#feather duster
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doobidie Ā· 8 months ago
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fuckyeahgoodomens Ā· 1 year ago
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Just detail of Gabi in the cardigan with the feather duster :Dā¤
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rullakebu Ā· 2 months ago
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Fetish Con Fur Queen (F/M, tickling, fur)
Zack stepped inside the Center, the fading rays of the sunset bathed the entrance in a warm, golden glow. The stark contrast of black banners caught his eye immediately. They hung ominously from the walls, their dark fabric absorbing the light. Each banner bore the same bold, blood-red text: "New Helsing Fetish Con", the lettering dripping down the fabric like fresh wounds.
The 20-year-old dark haired blogger had a thing for tickle torture. Seeing people tickling, women being the ticklers in specific, awakened something inside him, an indomitable desire that couldnā€™t be squelched. Zack had always dreamed of being on the receiving end of a tickle torturing by a ruthless tickler lady; he had never booked a session or landed a play date, however. His fascination with tickle torture was something he had kept largely to himself and it was an obsession that had lingered in the shadows of his mind for years.
He had spent countless hours online, reading stories, watching videos, and imagining himself in those scenarios. The thought of being tied down, unable to escape the agonizing pleasure of skilled fingers exploring every sensitive spot on his body, filled him with a mix of fear and excitement. A couple years ago Zack had decided to start a blog, where he published his thoughts regarding tickling and everything related to it, along with re-sharing the content he had found during his online adventures.
Zack had come across the ad for the New Helsing Fetish Con while scrolling through a local forum. The bold, crimson lettering had immediately caught his attention, igniting a spark of curiosity that quickly grew into an undeniable urge. It was a chance to finally step out of the shadows and immerse himself in a world he had only ever observed from a distance. The idea of attending a fetish convention had always seemed daunting, but something about this one felt like the right opportunity to take the first plunge into his deepest desires.
As the days passed, Zack found himself thinking about the convention more and more. The thought of being surrounded by people who shared his interests was both comforting and exciting. For so long, his obsession with tickling had been a private affair, confined to the pages of his blog and the recesses of his mind. But now, there was a chance to connect with others who understood the thrill and complexity of his fetish.
With this in mind, Zack made the decision to attend. As he prepared himself for the night, he reminded himself that this was just the beginning. Whether or not he experienced the tickling he fantasized about, this was his first real step into the world he had long dreamed of. The convention offered a chance to explore his desires in a new way, and Zack was ready to embrace whatever the evening had in store for him.
Zack took a deep breath and stepped inside through the glass doors, as if stepping through a portal to a different realm. The faint murmur of distant chatter from the main hall reached his ears, a reminder of the world he was about to enter. For a moment, he paused in the dimly lit foyer, the heavy silence around him contrasting with the vibrant energy he knew lay just beyond.
He closed his eyes, drawing in another deep breath, the air tinged with a mix of incense and something unidentifiable, yet tantalizing. His heart pounded in his chest, a rhythm that seemed to echo the mantra running through his mind: ā€œYou can do this. Just get in there. Just go.ā€ The words were both a command and a reassurance, a way to steady his nerves against the wave of apprehension threatening to overwhelm him.
Zack could feel the weight of this moment, the significance of the step he was about to take. It wasnā€™t just about crossing a physical threshold; it was about crossing into a new chapter of his life, one where his fantasies and reality might finally converge. With one final, steadying breath, he opened his eyes and straightened his posture. The door to the main hall beckoned, and Zack knew that it was time to face whatever awaited him inside.
Just go. He repeated to himself as he took the first step forward, the sound of his footsteps merging with the distant hum of anticipation that filled the air. The main hall was at the bottom of a wide, grand staircase. Each step he took echoed in the stillness, the sound magnifying the thudding of his heart, which seemed to quicken with every downward movement.
Zackā€™s heartbeat pulsed in his ears, pounding in sync with his footsteps, like a drumbeat leading him into the unknown. The closer he got to the bottom, the more the distant chatter from the main hall grew clearer, transforming from an indistinct murmur into the lively buzz of a crowd. The atmosphere thickened with anticipation, and Zack could almost feel the energy seeping up through the floor, vibrating through his bones.
He reached the bottom of the staircase and paused, his breath catching as he stood before the entrance to the main hall. The doors were slightly ajar, allowing a sliver of warm, flickering light to spill out, beckoning him forward. He could hear the hum of conversation, the clink of glasses, and occasional bursts of laughterā€”sounds of a world that had, until now, only existed in his imagination.
He looked around the hall, his eyes widening as he took in the scene before him. The space was vast, filled with an array of stalls constructed from sleek steel pillars. Each stall had a sturdy black wooden board perched on top, like a signpost marking the way into a different world. Written on these boards, in bold, blood-red lettering, were the names of the specific fetishes each stall catered to. There were representatives holding a presentation at each fetish.
Zack took a big step forward, feeling as if he were plunging into the depths of a world he had only ever imagined. The air seemed to hum with energy, a mix of excitement and anticipation that was almost palpable. As he looked around, his eyes were met with a dizzying array of stalls, each one more intriguing than the last. There were stalls dedicated to every imaginable kink and fetish, each with its own unique setup and atmosphere. Zack reached into his bag and pulled out a notepad, writing down the descriptions of different stalls he saw:
"Stall 1: Bondage Paradiseā€”Leather straps, cuffs, and ropes displayed with precision. A dominant figure demonstrating intricate knotwork on a willing participant. The air thick with the scent of leather and anticipation."
"Stall 2: Smokingā€”A dimly lit glass booth. Inside, participants are smoking, as to keep the aromas and plumes of smoke restricted to their own section. It was basically similar to a separate smoke room you could find in a bar."
"Stall 3: Roleplay Theaterā€”Costumes and props arranged like a stage set. Visitors don masks, transforming into characters as they step into different scenarios. A couple in the corner, dressed as a Victorian lord and lady, acting out a scene with remarkable authenticity."
Zack then saw a stallā€”the stall, his stall. The one that had been the focal point of his thoughts since he first set foot inside the convention. His heart skipped a beat as his gaze locked onto it. The sign above the stall stood out against the dimly lit backdrop, the blood-red letters stark and commanding: "Tickle Torture."
He scanned the sign slowly, his eyes tracing each letter as if committing them to memory. The words seemed to pulse with life, reflecting the deep-seated desire that had drawn him here. Zack could feel his throat tighten as he gulped, the reality of the moment sinking in. This was itā€”the culmination of years of curiosity, countless hours spent imagining and writing about this very scenario.
The stall itself was simple but undeniably effective in its setup. A padded bondage chair stood at the center, inviting yet foreboding. The top of the chair was like a cross with boards extending to the sides. At their ends were straps, designed to keep the victims arms in a T-position. The leg rests spread apart from the bottom, with stocks designed to keep ankles in place. There were toe ties attached to each stock. Around the chair, a box with various tools of tickle torment were arranged: feathers of different lengths and textures, soft brushes, baby oil, hairbrushes, Wartenberg wheels and other implements designed to coax laughter and helplessness from anyone who dared submit to their touch.
With sweaty palms, Zack wrote the description of the scene in his notepad, trying to capture every detail of the setup that had both intrigued and excited him. His handwriting was hurried and somewhat shaky, a reflection of his nervous anticipation.
As he lifted his gaze back towards the stall, he noticed a tall blonde woman standing behind the setup. Her straight, long hair cascaded down her back, and the glasses perched on her nose gave her an air of authority. She was dressed in a black leather corset, styled like a dominatrix's, accentuating her commanding presence. Her outfit was both elegant and intimidating, a perfect match for the atmosphere of the stall.
Zackā€™s attention was drawn to the various scenes unfolding around the padded chair. A woman in a sleek, satin dress was currently seated in the chair, her arms secured by the leather straps and her legs held fast in the stocks. Her face was a mix of anticipation and delight as a man, who Zack presumed was her partner, worked meticulously on her. He was using his fingers to gently tickle her armpits, coaxing soft giggles that floated through the air. The man seemed completely engrossed in his task, but making sure not to torture her too much.
