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the chain.

“Tickle rules,” I tell her as I smooth her pink satin blindfold over her eyes. “You can squeal and giggle as much as you want, but I don’t want to hear any words unless you’re saying ‘yellow’ because you need me to check on you or ‘red’ because something’s gone wrong and you need the scene to stop while I fix it. Understand?”

She nods eagerly.

“You know better than to orgasm without permission. If you feel yourself getting close and can’t stop, I want to hear ‘yellow.’ I’m telling you the consequences now for breaking that rule because I don’t want you surprised by it later when you’re coming off a real punishment. Come without permission and it’s three strikes with the Delrin rod, and you can bet they won’t be on that soft little bum. Understood?”

If anything, her nod is even more eager. She can see I’m giving her an out. She has come before from a tickling, although admittedly I was also fingering her at the time. Still, she’s had nothing like her normal quota of orgasms in the last twenty-four hours and she has a wonderfully greedy little pussy, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the tickling pushes her to the edge. Normally, I’d just give her blanket permission to orgasm during the scene, because Emily doesn’t kink on orgasm denial and I don’t want to risk her breaking another rule while she’s still healing. But the idea of her climaxing under another Dom’s hands makes my gut twist. Either she’s picking up on that, or she doesn’t want pleasure at anyone else’s hands, either.

“Last rule, baby doll, and that’s to enjoy your little self. This scene is just for fun. You’ve earned it by being my very good girl since your punishment. You know I like you to feel my control during scenes and you’re too bruised for any hardware, so I’m controlling your speech, but otherwise, let go and enjoy yourself. Even when it’s not my fingers tickling you, I’ll still be watching and I still hold you in my hands.”

I lean forward and kiss her forehead, then climb off the bed. Only to find the room has gone very quiet. All eyes without blindfolds are on me.

Jiro breaks the silence first. “Those are excellent rules, Logan. Petto, no words except yellow or red and no unsanctioned orgasms.” He pats Laurel’s calf. “Otherwise, enjoy yourself. Lift your legs in the air, ankles touching. I want first shot at those feet.”

There’s murmured agreement around the room from the other Doms as they bind their subs in a circle around the chain. It’s a circle of unusually silent subs, although Emily’s already giggling softly, my giddy little girl. Because of Ten’s insistence that Hunter participate, we’ve got an even number of Doms and subs, so we pair up naturally, with each Dom standing at the feet of their chained sub. I pull out my phone, tap up a timed playlist that I created for doing impact scenes with Emily, and set it down next to my toy bag.

Siri’s disembodied voice says “One,” before the fast rat-a-tat-tat of New Order’s “Blue Monday” begins.

Across the bed, Javier says to Ten, “Could be worse.”

Ten nods. “Could be the Bangles.”

Theo joins in. “Bet Michael Jackson is on there.”

Bastards. “Beat It” is in the playlist.

“Who invited you to my scene anyway?” I grumble.

Javier chuckles. “Does Siri count out the minutes?”

“Yeah. We’ll swap every other minute, moving clockwise around the bed.”

“Works for me,” Javier says. “Hunter, offer me your feet and stop whining.”

Hunter raises his feet, although I can still hear him whimpering over the music. Podophilia isn’t a hard limit for him; I’ve done enough scenes with him to have memorized his limit list. I guess he just has very sensitive toes.

Emily’s feet are wonderfully ticklish, too, but I know a spot that’s even more sensitive. I crawl up the bed on my knees and run the backs of my fingers up the sides of her neck. She squeals and begins writhing against the cuffs.

To my right, Jiro has come up with the brilliant twist of cable-tying Laurel’s big toes together. He’s tickling between them as she wails wordlessly.

To my left, Theo’s still torturing DirtyGurl. He’s stuffing her socks into her mouth while she thrashes in protest. As he leans over her, he tells her he’s going to tickle her until she’s lying in a puddle of her own piss. I hope that’s just a mindfuck. If he’s actually going to do it, I’m moving Emily to the other side of the bed.

I move down from Emily’s neck to her underarms, exposed by the bondage, and start with my fingertips before leaning in to breathe on her skin, before I blow a raspberry in each pit. Her giggles escalate to wild squeals again.

One of the wonderful things about having Emily blindfolded is that she doesn’t know where I’m going to attack next. To keep her guessing, I move swiftly to her ribs, just above her hip bones, and go to town. Emily’s bucking up off the bed, her face brilliant red, tears of laughter darkening the blindfold, when Siri says, “Three.”

I’ll get her feet on the next go.

I move to DirtyGurl and spare a moment to wish I’d read her limits list recently. She’s an experienced sub; she’ll use her safe word if I make her too uncomfortable, but I play it safe and pull the socks out of her mouth before I tickle the backs of her knees and her bare feet. She laughs until she’s breathless. It’s a nice sound. I’m not sure I’ve heard DirtyGurl laugh before and that makes me doubly glad we’ve done this scene.

Moon’s next in the tondo. I know even less about Moon than DirtyGurl, since she’s not even a house sub. But Sean’s made it easy by writing “tickle here” across her stomach, thighs, and the tops of her feet in purple lipstick. Moon has exquisitely muscular thighs, each cord clearly visible under her

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