A Sonnet about Tickling

You lie, stretched out, upon the double bed.
The ropes are tied around the wooden frame.
You wonder what the rules are to this game,
As then I wrap the blindfold round your head.
Your nervousness builds up with your desire,
The expectation filling you with dread.
Tensed toes are wiggling as you respire ...

... I touch. You gasp. Your tethered foot responds.
A jerk; it can't escape the ties that keep
Your body taut. Another stroke. You leap
As best you can within your loving bonds.
How long this torture lasts depends on me.
No silent prayers, nor magic spells nor wands
Will stop you laughing heartily with glee.

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