Zackā€™s eyes moved to yet another participant, this time a man who had taken a turn in the chair. His expression was one of apprehension mixed with excitement as the tall blonde woman meticulously applied baby oil to his feet before using a soft brush to tickle him. His reaction was a blend of laughter and pleas, his toes curling against the stocks as the sensation washed over him. Zack felt a tent quickly pitching in his jeans, seeing the lady tease and torment the poor manā€™s sensitive feet.
As the man was finally released and stood up, a look of relief mingled with lingering amusement on his face, the tall blonde woman's gaze shifted sharply. It was as if her eyes locked onto Zack with a piercing intensity, cutting through the ambient noise and activity of the convention hall. Her gaze was unwavering, direct and commanding.
ā€œYoung man,ā€ she said, her voice clear and authoritative yet inviting, ā€œwould you like to try?ā€
Zackā€™s bottom lip trembled as he stared at her in shock, his mind racing. The weight of the moment seemed to crash down on him, and a surge of uncertainty swept over him. The thrill he had felt moments ago turned into a wave of hesitation, and he struggled to reconcile the fantasy he had dreamed about with the very real and daunting opportunity before him.
He opened his mouth, but the words that came out were not what he had anticipated. ā€œN-n-no thank you, Iā€™m good,ā€ he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes darted away from the chair, unable to meet the tall blonde woman's piercing gaze any longer.
In a swift movement, he turned and stepped back, his feet carrying him away from the tickling stall. His heart was pounding, and the surrounding sounds of the convention felt distant as he made his way to the stall directly opposite.
As he approached, the sign above the stall caught his eye. "Fur Fetish," it read in bold, inviting letters. Zack's pulse began to steady slightly as he looked at the new stall, the change in focus offering a momentary escape from his earlier apprehension.
The stall was a soft contrast to the one he had been at moments before. There was big fur rug on the floor and two plush chairs with fur rugs placed over them. There was a coat rack, with an assortment of different fur clothing: coats of different sizes and fur sorts and massive double-faced stoles. A small table was placed next to the rack, on it fur mittens and different hats. But the grandest installation was the massive bed, covered in massive fur coats and blankets.
There were only two people attending the stall, seated on the plush chairs. In front of them was a lady. She was dressed in a full-length Finn raccoon coat, its rich, luxurious fur cascading around her. The coatā€™s deep, natural brownish hues shimmered subtly under the soft lighting. Draped across her shoulders was a matching stole, its fur complementing the coat perfectly and adding an extra layer of opulence.
On her feet, she wore Finn raccoon boots, extending the theme of comfort from her coat to her footwear. The boots were stylish yet practical, their fur enhancing both their visual appeal and their tactile warmth.Ā 
Beneath the coat and stole, she wore a body bikini set made from the same luxurious fur. The set was both bold and elegant, showcasing the unique texture of the Finn raccoon fur in a more intimate and daring way. The furā€™s natural patterns and colors created a striking visual effect, adding a sense of allure.
The womanā€™s appearance was further accentuated by her reddish bangs, which cascaded elegantly down her forehead, framing her face with a vibrant, eye-catching hue. Her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail at the back, its glossy sheen adding a polished touch to her sophisticated look.
Zack, feeling the need to escape the intensity of the tickling stall, stepped into the fur stall with a hurried, almost desperate energy. His movements were quick, driven by a mix of relief and lingering nerves from the earlier experience.
As he entered, the woman in front of him noticed his arrival. She glanced up and then down at his crotch, a knowing smile spreading across her face. Her expression shifted to one of amusement, as if she found something both intriguing and entertaining in his sudden, flustered appearance. There was a name tag on her chest and Zack read it quickly. ā€œR. R.ā€ it said.
She began her presentation, Zack immediately recognizing her slight accent as Dutch: "Welcome to the fur fetish stall," she began, her tone rich with enthusiasm. "Here, we celebrate the luxurious and soft sensations of fur in all its forms. Whether you're looking for the softest mittens, the warmest coats, or simply a plush environment to indulge in tactile pleasures, youā€™re in the right place."
She gestured gracefully to the various items on display, her movements emphasizing the elegance of her outfit. "Feel free to explore and experience the different textures. Our fur garments are crafted from the finest materials, designed to offer both visual beauty and sensory delight. You can try on any of the coats, stoles, or accessories and feel the exquisite softness for yourself."
The two other attendees, visibly intrigued by the offerings, began trying on different items. Zack, however, remained rooted in place, his initial sense of urgency now replaced by a lingering hesitance. He felt a sense of uncertainty, unsure of how to fully immerse himself in this new environment.
Ms. R. noticed Zackā€™s hesitation and gracefully walked over to him. Her presence was commanding yet soothing, and she approached with an air of practiced elegance. ā€œWhy are you not trying the furs, dear?ā€ she asked, a slight hint of tease in her voice.
Zack couldnā€™t deny the alluring effect the fur had on him. The way the soft strands glistened under the ambient lighting, their sumptuous texture inviting to the touch, and how they draped so elegantly on Ms. R. were undeniably captivating. There was something inherently sexy about the luxurious material, its rich appearance and allure stirring a sense of desire.
ā€œI-I-I donā€™t know,ā€ Zack uttered, stunned in place. His voice wavered, betraying the internal conflict between his fascination with the fur and his lingering hesitation.
ā€œHm,ā€ Ms. R. mused thoughtfully, her expression filled with curiosity. She grabbed a tail of her stole and spun it in the air as she slowly walked around Zack. ā€œOne of the main reasons people are sexually attracted to fur clothing is its sensuality. One of the main joys of this fetish is experiencing the distinctive sensations.ā€ She stopped right behind Zack as she leaned next to his ear and brushed the tail of the stole along his jawline, whispering: ā€œKind of like tickling...ā€
The sensation of the soft fur brushing against his skin, combined with her intimate whisper, caused Zackā€™s neck hairs to stand up. Goosebumps spread across his arms and shoulders, the combination of tactile and auditory stimuli heightening his awareness and eliciting a visceral reaction.
ā€œAttention attendees!ā€ a voice suddenly announced, cutting through the ambient sounds of the stall. The voice was clear and authoritative, and the announcement commanded immediate attention. ā€œThe award show begins in 5 minutes. After the event, weā€™ll transfer to the after-party held separately.ā€
The remaining attendees in the hall quickly mobilized, their movements filled with urgency as they made their way toward the award show. The two other people who had been enjoying the fur items at the stall swiftly removed their garments. They carefully placed the fur coats, stoles, and accessories back on their respective racks, ensuring everything was arranged. Their movements were quick and practiced, an indication of their eagerness to attend the award show.
Zack turned away from Ms. R., intending to join the others heading to the award show. As he took his first step toward the exit, he felt a firm grip on his hand. He looked down to see Ms. R. holding him with a gentle yet unyielding grasp.
ā€œJust a moment,ā€ she said, her voice steady and commanding. Her eyes met his with a sultry gaze. ā€œThereā€™s something Iā€™d like to discuss with you.ā€
ā€œY-y-yes?ā€ Zack answered, still a bit shaken by her earlier teasy ministrations.
ā€œI saw you watching the tickling display, when the lady tickled that guyā€™s feet with a brush. You watched it, intently. Your gaze never faltered.ā€ She mentioned, walking in front of Zack. ā€œYou were captivated by it, never taking your eyes off of them. And once it was your turn, you walked away.ā€ Ms. R. continued, circling behind Zack again. ā€œThen you walked into my stall with a hard onā€¦ā€ She hugged Zack from behind, holding him in a fuzzy embrace. She whispered, ā€œYou wish to be tickled. You wish to laugh as a lady teases you with maddening ticklish touches. Yet you refused.ā€
Zackā€™s body trembled under Ms. R.ā€™s embrace, the combination of her observations and the intimate contact overwhelming him. Her words pierced through his defenses, forcing him to confront the desires he had been both fascinated by and afraid to fully acknowledge.
