Tickles on The Net

On the Net, Part 3

The Net was cursed, I decided. It had to be cursed. There was no other explanation for my luck.

First there had been Leslie, who'd moved to Phoenix two days after the best night of either of our lives. Then I tickled a handful of other girls, then Amy, who seemed like girlfriend material until she told me about wanting to put stuff up my butt. Then a couple of other girls who only wanted tickling, and they were fun...but for some reason the conversations never went anywhere, and we didn't end up doing anything else.

Maybe the Net was just like that. Maybe people got on, had fun for a night, and got back off. That's all I had wanted on the first night when I'd met Leslie. Maybe the problem was me and my expectations.

At least I'd learned some things about myself. I knew I had a tickling fetish, both doing it and having it done to me. But I was also pretty sure I had an orgasm denial fetish. Leaving Leslie and Amy panting for release had gotten me seriously aroused, and I couldn't stop wondering what they were feeling in those moments.

So I updated my profile to include orgasm denial, and within seconds, a message popped up. "Hey. Want to get together?"

I slid sideways to check on the profile: Taylor, 24, was into most of the same things I was, and she lived only a few miles away. As long as she didn't want to cram things up my butt, this could be a good thing. "Sure," I messaged back.

"Is this your first time doing bondage and denial?"

It was, but the directness of the question made me pause. Why was she asking? Well, whatever. My luck had been garbage enough; there was no point in dodging. "Yeah, it is."

"Come to my house. Friday night. Let's go."

Friday couldn't arrive soon enough. As soon as I got off work, I went to Taylor's place. It was an impressive two-story house in one of the nicer parts of town. I was intending to ask her what she did to afford this kind of place, but -

The front door opened and Taylor stood in front of me, looking just like she had in her Net profile. "Strip," she ordered, waving me inside.

I took two steps inside the front door and did as she'd demanded. Off came my shirt, and my shorts, and my underwear. "Your socks, too," she said, looking hungrily at my feet.

I waited for her eyes to meet mine, and then I peeled the socks off my feet. Now I was totally naked. "This way," she told me, pointing to a room just ahead.

The only thing that awaited me inside was a padded table; I'd seen ones like this before in massage parlors, but this one had a large round hole right where my waist would be. Taylor pushed me forward. "Get on. Face down."

I obeyed, reaching my arms over my head and stretching my legs out behind as my penis dangled down through the hole. Instantly the magnetic restraints clamped on to my wrists and ankles.

I'd never been in bondage before, and I found myself breathing faster, looking around to find where Taylor had gone. From behind me I heard her giggle. "First-timers are always like this," she told me. "That's why I love working on them."

I felt her fingers sliding up my bare feet, and my hands clenched into fists as I tried my hardest not to laugh. "Does that tickle?" she asked.

"Maybe."

"There's no point in resisting," she answered. Her fingers casually drifted down my soles again, and I barely kept in a groan of pleasure. "I know you have a tickling fetish, which means the more I tickle you, the more aroused you're going to get. I'll find all your tickle spots eventually. So, why don't you just be honest with me? Does that tickle?"