Ben slowly became aware of his bed, his room, and the sounds coming from without. It was Sunday morning, and his mother and sister were getting ready for church. In three hours he would have to be at Carol's. He groaned at the thought, still tired from his late night out.
It had been at least two years since he had gone to church regularly. He had stopped going simply because he had found it dull. Shortly thereafter, though, the chance to roam freely through the house and experiment with new ways to pleasure himself became the primary reason for staying behind.
Recently, his job at Carol's had changed things. The opportunity to play at her house reduced the special importance of his Sunday mornings alone, and as often as not he used the time for some extra sleep.
He heard the two of them leave. He wanted to go back to sleep, but his bladder had a different agenda. He staggered off to the bathroom, fully intending to return to bed afterward, but his mind started rolling over the events of the previous day and he became so excited that he decided to stay up and pursue some of his old pleasures.
He started with his mother's underwear drawer, and to his great delight, he found something new. It was a pair of pedipants, long legged shorts that functioned as a slip, made of black nylon with a little lace at the bottom of each leg. He pulled them on, and found the sensation of the nylon rubbing against his bare cock most pleasing.
He walked around the little apartment, intent on feeling what a woman would feel and hoping that it might be as erotic for her as it was for him. He became erect at once, his cock extending down his left thigh, and as he walked around it felt wonderful to have the nylon sliding up and down the long hard shaft.
Next he raided his sister's closet, taking out the fancy white dress she wore to church on special occasions. It was mostly chiffon, two layers over a white satin lining, with a fitted bodice and a very full skirt. He could just squeeze into it if her left the back unzipped. He slipped off the pedipants and pulled on the dress, shuddering as the cool satin slid over his bare skin.
He walked around the apartment again, thinking about the women he had seen the night before, feeling his cock rubbing against the satin and wondering if they enjoyed the feeling of their clothes as much as he did. He decided that her liked the nylon better, so he put the pedipants back on under the dress.
He went into his mother's bedroom and stood in front of her full length mirror. He looked as ridiculous as he had at Carol's, but tried to imagine that his reflection was that of a lovely young girl. He struck a pose with his arms held over his head and, thinking about what Carol had said, imagined that the girl in the mirror was being tickled. He squirmed around, trying to look like a struggling victim trying desperately to evade the torture she was being subjected to. He wished that he could hear her laughter, mixed with cries of anguish, but even in silence the sight made him horny as hell.
Although the image in the mirror was almost real, he couldn't touch it, and he made about the ugliest girl imaginable.
He knew of a way to touch a much more feminine form, and while still not completely satisfying it had stirred him to a frenzy several times before. His sister had a modest Barbie doll set, just one doll and some clothes, which was all they could afford.
He went to his sister's room, took down the box from the shelf in her closet, and carried it to the dining table. He selected a long formal gown of light blue satin and dressed her in it, pretending that it was made of qiana like so many he has seen the night before. He raised the doll's arms up and pretended that she was tied that way, then set about tickling and rubbing her in all the best places.
In the past he would have been much more brutal, spanking the doll's plastic ass with a chopstick or pinching its nipple-less breasts with tweezers. His talk with Carol and his experience strung up in her bedroom had given him a new outlook. What he wanted now was to re-enact with the doll what Carol had done to him.
For a while he was content with diddling the doll with his fingers and enjoying the look and feel of his sister's dress, but he soon found that he wanted to see the doll tied up. He fetched a ball of heavy string, but for a moment he was at a loss as to what to tie her to. Then he got the idea of using one of the dining set chairs. He placed one on the table, then tied a piece of string around the doll's wrists and tied the other end to the steel tubing that supported the back. Then he tied the doll's ankles to a chopstick, and he had a fairly good representation of how he must have looked to Carol.
He began again caressing the doll's voluptuous figure, imagining that it was really Christine, who was enjoying what he did to her as much as he had enjoyed his experience at Carol's. His dick swelled to mighty proportions beneath it's nylon shroud, and he could feel the nylon rubbing against it as he moved, gently urging him on. After many long minutes of tickling he couldn't resist the temptation to spank her, but he used his fingertip as if it were his palm. He began to alternate tickling with spanking, and even pretended to pinch her nipples. He writhed and shuddered as he hoped his playmate would, sending more waves of pleasure from the tip of his dick as it stroked against the nylon.
He wanted to jerk off right then and there, but there were other things he wanted to try and he fought off the urge. He decided it was time to put Barbie away, and move on to something else.
He took the dress off, then the pedipants, and went back to his mother's chest of drawers and took out her best full length slip. Ever since his discovery of Carol's qiana dresses he regretted that neither his sister or mother owned one. A slip was as close as he could get.
He stood again in front of the mirror, imagining that it was the girl he had seen in the elevator the night before that he was tickling. This time he used his own fingers to tickle himself, and as he had hoped the feeling of the nylon brushing against his body did a nice job of enhancing the effect. He imagined that the girl liked what he was doing to her, that it aroused her in a way she had never felt before. He imagined that she was wickedly ticklish, that the feel of the dress on her bare skin was a turn-on all by itself, and that the more he tickled her the more she wanted. He imagined her very close to coming, and that all he had to do was tickle her cunt and she would go over the edge. He reached down and lightly stroked his cock through the slip, imagining that it was her cunt he was tickling through her silky nylon dress. It felt good enough as it was, but in his fantasy the girl began to scream and shudder into a toe bending, gut wrenching orgasm.
He left the bedroom to fetch four clean towels from the bathroom and the feather duster from the kitchen. He took his sister's dress, stuffed a pillow inside it and zipped up the back. He laid it out carefully on his mother's bed, then rolled up each towel and arranged them to look like arms and legs, posed so that it looked as if a girl were tied spread-eagled on the bed. Then, trying his best to imagine that the headless, lumpy thing was a girl, he knelt beside her on the bed and set about tickling her.
He started with his fingers, tickling her under her arms and along her ribs, moving slowly towards her breasts, drawing it out, teasing her with anticipation. He paid close attention to how the chiffon felt on his fingertips, and the feeling of his cock hanging down, the tip brushing against the nylon slip.
After a long spell torturing her breasts he moved down to her knees, then slowly worked his way up her thighs, tickling the inside where it she was most sensitive, gradually approaching her crotch. He knew that she wanted desperately for him to touch her there, to rub her and give her the release she craved. But when he got there her used the lightest possible pressure, and to her surprise she was more ticklish there than anyplace else.
His cock was throbbing. Every move he made caused it to rub across the slip, bathing him in delicate pleasure. The feeling of the nylon all over his body, especially his ass, added to his pleasure, as did the thought that any woman who wore underwear like this would feel the same thing.
As he teased his victim's cunt he felt a little wetness around the tip of his cock. He was ready to explode, and wanted nothing as much as to reach down and stroke it with his fist. He fought the temptation, forcing himself to endure the wait just as he was the girl beside him.
He gently lifted the chiffon skirt, exposing the satin underneath, which he imagined was her bare skin. He took the feather duster and began stroking the satin, imagining his victim writhing in anguish and howling with laughter. After a long stint of tickling her thighs he pressed the satin down between the towels to form a kind of crotch. Then he went to work with the feathers, brushing her there and imagining that it made his victim hysterical while slowly bringing her to orgasm.
He couldn't hold back any longer, and, hoisting up the slip, he pulled out his dick and began stroking it with his fist. Within seconds he filled his palm with gobs of sticky, warm cum, and he fell exhausted next to his satin dummy.
When he finally came to he put everything away, except for the pedipants. These he wanted to wear again, so he hid them with his leotard. Then he put on his work clothes and went to catch the bus to Carol's.