ā€œAnd when you came into my stallā€¦ I saw the look in your eyeā€¦ the way you looked at me in my soft, luxurious, plush furs. You may not realize it but it was clear that you find fur arousing as well.ā€ She let up the hug and stepped in front of Zack once again. ā€œSometimes,ā€ Ms. R. continued, her voice enticing, ā€œwe need someone to help us confront our desires and fears.ā€ She took notice of a twitching bulge in Zackā€™s jeans. She grabbed it gently as she leaned next to his left ear, brushing his right cheek with a sleeve of her coat, whispering. ā€œSo what do you say? If we have you tickledā€¦ right here, right now?ā€
ā€œB-b-but the peopleā€¦ā€ Zack stammered, his mind racing with both excitement and apprehension. The thought of being exposed in such a personal way, even in a somewhat private setting, made him hesitant.
Ms. R. smiled reassuringly, her eyes twinkling with a mixture of confidence and understanding. ā€œTheyā€™re too busy at the show to hear us,ā€ she said, her voice soothing and persuasive. ā€œAnd once itā€™s over, they wonā€™t come back here. Itā€™ll be just the two of us.ā€
Her words were accompanied by a gentle caress of her fingers against the soft fur of her stole, a gesture that both comforted and seduced. The idea of being alone with Ms. R. in the stall, having the opportunity to experience tickling in the exact manner he had always dreamed of, was incredibly enticing.
He nodded.
Ms. R. purred as her hands found the helm of Zackā€™s shirt as she lifted it up. He in turn took his shoes off and used his toes to discard his socks. Next she unbuckled his belt and pulled down his pants, revealing a throbbing manhood to both of their eyes.
Ms. R.ā€™s hands met Zackā€™s chest as she began to push him towards the stall opposite them. She made the young man sit and quickly strapped his wrists to the chair. She locked the stocks, but didnā€™t tie the toe ties just yet. She took a step back, taking in the sight before her: a helpless young man strapped to a bondage chair.
Ms. R. pulled a small roller stool over and sat down beside him, her posture relaxed but her eyes focused intently on her captive. The silence between them was heavy, filled with the sound of Zackā€™s heartbeat pounding in his ears like a relentless drumbeat. His anticipation grew with every passing second, the unknown of what was to come only intensifying his arousal and anxiety.
For a moment, Ms. R. simply observed him, letting the weight of his predicament settle in. The calmness of her demeanor contrasted sharply with the storm of emotions brewing inside Zack. Finally, she leaned in closer, her voice soft yet laced with authority. ā€œThis is your moment, Zack,ā€ she murmured, her breath warm against his ear. ā€œYouā€™ve waited so long for thisā€¦ to be tickled, teasedā€¦ā€
Zack's voice trembled as he voiced the lingering doubt that had been gnawing at the back of his mind. "W-w-w-what if I donā€™t laugh?" he stammered, the words barely escaping his lips.
ā€œYou will laugh,ā€ Ms. R. assured, rising up from her chair to stand next to her captive. She lifted her right leg before taking a seat on Zackā€™s legs. Her finn raccoon coat spread over his lap, feeling like a warm fuzzy blanket. She leaned in closer, her face mere inches from Zackā€™s. ā€œBecause I will leave you no choiceā€¦ā€
Ms. R.'s fingers danced teasingly in the air, her nails gleaming as she wiggled them in front of Zack's widening eyes. His breathing grew winded and shallow, each inhale quick and rushed as he watched those perfectly manicured nails inching ever closer to his vulnerable, exposed armpits. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a mix of dread and excitement twisting in his gut.
And then, with the lightest touch, her fingers made contact. The sensation was almost electric. Her nails skittered over his armpits with feather-like precision. Zack's body jerked involuntarily, and a stifled laugh spread across his lips, the tickling sensation immediately spreading all over his nerves.
ā€œTickle, tickle~ā€ Ms. R. mused, her teasing words burning through Zackā€™s psyche like a wildfire. ā€œLaugh for me. Why resist? Let me hear those sweet giggles escape.ā€
Zack forced his eyes shut. The powerful tingling sensations vibrated through his nerves, spreading down his sides and arms as he felt Ms. R. 's nails lightly scrape against his open armpits. So this is what it felt like to be tickled. It had been so long, and it felt so good. The overwhelming tingling, the need to burst out into laughter felt so liberating and arousing.
Zack couldnā€™t hold it anymore and burst out into ticklish laughter, much to the pleasure of Ms. R. ā€œHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OH MYHYHYHYHYHY GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAD!ā€
Ms. R. leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, "Told you... no choice but to laugh." She shifted her focus, beginning to slowly lower her flicking nails towards Zackā€™s quivering sides. ā€œNow, tell me how much it tickles.ā€
Zack jolted forward when her nails met his sides, his eyelids blasting open as he met the knowing gaze of Ms. R. Her smile was warm and teasing, almost motherly. It was unlike any other, an expert ticklerā€™s knowing smile. No words were needed. She knew exactly how much it tickled. Zack's desperate and ticklish laughter was indication enough.
Zack tried to buck in his restraints, but to no result as Ms. R.ā€™s fur-clad figure kept him securely in place. Her tickling fingers spidered up and down his sides, eliciting helpless and uncontrollable laughter from him. The tails of Ms. R.ā€™s fur stole brushed against his hips and the hem of her coat caressed his ankles as he tried to squirm away. He couldnā€™t help it.Ā 
Ms. R.'s fingers danced skillfully up Zack's sides, each touch sending jolts of ticklish agony through his body. As her nails ascended, they moved with deliberate slowness, prolonging the sensation, heightening his anticipation. Zack's laughter faltered as he braced for the next wave, his breath hitching when he realized her fingers weren't stopping at his armpits.
They kept climbing.
They climbed past his armpits and spread towards his wrists on each arm. Zack's laughter took on a new tone, a mix of desperation and helplessness, as Ms. R.'s fingers reached the sensitive skin beneath his arms. His head tossed back against the chair, his eyes squeezing shut as he struggled to cope with the intensity of the sensation.
After reaching his wrists, Ms. R. 's nails began their slow, deliberate descent, retracing their path down Zack's arms. The sensation was no less intense on the return journey; in fact, it seemed to grow even more maddening as her nails skimmed over the same sensitive spots they had just teased.Ā 
When she reached his armpits again, Zack assumed she would descend towards his sides again. But no, she kept tickling and spidering her nails in his armpits, taking him by surprise. His body reacted with a violent jolt, his laughter transforming into frantic, uncontrollable bursts as he thrashed desperately against the restraints.
Ms. R. giggled, amused by his helpless reactions. ā€œTickling 101: never let the person youā€™re tickling assume anything.ā€
ā€œHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! ENOHOHOHOHOHOHUG! IT TICKLEHEHEHEHEHEHEHES SOHOHOHOHOHOHO MUHUHUHUHUHUHUCH! LET ME GOHOHOHOHOHO! PLEAHAHAHAHAHASE!ā€
ā€œAwwā€¦ā€ Ms. R. cooed, leaning in close once again. She gave Zackā€™s cheek a quick kiss, her lipstick leaving a visible mark. She grabbed a tail of her stole, brushing it on Zackā€™s face and tracing the contours of his jawline, whispering. ā€œIt tickles, does it? But I can see how much you like it. I can feel your hard cock twitching beneath me with every touch. You love it when I tickle you, sweetheart. You canā€™t possibly get enough.ā€
Zack could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, his arousal becoming an undeniable, inescapable part of the experience. The combination of tickling and her intimate, taunting remarks stirred something deep within him, making his reactions even more intense. Despite his best efforts to control himself, the evidence of his desire was clear to both of them. Each ticklish touch seemed to only heighten his arousal, making his situation even more overwhelming.
