Martina thought she was getting pampered. Face down, tied to the table, soft hands massaging her like she’d booked herself a spa day. She let her guard down. That was the mistake. The strokes slowed, dragged, dug in places a massage doesn’t. Her body twitched, her laugh slipped out, sharp and helpless. And that’s when she knew. This wasn’t a massage. This was a setup. A trap in plain sight. By the time the tickles owned her, she was gone, no way out, no way back. Just laughter spilling until the tickle gods decided she’d paid enough.
Length: 14:01
Resolution: 3840×2160