“So,” Jake said, leaning back and folding his arms. “How’s that? Tight enough for
you?” He grinned down at the bed, surveying his handiwork.
“Oooh,” Petra whispered, squirming. “I can’t move at all, baby…”
Jake didn’t doubt that; he would have been surprised if she could have so much as
twitched a toe or finger. He had never actually tied a chick up before, but once he got
going it had proven surprisingly easy. The handcuffs he had lifted from the kinky
sex-boutique downtown had made the job a breeze. All you had to do was put a pair on her
wrists and ankles and then anchor them down with plenty of rope. As a result, his
girlfriend’s tanned, sleek body was stretched out good and tight in a classic
spread-eagle. Her arms were pinned up high over her head, and her red-painted toes just
brushed the bedstead. She looked like a gorgeous, Christmas tree angel, but an angel who
had been taken prisoner, her wings taken from her. An angel who was tied down waiting for
torture.
Petra’s legs were parted as well, and there was nothing preventing Jake from
getting a good eyeful of damp, blonde-on-pink pussy. The air conditioning was going
full-blast, but it was a hot night; Jake thought he could smell the hungry wetness rising
up from her cunt. The salty, familiar fragrance stiffened his cock inside his jeans until
it was sore.
He hadn’t been at all sure how Petra would take his suggestion of a night of
bondage-games…he knew her to be a kinky little slut, but this was her parents’ home, after
all, and she was terrified of her old man, even though the old bastard was gone for the
weekend. But in fact, she had loved the idea; no sooner had Jake brought out the cuffs
than she had started kissing him, reaching down to rub his bulging crotch. She had gotten
him so hot he could barely concentrate on tying her ass up.
And now here she was…all wrapped up for him like a pretty Christmas present. Right
on her own bed, too—the big canopied princess-bed in her pink, clothes-strewn, stuffed
animal-filled cheerleader’s bedroom. Jake spared a moment to look around him. He could
never quite get his head around this place, the sheer girlyness of it. It occurred to him
that they had never actually fucked in this room before. If tonight’s activities led to
that—as he was hoping they would, eventually, in addition to everything else on the
agenda—it would be a trip. Like fucking in Disneyland.
Petra tilted her head coquettishly at him, meeting his gaze with batting,
long-lashed blue eyes. She pouted her cherry-red lips, purring like a kitten. Petra had
platinum blonde hair like spun sugar and nice round tits you wanted to squeeze until the
nipples spiked up between your fingers. Flat tummy with a kinky little ring in her navel,
long legs that she liked to wrap around your waist when you fucked her, and a sweet little
rosebud tattoo on one ankle (Daddy had been furious when he’d seen it). And that pussy,
of course…she was starting to roll her abdominal muscles like a belly-dancer, making her
cunt wink at him.
“What’cha thinkin’ about?” she asked in her best fuck-me voice.
Christ, maybe I should just plow her right now, he thought feverishly. Then, Nah.
Terri would freak if she came in and I was fucking her. Besides, she said it’d be better
if Petra were horny before we got started working on her.
So, he thought, maybe I should just get her warmed up a little. After all, the
others would only have just gotten to the house, assuming they weren’t still at the bar.
He had taken Petra’s house-keys from her purse while she was peeing and left them out
under the front door-mat for Terri and Dan to find, just as they’d arranged. In any case,
they’d be arriving soon; he figured he might as well get a head-start on them.
Besides…it might be kind of fun.
Kneeling down beside the bed, Jake leaned over and deposited a wet, lingering kiss
on Petra’s thigh. Petra murmured appreciatively—Jake wasn’t normally this attentive;
normally he just climbed on top of her and started banging away. But when Jake planted
another kiss on her smooth skin, she shuddered violently.
“Oh…oh God…”
Jake grinned. He knew Petra’s reaction wasn’t entirely one of pleasure. He kissed
the spot again, then dragged his nails over it in a slow zig-zag.
This time the shudder was a minor convulsion that wracked the blonde’s luscious
body from head to toe. She swallowed and licked her lips. “Agggh...Jake, p-please
don’t…” She sounded nervous now; she was turned on, no question of that--Jake could still
smell the excitement moistening up her tight little pussy. And her nipples were
stiffening up nicely; they looked almost as hard as Jake’s prick had gotten. But she was
a little scared as well…and Jake knew exactly why.
“Why? What’s wrong, baby?” Jake’s voice was throaty with his own excitement.
“I’m…I’m just…” She licked her lips again, and gave a tittery, isn’t-this-silly
little laugh.
“Ticklish?” Jake smiled as he said the word. If Terri hadn’t told him, he probably
would have assumed she was; most girls were, after all. But he wouldn’t have had any idea
how badly a little kitchy-koo could freak Petra out, how she’d do or tell you anything to
avoid it…he hadn’t really believed it at first. It seemed so lame, like being scared of
spiders. He had never even thought to try and tickle her before. But now that he had her
stretched out like this—helpless—the thought was getting him hot as hell. The idea of
tearing his jeans off and giving her wet twat a good fucking presented itself to him
again, but suddenly it was nowhere near as appealing as the idea of torturing her.
Petra was an okay girl; certainly she was an okay fuck. But she could be annoying
as hell, with her fancy clothes and whispery babydoll voice. That was the initial reason
Jake had agreed with Terri’s scheme when she told him about in the bar, that and the
money…and now the pleasure he took in her torment had become an added attraction.
He made his voice calm, encouraging. “Is that it? You’re ticklish?”
“Well…yeah.” She was plainly relieved at not having to say the word. As though
now that it had been vocalized all its implicit threat was gone and they could move on to
something else.
“You’re ticklish?” Jake said, frowning as though it were a concept he was finding
difficult to understand.
“Yeah,” Petra said, a little too quickly. “Jake, c’mon…I’m like really horny…I
need me some nice hard dick.” She tried to go back into her sex-kitten routine, but
something clearly had her rattled. By now, of course, she knew exactly what kind of
mind-games her boyfriend was capable of, and up to now, those games had been a turn-on.
Sweet little Petra loved playing on the dark side with her big, tough boyfriend from the
wrong side of the tracks. But this was different, ticklishness was a vulnerability she
was definitely not into exploring.
Well ain’t that just too bad, Jake grinned to himself. This was hot, and it was
getting him even hotter. Petra really was fucking scared that he might just reach over
and tickle the crap out of her. It was much better than playing games with knives, or
waving a lit match under her pert little nose. This way, he could fuck with her head with
barely any effort at all.
“Say it,” he told her, his voice deadpan.
“Say…say what?”
“That you’re ticklish. I want to hear you say, ‘I’m ticklish.’”
“No! Jake!”
“Come on!” He reached a hand over her tummy and wriggled his fingers spider-like
over her tanned skin. Petra squealed, wriggling as hard as the bonds would allow. She
could barely move, and had to settle for squeezing her blue eyes shut.
“Jake, don’t, come on, Jake, you’re b-being an asshole!”
“Oh, I am, huh? Okay, baby, just for that…”
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