Ms. R. stood up from Zackā€™s lap, revealing his throbbing red manhood from underneath. It was effectively begging for attention, its tip oozing with droplets of untamed desire. Ms. R. glanced at it and back at Zack, raising a teasing eyebrow. ā€œYou really seem to like being tickled,ā€ she said, strolling over to the position between his legs and twirling her fur stole in the air with her hand.
Zackā€™s breath came in loud, uneven pants, each inhale and exhale filled with the lingering effects of the tickling. His chest rose and fell rapidly, the intensity of his recent laughter and the lingering ticklish sensations leaving him breathless and disoriented.
Ms. R. leaned in closer, her gaze fixed intently on Zackā€™s pleading eyes. Her expression was a mix of playful dominance and genuine curiosity, enjoying the sight of his vulnerability and heightened state. She lowered her hands, fingers poised with deliberate precision, and began to tickle Zackā€™s inner thighs.
Zack clenched his behind tightly, his muscles tensing as he instinctively tried to ward off Ms. R.ā€™s relentless tickling nails. His legs shook with an erratic, involuntary rhythm, each movement a desperate attempt to escape the maddening sensations that were being inflicted upon him.
She continued her exploration, the tickling became a relentless, pleasurable torment, making it impossible for Zack to catch his breath or regain his composure. His eyes remained locked with hers, a mixture of surrender and excitement reflected in their depths.Ā 
The tingling sensation of tickle torture flowed throughout his legs and most importantly his pelvis. Zackā€™s cock twitched violently with each nail stroke, an indication of his overflowing lust for being tickled. The tickling was relentless, yet arousing. Zack felt himself nearing an intense ticklegasm with each passing moment.
ā€œTickle, tickle, tickle~ā€ Ms. R. teased in a singsong voice, her tone dripping with playful cruelty. As she leaned forward, her face hovered just inches from Zackā€™s, and with each word, she shook her head side to side in a taunting rhythm. The movement of her head, combined with the mischievous glint in her eyes, only intensified the torment.
The unrelenting tickling and teasing words were enough to push Zack over the edge. With one final, breathless laugh, Zack felt the tension release, the edge he had been teetering on finally giving way. The overwhelming sensations flushed over him, as a streaks of cum shot out from his throbbing sex. Zack's yell pierced the air, echoing through the stall as he thrashed against his restraints. The intensity of the moment had reached a crescendo, every nerve in his body alight with electrifying sensations. It was as if his entire being had been wired to a high voltage cable.
Ms. R. watched with a satisfied smile, her eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and control. She had pushed Zack to his limits, and now she reveled in the sight of him completely unraveling after her touches. The power she held over him was palpable, and she savored every second of his surrender.
As Zack's frantic thrashing began to subside, his breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps. His body was trembling, every muscle tense as he tried to recover from the intense sensations that had just overwhelmed him. He slumped back into the chair, utterly spent, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.
Ms. R. watched him with a teasing smile, her gaze never leaving his as she slowly stood up from her seat between his legs. "Oh, poor thing," she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "You look so tired... so vulnerable."
She strolled over to where he sat, her movements slow and deliberate, each step calculated to draw out the tension. With a sultry smirk, she lifted the fur stole from her shoulders, the soft, luxurious material sliding sensually through her fingers. Ms. R. gently but firmly wrapped the fur stole around his head, covering his eyes. The world went dark, the plush softness of the fur enveloping his vision, leaving him in a state of heightened anticipation. The sensation of the fur against his skin was intoxicating, the scent and feel of it only adding to the sensory overload he had been experiencing.
"Weā€™re not done, sweetie. Let's see how you handle it when you can't see what's coming next," she whispered into his ear, her voice a tantalizing mix of menace and seduction. The world around him was reduced to darkness and the lingering touch of her hands, the sensation of the fur stole blinding him only heightening his vulnerability.
Zack couldnā€™t see a thing, but every other sense seemed heightened in the absence of sight. His hearing, in particular, became acutely sensitive, and he could pick up on every subtle sound in the room. The soft rustle of Ms. R.ā€™s fur, the sound of her steps on the floor, and the faint swish of air as she moved.
Zack's tension was at its peak when he suddenly felt the lightest touch on the soles of his feet. It was a feather-light stroke, almost imperceptible at first, but enough to make him jerk instinctively in his restraints. Ms. R. had silently moved to the foot of the chair, and without warning, she began to tickle his feet. Her fingers danced skillfully over his soles, skittering along his vulnerable skin.
Zack's feet thrashed from side to side, desperately trying to evade Ms. R.'s relentless tickling fingers. But no matter how hard he tried to escape, the restraints held him firmly in place, and her flicking nails followed every twitch, never losing contact with his feet.
Zackā€™s desperate laughter was muffled by the fluffy stole tied over his face. The thick fur not only blocked his vision but also absorbed and dampened the sounds of his uncontrollable cackling. Each burst of laughter came out as a stifled, breathless sound, distorted by the softness of the fur accessory.
Ms. R. teased him mercilessly as she continued, her voice soft and mocking, ā€œSuch ticklish feet. You canā€™t help but laugh, can you? Come on. Sweetie. Tell mama how much it ticklesā€¦ā€ Her words were delivered with a playful lilt, each syllable designed to provoke and tease. As her fingers danced mercilessly across the sensitive arches of Zackā€™s feet, the tickling sensations were made even more maddening by the way she spoke to him. ā€œTell me, darling,ā€ Ms. R. continued, her voice a seductive tease, ā€œhow much does it tickle? I want to hear you say itā€¦ā€
ā€œIF TIFFFFFFFLLLLS! IF TIFFFFFLS SF MFFFFFFFCH!ā€ he managed to cry out, his voice muffled by the plush stole and distorted by his uncontrollable laughter. The earlier ticklegasm had heightened his sensitivity, making each touch feel more intense than ever before.
Ms. R.ā€™s voice was a teasing purr, filled with a mock-serious edge as she continued to enjoy Zackā€™s helpless state. ā€œOh, sweetie. Iā€™m afraid that isnā€™t quite enough,ā€ she said, her tone dripping with playful cruelty. ā€œIt has to tickle more.ā€
Ms. R. lifted her fingers from Zackā€™s feet, a teasing smile playing on her lips as she observed his reaction. The sudden cessation of the tickling left Zack gasping for breath, his body still trembling with residual laughter and sensitivity. She then pulled back the toe binds for each of Zackā€™s big toes, her movements swift and precise.
Zack tried scrunching his toes, desperately attempting to shield his sensitive feet from the impending ticklish torment. However, the toe bindings held his toes in place, rendering his efforts futile. His movements were restrained, leaving him completely at Ms. R.'s mercy.
With that, she reached for a tool from the nearby collection left by the earlier tickle mistressā€”a soft, fluffy brush with the most delicate bristles, promising a tickle like no other. She held it up with a grin, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. ā€œTickle tickle, darlingā€¦ā€ she added, her tone both menacing and playful.
As the fluffy brush made contact with the exposed base of his toes on his right foot, Zack's efforts to resist only intensified the sensation. Each stroke of the bristles felt like an electrifying touch, the soft brush brushing against his skin in an exquisitely maddening rhythm. Zack banged his head back and forth, side to side, but it had no helping effect. Quite the contrary, as the fluffy stole tied over his face brushed and teased him with each bang, the hairs of fur tickling his face.
Ms. R. switched feet with a fluid, practiced motion, moving to Zackā€™s left foot. She adjusted the toe bindings and began to brush the base of his toes with the fluffy brush, maintaining the same maddening rhythm and pressure. As she administered her ticklish brushing to his left foot, Ms. R.ā€™s gaze averted to Zackā€™s crotch once more. It twitched, rapidly growing in size. He was getting hard again.
