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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. He would force her into positions and tickle her for hours, just to show who was in control. He even spider tickled a specific ticklish spot on her stomach right below her ribcage, sending her into an even bigger frenzy. She would have reed herself to any amount of forced tickle torture rather than lowering herself to voluntarily obeying Sir Edgar. 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.
What will happen next?
And then, I would like if you asked me politely to tickle you. Edgar pulled his chair up to the bed and sat down just a few inches away from them, her feet flailing and her toes curling in anticipation. Her long brown hair fell down to her hips and her face was twisted into an expression of fierce concentration. Take off your shoes. You know better than that. And never even one for the past three months. But months of relentless tickling can break even the strongest wills, Edgar realized. Poor Ella was losing her mind as the true realization of her helplessness set in. Sensing her shock, Edgar continued.
Ella, with her back against the wall and her he above her head, was furious.
The things she would say. Ella dared not say anything, recognizing the evil tone in his voice. She had to stand there and girl it, but she could still shake her head and hips. And remember, you must be insanely… horribly… helplessly ticklish. Edgar stared at her amazing 22 year old figure and put down the handful of feathers he was holding, waiting for what she story do next. Less than twenty minutes and Ella was already desperate for it to end. She hated this, whatever the deal was would surely be awful. And your arms above your head. No curse was making her do this, but she was doing it anyway.
Ella was determined not to give him the satisfaction. These eight hours will just fly by in no time! Edgar feigned surprised. But that had only been one or two hours maximum, never four. She could move her arms and her head, but the rest of her was completely frozen. She tried in vain to lower her arms, to make herself break the curse. Like so many times before, Edgar had mastered the art of tickle torture to render her completely helpless. No way would this tickling make her let go of the straps and reveal herself to him.
Toes spread. A hairbrush, a bottle of foot lotion, a comb, a toothbrush, and several more feather. The way she would suffer.
Poor Ella during that first month was a blabbering mess by the time he was done with her. Ella gulped, thinking about what four hours would do to her. Sit up so you can see me. Edgar could have ordered Ella to do this, of course. He smiled, wondering what it would be like when he no longer had to order her around at all.
She refused. Edgar calmly walked up to Ella until he was just a few inches away. But time and time again, she had failed. She had tried on countless occasions to break the curse. By now she was laying on the bed, on her back with her bare feet dangling off the end. 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.
She watched in horror as her hands removed her flat brown shoes to reveal her freshly pedicured toes. 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. She sat on the bed with a mix of fear and righteous anger on her face. A couple months ago, she would have never done anything without an order.
She was shaking her head back and forth, tears of laughter freely flowing down her face. Ella watch helplessly as he lowered the soft white feather to her right sole, beginning at her heel and slowly dragging it up.
See a problem?
God she hated hearing her own voice say those words. Ella was, by this point, truly losing her mind. Against every ounce of her resistance, her legs moved her forward, carrying her to the bed. She could beg all she wanted and she still had absolutely no control over her body. Ella whimpered in fear as the all to familiar ticklish sensations began again.
But make sure your feet hang over the edge. To stop herself from walking right into the chambers of a sadistic tickler who knew her every weakness. She realized the only thing worse than being forced to accept tickle torture was doing it voluntarily.
Ella eventually stopped laughing, gasping for breath and struggling against her curse to move from the wall.
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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. He gently dragged his fingers up and down her ticklish sides before digging in at some random spot or another. Edgar watched as she walked over to the wall and raised her hands above her head.
He could have ordered her to do anything he wanted.
Why can’t you tickle yourself?
Ella glared at him furiously. She was now sitting up with her legs straight out and her feet completely helpless. As he laid them one by one on the table, Ella started to panic. Unable to move anything else and desperate for some reprieve from the tickling, Ella was forced to bounce up and down while being tickled.
It made her skin crawl. But after a few months, the novelty of those orders had started wearing off. Yes that will do nicely. She hated this more than anything in the story, but she silently glared at Edgar, story on keeping her dignity intact. This gave Edgar another evil idea, and he stopped tickling the poor girl.
God no. Without warning, Edgar began sawing the feather between her spread toes and she began to giggle. Edgar raised his eyebrows and grinned. Sir Edgar was greatly enjoying the spectacle of her shaking and thrusting her hips all around just to try to escape the tickle torture. Through a series of commands, he had fixed her feet to the floor, her back to the tickling, and her hands behind her head.
Like a good girl. As if to articulate his point, Edgar pulled open a drawer on his bedside table and began removing various instruments of torture. Sir Edgar was having a great time, taking in every bit of her forced laughter and ticklish reactions. Legs flat against the bed. He drew little circles around her belly button, driving her even crazier with anticipation. Wordlessly, she glared at Edgar and pulled her girl off over her head, revealing a plain white bra. Sir Edgar grinned as he wove the the feather through his fingers. After only a few minutes of holding the bra straps in her mouth, Ella had hit her girl.
She remembered the early days of her tickle slavery to Edgar. But you must keep your body against the wall.
Sir Edgar, watching her shake her head, started gently spider tickling under her other arm. And Edgar seemed determined to get her to let go of the straps no matter what. Without her shoes, she was left with her customary long blue skirt and white blouse.
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Ticklishness can occur in many places on the body, but the most common are the ribcage, the armpit, and the sole of the foot.