Easing the giggling brown cutie in the tiny red bikini into a standing position next to the couch, I growled, “Now, you are my captive in the Cave of Torture! You cannot escape from the Tickle Monster! HoHoHo! You will be mine forever, little girl!”, which caused Maria to scream with hysterics, “Eeeek!”, even though my hold on her wasn’t meant to tickle.
“First, I will bind your ankles to the corner leg of the couch, my little ticklish captive! HoHoHo! HeeHeeHee!”, and stooping over, I did just that, while Maria was laughing so hard in anticipation, she bobbed that slender bod against me for support while I tied her ankles tightly together and then bound them to the couch leg.
"Next, I will tie your arms high above your head, so that you are trapped totally at the mercy of the Tickle Monster! How do you feel about that, Maria?”, I rumbled, while untying her bound wrists in front of her, then drawing them up and still further up, so that her arms were in a strained position over her head, tied-off to a hook in the ceiling of the basement, conveniently right above the corner of the couch leg her ankles are bound to! ‘No, don’t! Please don’t tickle me, Mr. Monster! TeeHee!”, giggled Maria. It was especially cute to hear her say the word 'tickle', because the way she pronounced it, it sounded like 'teekle'.
Finally, just for spite (and because she seemed so amenable), I bound Maria’s knees tightly together with scarves, and wound ties and scarves into a blindfold and gag, which muffled the constant giggling of my excited, gloriously trusting young captive, though it didn’t seem to dampen her enthusiasm in the least.
Then, I just sat back in the deep cushions and enjoyed watching her sleek, adorable little cocao-coloered body bob side-to-side and up-&-down in place in that hot little bikini, exploring her now totally exposed and helpless situation, down here in the cool basement rec room, my delightful little tickling victim to torment for the evening!