Ms. R. giggled, opting to tease him once again. ā€œLook at you, getting all excited again,ā€ she teased, her tone dripping with satisfaction. ā€œYou love being my fluffy tickle toy, donā€™t you? You canā€™t get enough of being tickled by your fluffy tickle mistress.ā€
She continued the relentless brush strokes, her words amplifying the ticklish sensations and adding a new layer of torment. The brush moved methodically across Zack's left foot, targeting every sensitive spot with expert precision. Each stroke seemed to echo her taunts, heightening his helpless laughter and deepening his surrender to the experience.
Ms. R. leaned closer, her voice a sultry purr as she continued to brush Zackā€™s left foot. ā€œHow does the stole feel on your face? Isnā€™t it just delightful? The way the fur teases your face while I tickle your feet? Youā€™re completely immersed in the experience, arenā€™t you?ā€ she asked, her tone teasing and inquisitive.
Zack couldnā€™t deny that there was something inherently arousing about the fur stole. The sensation of its soft, warm fabric brushing against his face created a unique and intoxicating contrast to the tickling on his feet. The fur's plush texture felt luxurious and intimate, enhancing his overall sensory experience.
ā€œDonā€™t worry, darling. Once Iā€™m done with this tickle torture Iā€™ll overwhelm you with the softest furs in the world. I can tell how the stole arouses you. How its brushing, its softness, its smell, its feel captivate you. You love fur, and you canā€™t hide it.ā€ Ms. R. cooed.
Ms. R. lifted the fluffy brush from Zackā€™s toes with a slow motion, letting the brushā€™s bristles gently glide across his sensitive skin one last time. She set the brush aside and reached for a nearby bottle of baby oil, her movements smooth and practiced.
ā€œButā€¦ā€
She then approached Zackā€™s feet again, her touch deliberate and soothing as she began to massage the baby oil into his soles. The oil spread across his skin, creating a slick, slippery surface that heightened the sensations of tickling.
ā€œIā€™m still going to torture you, darlingā€¦ā€
Without warning, she reached for a nearby hairbrush, its bristles soft but firm. She began to scrub the brush against Zackā€™s oiled feet with swift, rhythmic motions. The bristles glided effortlessly over the slick surface of his feet, each stroke sending waves of heightened, maddening sensations through his sensitive skin.
Ms. R.ā€™s eyes sparkled with delight as Zack's muffled cries filled the room. Each "MMMMMMMMMFFFFFF!" and "MMMMMMMMFFFFFFF!" was music to her ears, a testament to the effectiveness of her tickle torture. The rhythmic scrubbing of the hairbrush on his oiled feet seemed to drive him wild, making his laughter almost incoherent as he squirmed and writhed in his restraints.
Zack's inability to scrunch his toes, coupled with his restrained position, left him utterly powerless. The hairbrush continued its relentless dance over his oiled feet, and every movement seemed to amplify the ticklish torment he was experiencing. Each time he tried to move, the sensations only seemed to increase, leaving him trapped in a cycle of helpless laughter.
Ms. R. teased, watching as Zackā€™s fur covered head thrashed from side to side, ā€œLook at you, completely at my mercy. You canā€™t even move your toes, can you? All you can do is laugh and squirm while I tickle you, isnā€™t that right?ā€
She paused for a moment, allowing the tickling sensations to build up before continuing, ā€œYou know, youā€™re such a good ticklish toy. Every time I hear you laugh, it just makes me want to tickle you even more. You love it, donā€™t you? You love how helpless you are, how the tickling never stops.ā€
Ms. R.ā€™s voice was a mix of playful cruelty and genuine enjoyment. ā€œJust imagine how it feels. Being so utterly tickled that you canā€™t think of anything else, unable to do anything but laugh. Youā€™re my ticklish little plaything, and Iā€™m going to make sure you enjoy every moment of it.ā€
While Ms. R. had tickled and tortured him, Zackā€™s sex had grown to the size it had been before his first ticklegasm. It was throbbing once again, standing at full attention. It quivered in place, each twitch seeming to correspond to a rub of the hairbrush.
ā€œI could tickle these feet of yours forever, and youā€™d still be begging for more. Wouldnā€™t you, darling? I mean look at your cock. I bet youā€™re just dying to tell me how much you love being tickled by your fur mistress.ā€ Ms. R. teased, her words were a mix of taunting and affection, designed to keep Zack on the edge, both mentally and physically.
She resumed the tickling, her nails lightly brushing the sole of his foot she wasnā€™t brushing, adding a new layer of sensation to the ongoing torment. The combination of sensations drove Zack to new heights of ticklish agony, every nerve ending on fire with the intensity of her touch.
As she continued her merciless tickling, she added, ā€œYouā€™re my perfect little tickle toy. How does it feel to be so thoroughly and completely dominated by ticklish sensations? Just imagine how much more I could make you laugh if I really tried. I bet you didnā€™t expect this kind of treatment when you walked into the convention,ā€ she teased. ā€œBut look at you now, helpless, laughing uncontrollably, teased by the fur stole on your face.ā€
Ms. R. lifted her hands, halting the relentless scrubbing and scribbling. Zackā€™s breaths came in ragged gasps, his body still trembling from the intensity of the tickling. She leaned back slightly, savoring the sight of his disheveled state, his face flushed and his eyes wide behind the fur stole.
She rose gracefully, her movements smooth as she walked back over to Zack. She dragged her chair along with her, the fur boots softly thumping against the floor with each step. The subtle sound seemed to echo in the quiet room, adding to the charged atmosphere. Once she reached him, she set the chair down with a deliberate motion, positioning it right next to where Zack was bound.
She reached over, her fingers deftly untangling the knot, and removed the stole from Zackā€™s face. The plush fur brushed lightly against his skin one last time before she pulled it away, revealing Zackā€™s flushed, panting face. Her gaze met his, a mischievous yet sympathetic smirk spreading on her lips as she took in his expression.
Ms. R. glanced at the stole, noticing it was damp from Zackā€™s sweat and the tears of laughter that had soaked into it. With a smirk, she casually discarded it, tossing it over her shoulder. "Looks like someone had quite the workout," she teased, her voice dripping with playful mockery. "But donā€™t worry, darling, Iā€™ve got plenty more where that came from."
Ms. R. sauntered over to a nearby table, where a sleek, black toolbox sat. With a dramatic flourish, she opened it, revealing an array of tickling toolsā€”feathers, brushes, vibrating tools, and other tickling instruments neatly arranged inside.
She dragged the toolbox over to Zack, positioning it within his view. "But now, darling," she purred, her tone both commanding and teasing, "since you've been such a good tickle toy, Iā€™ll let you choose how you'd like to be tickled next. Which tool have you only dreamed about being tickled with? Go on, pick your poison."
Zack's breath came in heavy, ragged gasps, his mind reeling from the intensity of the tickling. As he tried to focus through the haze of his sensations, he recalled the many fantasies he had indulged in. Among them, one particular tool stood out. Something that had always intrigued and aroused him whenever he saw it used.
Finally, summoning all his remaining strength, he managed to stammer out, "A f-f-f-feather duster..."
Ms. R. smiled, clearly pleased with Zack's choice. "A feather duster, hmm? How delightful," she cooed, her voice dripping with anticipation. ā€œSomething like this?ā€
She reached into the toolbox and picked up a massive, elegant feather duster. Its head was adorned with an enormous bundle of the longest and softest ostrich feathers. Zack had never seen anything like it. It was like out of a dreamā€¦ or a nightmare.
She swirled the duster in the air, letting the feathers billow and catch the light. ā€œIsnā€™t it just exquisite?ā€ she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. ā€œI canā€™t wait to see how this tickles.ā€
Ms. R. moved with an air of practiced grace as she lowered the feather duster toward Zack's quivering stomach. The feathers brushed against his skin with an exquisite lightness, teasing and tantalizing as they made contact. The tendrils dragged along his shivering flesh, eliciting electric tingling in their wake.
Each pass seemed to amplify the ticklish sensations, making his laughter bubble up. The tickling was both maddening yet arousing, the delicate feathers providing an intense contrast to the rougher tools he had experienced earlier. Zackā€™s aching manhood stood firm, pulsating with every ticklish swipe of the duster.
