what the rest of the night may bring.