Ms. R. swiped the feather duster all over Zack's exposed torso, its soft, teasing strands skimming across his skin with an unrelenting, gentle drag. Her right hand worked the duster in broad, sweeping motions, spreading the ticklish sensations across his quivering body. Meanwhile, her left hand began to scribble her nails along his sides, the sharp, tickling contact contrasting sharply with the softness of the duster.
Ms. R. continued her tickle talk. ā€œCoochie coochie coo, tickle boy,ā€ she said with a mischievous lilt, her voice dripping with teasing affection. ā€œThis fluffy tickle monsterā€™s gonna get ya.ā€ Her words were accompanied by relentless swipes of the feather duster and rapid scribbles of her nails.
The feathers danced across Zack's skin like a fluffy tickle tsunami. They traced a path up his body, gliding along his right arm before crossing over his chest. She made sure to give his face a few playful tickles with the feather duster, the soft brush lightly grazing his cheeks and nose, before shifting it to his left arm. Each stroke and touch was designed to extort maximum laughter and arousal, intensifying the thrilling torment as she continued her playful assault.
Zackā€™s cock dripped with precum, as the duster fluttered back down Zack's left side, the soft feathers tickling his quivering form. Ms. R. paused her scribbling, her focus now entirely on the delicate, teasing movements of the duster. The feathers moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, sweeping down his side and occasionally flicking back up to repeat the tantalizing motion.
Ms. R. rose gracefully to stand, maintaining her focused, teasing demeanor. She maneuvered the feather duster with an elegant sweep, guiding it across Zackā€™s underbelly and along his waistline, the feathers brushing lightly but persistently over the sensitive areas above his hard display of arousal.
Ms. R. leaned in closer, her voice dripping with mock sweetness as she continued to maneuver the feather duster over Zackā€™s sensitive skin. ā€œWhat do you think about the duster, darling?ā€ she purred, her tone both teasing and seductive. ā€œSo big and fluffy and ticklish. Does it feel as good as you dreamed? Are you enjoying the way it tickles? The way the feathers caress you, covering you in their ticklish cloud?ā€
ā€œItā€™s sohohohohoho bihihihigā€¦ It feels so gohohohohohohoodā€¦ā€ Zack giggled, getting a break from the maddening laughter from before.
Ms. R. let out a soft, satisfied chuckle as she heard Zackā€™s response. ā€œIā€™m glad you think so,ā€ she teased, her voice laced with pleasure at his reaction. ā€œThe duster really knows how to get every last tickle spot, doesnā€™t it? I must say, youā€™re quite the delight as my tickle toy.ā€
ā€œPleahahahahaseā€¦ Please let me cum againā€¦ā€ he pleaded, feeling his cock aching and begging for release moment by moment.
Ms. R. paused the dusting for a moment, her playful expression shifting to a more thoughtful one as she assessed Zack's reactions. She walked over to between his legs, her movements confident and purposeful with her fur-clad figure casting a shadow over his vulnerable position.
She let her eyes drift down to Zackā€™s bulging crotch, her expression both intrigued and amused. ā€œAre you ready to see what this duster is really capable of?ā€ she asked teasingly, her voice dripping with playful intent.
With that, she began lowering the feather duster, the massive plumes of ostrich feathers drifting ever closer to Zackā€™s most sensitive area. Ms. R. wiggled the duster as she inched closer, teasing him with the fluttering feathers, promising a sensational tickle. The anticipation was almost unbearable, each moment feeling drawn out as Zackā€™s heart pounded in his chest.
The soft tips of the feathers finally brushed against his privates, and the sensation was potent. Zack watched as his entire crotch was covered in a sea of fluttering ostrich feathers. His entire body tensed as the gentle, teasing touch sent waves of intense sensation coursing through him.
Ms. R. giggled, watching Zackā€™s reactions to her ticklish dusting. She found it amusing how Zack couldnā€™t decide whether to moan or laugh. It tickled but felt so pleasurable. Ms. R. found another opportunity to tease her sweet little tickle victim. ā€œYou know this duster is so big and unnecessarily fluffy. Itā€™s so impractical for cleaning shelves and whatnot.ā€ she analyzed. ā€œI think it was made exactly for this, darling. To teaseā€¦ To pleasureā€¦ To tickleā€¦ā€
And tickle it did.
Zack couldnā€™t help but squirm in his binds as his entire lower body radiated with intense, pleasurable, ticklish tingles. Zack couldnā€™t see them, but his privates were somewhere in thereā€“in the storm of fluttering ticklish feathers. All he knew was that they were being subjected to a thorough, intense, ticklish dusting.
Zackā€™s moans were punctuated by intermittent giggles, his body writhing with every brush of the feather duster against his sensitive crotch. The sensations were a potent blend of ticklish and arousing, causing him to squirm helplessly. He was nearing a second ticklegasm each secondā€“every swipe of the feather duster made his cock quiver and pulsate.
Ms. R.ā€™s voice was a soothing murmur as she continued to tease him. ā€œThere you goā€¦ tickle, tickleā€¦ā€ she cooed, her tone soft, barely above a whisper. The feathers fluttered over Zackā€™s sensitive skin, amplifying his moans and giggles. She maintained a steady, rhythmic motion, ensuring that every inch of his genitals was covered in the gentle, maddening touch of the duster. The duster was so big that its feathers even reached to tickle his inner thighs quite a bit.
ā€œCum for meā€¦ā€ Ms. R. urged, her voice a sultry whisper. ā€œThe duster, the feathers, the ticklingā€¦ It feels so goodā€¦ā€ She continued to gently stroke Zack with the feather duster, her words dripping with seductive encouragement. ā€œLet go, darlingā€¦ Let it tickleā€¦ Let the pleasure overwhelm youā€¦ā€
Zack's body tensed, his breath hitching as he felt the overwhelming climax approach. His eyes rolled back, and with a shuddering release, he let go, the intense sensations of the duster and feathers pushing him over the edge.
Seeing this, Ms. R. quickly uncovered his cock from the feather ocean and quickly grabbed it, holding it in a firm grip. She pumped it up and down, helping Zack shoot loads of cum. She didnā€™t stop tickling, however. Her dusting focused on his testicles and taint, as she gave him mid-orgasm handjob.
Ms. R. continued to softly tease and coax, her voice a gentle, coaxing murmur. ā€œThatā€™s it, darlingā€¦ Just like thatā€¦ Tickle, tickleā€¦ā€ Her words were like a comforting caress, guiding Zack through the intense sensations and helping him to ride out the waves of his release.
Zackā€™s yell echoed through the room, a raw, primal sound that mixed with his intense release. His body convulsed as he experienced the full force of his climax, the feather duster's soft touch making the moment all the more intense.
Zackā€™s breath came in loud, ragged pants as he finished, his chest heaving with each breath. The intensity of the experience left him feeling both drained and exhilarated. His body trembled slightly, and the aftershocks of pleasure made his muscles quiver. He could feel the heat lingering in his cheeks and the sweat that had collected on his forehead.
Ms. R. strolled over to the stocks and carefully released Zackā€™s feet, her movements slow and gentle. She then moved to unfasten the straps securing his arms, her touch reassuring. As she freed him from the restraints, she offered a soft, satisfied smile, clearly pleased with the session and Zack's response.
ā€œYou did well, darling,ā€ Ms. R. said softly, her voice filled with approval. She gently brushed a strand of hair from Zackā€™s face, her touch tender. ā€œYou were wonderful. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.ā€
ā€œThat wasā€¦ intenseā€¦ā€ Zack managed to say, his voice still slightly shaky. He looked at Ms. R. with a mixture of exhaustion and relief, trying to process the whirlwind of sensations and emotions he had just experienced.ā€
ā€œI know,ā€ she said softly, caressing his cheek. ā€œBut arenā€™t you glad I helped you face your fantasy?ā€ Her gaze was warm and reassuring, offering a comforting presence after the intense experience.
ā€œYesā€¦ā€ he answered.
Ms. R. offered with a warm, inviting smile, "Would you like some aftercare in my furs? It might be a comforting way to wind down after everything." She gestured to the luxurious fur garments draped nearby, her tone soothing and considerate. ā€œYou find my furs arousing too, do you not?ā€
Zack nodded.
Ms. R. helped Zack to his feet, guiding him gently toward the plush fur bed in her stall. The surface was filled with luxurious fur, offering an inviting and comforting space. She discarded her finn raccoon coat, opting for her new ensembleā€”a massive golden island fox coat that shimmered with an elegant sheen. Over it, she draped a long fur stole made of the same sumptuous material.
With a playful push, she gently guided Zack onto the fur bed, letting him sink into the soft, opulent furs. She then settled beside him, enveloping him in the rich, soft fur, her touch soothing and affectionate as she helped him unwind from the intense experience.Ā 
As she carefully wrapped him in the furs, she continued to speak in a soothing tone. ā€œThere you go, darling. Just relax and let the softness of the furs soothe you. You did wonderfully, and now you deserve to be pampered. Take your time to unwind.ā€
Ms. R. reached over for a nearby double-sided silver fox wrap, its luxurious texture shimmering in the light. She handed it to Zack with a gentle smile. ā€œHere, darling. Wrap yourself in this exquisite fur. Feel its incredible softness against your skin. Let it envelop you completely and caress you with its gentle touch.ā€
Zack took the silver fox wrap and wrapped it around himself, burying his face and body in its luxurious softness. He rubbed the fur all over, letting the silky texture glide over his skin. The warmth and comfort of the wrap provided a soothing contrast to the intense tickling he had just experienced.
Ms. R. purred softly as she scooted closer to Zack, her presence warm and intimate. She gently stroked the luxurious fur around him, her fingers gliding over the silver fox wrap. ā€œYou look so relaxed and content,ā€ she said, her tone filled with warmth. Leaning right next to his ear, she grabbed the end of her fur stole and brushed it delicately against his jaw. Her breath was hot against his ear as she whispered, ā€œTell meā€¦ How does the fur feel?ā€
Zack let out a sigh of pleasure, his voice soft and relaxed. ā€œIt feels amazingā€¦ so soft and warm. Itā€™s like being wrapped in a cloud. Iā€™ve never felt anything like this before.ā€ He snuggled closer into the fur, his body responding to the comforting embrace. The stole teasing his face gave him shivers, its fur gently tickling his jawline.
Ms. R. smiled warmly, pleased by Zackā€™s reaction. She continued to caress the fur around him, her touch gentle and reassuring. ā€œIā€™m so glad youā€™re enjoying it,ā€ she murmured. ā€œThe fur has a way of comforting and indulging all the senses, doesnā€™t it? Just relax and let it all sink in.ā€
Zack was enveloped in the plush warmth of the fur, every movement causing the luxurious fabric to shift and brush against his skin. The layers of fur on the bed felt like a soft, comforting embrace, cocooning him in a world of sensory delight. Each subtle movement stirred the fur, creating a soothing rustle that added to the overall sensation of being wrapped in comfort.
Zack let out a soft chuckle. ā€œThe fur kinda ticklesā€¦ā€ he noted, his voice a mix of amusement and contentment. As he spoke, he continued to rub the silver fox wrap against his skin, his hands gliding over the plush surface. The sensation of the fur brushing against his body sent delightful shivers through him.
Ms. R. smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with a mix of satisfaction and amusement. ā€œIt does, doesnā€™t it?ā€ she said softly. ā€œFur has a way of both comforting and teasing the senses. Itā€™s one of the reasons I love it so much.ā€
She leaned closer, brushing her fingers lightly along the fur on Zack. ā€œDoes it make you feel more relaxed, or does it add a bit of excitement?ā€ she asked, her voice warm and inviting. ā€œDoes the fur arouse you? Does the softness and the warmth excite you?ā€
He nodded.
ā€œFeel the fur, darlingā€¦ Sink into itā€¦ Let it take overā€¦ I want you to feel every single hair brushing you, gliding on your skin, teasing youā€¦ I want you to feel the tickle of it, darlingā€¦ Embrace the tickleā€¦ā€ Ms. R. urged, blowing into his ear.
Zackā€™s body responded instinctively to Ms. R.ā€™s words and touch. He let out a soft, contented sigh as he felt the fur gliding across his skin, each movement amplifying the sensations. ā€œIā€™m really feeling it,ā€ he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of relaxation and excitement. ā€œThe furā€¦ itā€™s so soft and warm, but the way it tickles is justā€¦ amazing.ā€
He buried himself deeper into the fur, allowing it to surround him completely. ā€œI can feel every single hairā€¦ Itā€™s like a gentle caress that keeps teasing and comforting me at the same time. Itā€™s exactly what I needed.ā€
Ms. R. noticed Zackā€™s growing arousal as he lay in the sea of fur, and she let out a soft, knowing chuckle. ā€œIt seems the fur is having quite an effect on you,ā€ she murmured, her tone playful yet soothing. ā€œItā€™s not surprising, really. The way it tickles and teases, itā€™s only natural to feel this way.ā€ She continued to stroke the fur around him, her touch light and reassuring. ā€œJust let yourself enjoy the moment, darling. Thereā€™s no rush, no pressure. Just you and the fur, allowing yourself to fully experience the pleasure and relaxation.ā€
ā€œC-c-c-could you?ā€ Zack stammered.
ā€œCould I what, darling?ā€ she asked, her tone soothing and encouraging. ā€œTell me what you need. Iā€™m here to make sure youā€™re comfortable and content.ā€
ā€œT-t-the stoleā€¦ Could you?ā€ he added, his request still incoherent.
ā€œThe stole? This is golden island fox fur. Itā€™s so softā€¦ and itā€™s double sided.ā€ Ms. R. purred as she stroked the stole up and down. ā€œWhat about the stole, darling?ā€
Zackā€™s voice trembled with a mix of anticipation and shyness. ā€œCould youā€¦ could you use the stole on me? You knowā€¦ā€ he finally managed to articulate, his cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and excitement.
Ms. R. understood Zackā€™s request and with a knowing smile, she gracefully rose up and straddled him. The golden island fox stole was draped over her shoulders, its luxurious tails brushing against Zackā€™s skin as she positioned herself carefully.Ā 
She leaned forward, her breath warm against Zackā€™s ear. ā€œDo you want the ultimate fur tickle?ā€ she asked, her voice a sultry whisper. Her hands continued their gentle caress, the golden island fox stole grazing tantalizingly over his skin as she moved.
ā€œPleaseā€¦ā€
Ms. R. backed up and positioned herself between Zackā€™s legs, her movements seductive and graceful. As she settled into place, she ensured that her body was close enough to provide a continuous, teasing contact. With a soft, teasing smile, she reached for the golden island fox stole around her shoulders and removed it. She gave it a teasing stroke before grabbing its end and brushing it up Zackā€™s taint, between his balls and along the shaft.
Zack's body tensed and shivered as the luxurious fur of the stole made contact with his sensitive skin. The softness of the golden island fox fur glided smoothly over his taint, brushing along the sensitive area between his balls and up the shaft. The gentle, teasing strokes of the fur felt exquisitely stimulating, causing his breath to catch and his hips to involuntarily twitch.
He felt Ms. R. wrapping the impossibly soft stole around his cock. The fur enveloped him in a cocoon of arousing softness, each movement of the stole against his sensitive skin sending waves of pleasure through his body. Every single fur follicle worked their magic on his sensitive flesh, teasing him in the most hellishly pleasurable way. Thenā€¦
Pumpā€¦
Pumpā€¦
Pumpā€¦
Ms. R.'s stole began its caress, wrapping around Zack's cock with a rhythmic, pleasurable motion. As she began to pump the stole up and down, the soft fur created a friction that was both incredibly arousing and soothing. Each stroke was accompanied by the whisper of the fur against his skin, amplifying his pleasure with every movement.
Zack moaned loudly, feeling the fur stole brushing up and down his throbbing manhood. The way it brushedā€¦ The way it tickledā€¦ The way it pleasedā€¦ It created an almost overwhelming sensation of pleasure that left Zack feeling like he was floating in a state of pure, blissful ecstasy. He was in Heaven.
Ms. R. giggled softly, her voice a mix of satisfaction and amusement. ā€œIā€™m glad youā€™re enjoying this, darling,ā€ she purred, her tone dripping with playful satisfaction. ā€œThe stole feels just as amazing as you imagined, doesnā€™t it?ā€ She continued to move the fur with a gentle rhythm, ensuring that each stroke provided the maximum pleasure and teasing.
Zack nodded vigorously, his eyes rolling back as waves of intense furry pleasure surged through him. Each touch of the fur stole sent shivers down his spine, the sensation almost overwhelming. He was lost in the sensation, completely consumed by the exquisite combination of softness and stimulation.
Ms. R. asked with a playful lilt, her voice soft and teasing. ā€œDoes it tickle, darling?ā€ She continued to stroke the fur stole over Zackā€™s sensitive skin, her touch both teasing and comforting.
Nod.
Ms. R. maintained her teasing touch, her eyes glinting with mischief. ā€œDoes it feel as good as you hoped it would?ā€ she asked, her voice dripping with seduction. ā€œAre you enjoying every moment of this?ā€
Nod.
ā€œLet it carry you awayā€¦ the sensationā€¦ the pleasureā€¦ Let go totally, darling. Nothing else exists for you, except the heavenly, soft, ticklish, lovely, pleasurable fur stole on your cock.ā€ Ms. R. urged, slowing her furjob down slightly. ā€œYour entire existence is furā€¦ furā€¦ furā€¦ Youā€™re covered by it: its softness, its warmth, its touchā€¦ Thereā€™s nothing elseā€“only soft pleasure.ā€
As Ms. R. continued her teasing, her strokes becoming more calculated and pleasing, Zack felt the pressure building intensely within him for the third time. The soft, tantalizing brush of the fur stole against his sensitive skin pushed him toward the edge. He could hardly contain the overwhelming sensations, his body trembling with the anticipation of his impending climax.
Ms. R. leaned closer, her voice a sultry purr as she continued her teasing pumps. ā€œYouā€™re so close, darling,ā€ she purred, her breath warm against his skin. ā€œI can feel how much youā€™re enjoying this. Just let go. Embrace it. Let the fur and the pleasure take over completely. Cum for meā€¦ Cum for your fur goddessā€¦ā€
Zackā€™s body convulsed with pleasure as he let go for the third time that evening, his orgasm intense and overwhelming. Hot streams of cum erupted from his throbbing cock as Ms. R. delivered the final stroke of her soft, luxurious golden island fox fur stole. She smiled with satisfaction, watching him surrender completely to the blissful sensations she had so expertly created.
Zack twisted and squirmed beneath the immense layers of fur that draped over his body. The overwhelming softness brushing against his sensitive skin sent shivers through him, even after his release. Every movement made the furs caress him further, heightening his sensitivity as he tried to regain control over his trembling body.
As Zack lay there, utterly spent from the powerful furgasm, his body was still enveloped by the luxurious furs, their softness a gentle contrast to the intense sensations that had just coursed through him. His breathing was heavy, each inhale bringing with it the familiar warmth of the fur surrounding him. His body tingled with the lingering aftermath of pleasure, the softness of the fur still teasing his skin.Ā 
Ms. R. moved back over to straddle Zack and gently stroked his cheek, her touch tender. ā€œYou did so well, darling,ā€ she whispered, her voice soothing. She moved a bunch of fur that covered Zackā€™s torso aside, letting him breathe.
ā€œThank you,ā€ Zack murmured, his voice still heavy with exhaustion and contentment. ā€œThat wasā€¦ incredible.ā€
Ms. R. smiled warmly, continuing to caress Zack's cheek. ā€œYou did so well, darling. Iā€™m glad you enjoyed every moment.ā€ As she spoke, her fingers trailed softly down his sides, brushing lightly against his ribs.
Her touch became more mischievous as she squinted her eyes and moved her hands towards his armpits, her fingers wiggling playfully. ā€œBut you know,ā€ she said with a teasing grin, ā€œthereā€™s still a little bit of ticklish fun left to be had.ā€
She began to scribble her nails in his vulnerable armpits once again, making Zackā€™s ticklish laughter fill the hall once again.
ā€œHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
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nostrildamus Ā· 2 years ago
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new kind of gal just dropped: giant! sneezer who WILL threaten you with her nose and WILL sneeze you into oblivion if she doesnā€™t get her way (or even if she does, sheā€™s got a sensitive nose).
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jenfoundabug Ā· 10 months ago
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Non biting midge (Chironomidae) resting after a morning rain.
Thereā€™s been a lot these guys in the field (with swampy area) near where I live. Adult midges tend to not live very long, so many species form swarms of mostly males near habitat suitable for their aquatic larvae. It is thought that the males swarm to attract more females to an area.
This individual is most likely a male because of his large feathery antennae. Hereā€™s a close-up:
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dougielombax Ā· 13 days ago
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Needlessly sinister feather duster.
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holosart Ā· 11 months ago
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Some OCs I made for funsies, Feather Duster, Dust Bunny & Mop Top. Together they are... The Dust Busters! (Thats their company name :P)
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snowy-bones Ā· 1 year ago
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Dreamswap Sans? (This anon does not remember their name offhand) šŸŒø
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we have many names for this man, golden goose just happens to be one of them! Dreamswap belongs to onebizarrekai
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i-only-ever-asked-questions Ā· 1 year ago
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The feather duster is in both posters!
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dxrkl1ght Ā· 1 year ago
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bops you on the head gently with a feather duster
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bops you
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cozyandwarmm Ā· 2 years ago
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Presenting the most underrated tickling tool:
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āœØļøFeather dustersāœØļø
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the-daily-gizloaf Ā· 1 year ago
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Nilah is here to demonstrate another skill of hers: a feather duster tail! Uses include looking extra fancy, lavishly decorating the carpet with freshly shed fur, and, of course, it makes a handy feather duster in a pinch! [The last skill is for professionals only. DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.]
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transhawks Ā· 2 years ago
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Y'know I gotta šŸ„ŗ ShigaHawks, my skrunkly featherdusters whom I'm still waiting on a meeting for šŸ˜”
They're never gonna meet at this point what a fucking waste. Oh well, we have fanfics. Also I have a Shigaraki Hawks ask in my inbox I'm working on!!!
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wonderlandcasino Ā· 2 years ago
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I forgor to post this last night but here the first sketchy doodle of 2023!!! haven't had the chance to color yet but I wanna! A couple girls in the maid staff at Barnabas's Casino! Left - Older tired Feather duster woman who is tired of customers not cleaning bc " the maid will do it " Right - thicc soft lady made out of buttermilk. She's the one tucking bedsheets too tight.
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monkeyssalad-blog Ā· 2 months ago
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Hispania Simil, Gamuza.
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Hispania Simil, Gamuza. by Halloween HJB
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sandyspaghettibag Ā· 10 months ago
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This is the introduction (take two)
HEY. Hi tumblr and anyone who may be reading this on any other thing, I am SandySpaghettiBag and I will be blessing your eyes and ears with beautiful posts that will absolutely rock your world (and mine!!! like a shared experience) my therapist is on a little break so I didn't have any pushback against making another tumblr after evacuating my other one over a year ago (more on that soon I'm sure!) so HERE I AM HONEY BUNS. I'm also single and that will be a recurring theme in my posts that I will love to look at decades into the future when I need to see what I was doing as a little sucker who absolutely demolished and slayed his digital footprint šŸ’‹ this is gonna be goodā€¦
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