It’s So Nice to Meet You

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What You Didn't Know.
Inspired by Dimple Toes.
Written by Ticklishscribe.
c..


We have been anticipating this for a long time. The idea of having you at our mercy has left our brain running on only one thought since you agreed to be tickled. Our eyes engrave in our brain the sight of you on the bed awaiting our pleasure and I see you quivering. I know a myriad of ticklish thoughts will be racing through your brain and to heighten those thoughts and it is at that time that I will blindfold you.... Now all you’ll be able to sense is the feel of the soft hands at your wrists and ankles as you are held down.

The three of us have been chatting for some time and we have wanted to meet you since then. Our exquisite pleasure bubbles over when you finally agree to meet and be tickled by us. The knock at our front door has us peaking with anticipation. We open the door and are greeted by the most adorable face we have ever seen and a full figure that is almost making me forget I’m married. I watch your eyes and expression to see how you feel about meeting us in the flesh and I am delighted with apprehensive eyes and the slightest trace of a quivering voice. I can tell you’re a little on edge and this pleases me no end.

You take a chair by the window in the living room and my wife sits on the couch across from you. I open the bottle of wine that I bought to toast our meeting and pour three glasses. As I pass you one I look you over very carefully, savouring every curvature of your full figure and every movement you make. Your t-shirt and shorts have caught my attention, but it’s your feet in their keds sneakers and foot socks that have my eyes riveted. Out of all the clothing you could wear you picked an outfit that has me almost breathless and again bubbling over with anticipation. Remembering the pics you sent us of your feet, I almost wish I were one of your socks, so that I could be next to either foot.

My wife is chatting with you and I can tell that she is putting you at ease with her bubbly conversation. This pleases me and allows me the time to surf you with my eyes and to plan my tickling forays. My wife and I have already divided you up and she has taken your armpits and ribs, while I have your tummy and feet. I imagine your feet wriggling, trying to get away from my approaching hands as I giggle gutturally at the thought of your imminent tickling. I imagine myself slowly removing your sneakers one by one and then tossing them on the floor out of your reach. You couldn’t grab for them anyway as my wife would have hold of your hands and would be teasing you with what I am going to do to your feet. I imagine light short and rapid single finger strokes to your sock covered soles and your feet darting everywhere, seeking refuge from my tickling fingers and I giggle gutturally again at the fact that your feet are mine.

I down the last of my wine and hesitantly ask if you want to begin. My wife rises and takes your glass from you, then takes you by the hand. At first you are hesitant to get out of the chair, but she has warmed you all over and you slowly rise. I see a bead of sweat trickle down your face and know that we have you at the right temperature and in the right frame of mind. I want you on edge to heighten your senses and as you begin to walk down the hall to “The Room,” as we call it, the look on your face tells me that you are there.

Do you feel like you’re walking the last mile, like we could conceivably tickle you to death? Like you’re heading for the chair, the chamber or the injection. The subdued lighting in the hall has you further on edge and I mentally pat myself on the back for installing that dimmer switch.

Standing in the doorway you get your first look at the bed and a black toolbox that sits on the bedside table next to it. You see restraints attached to the four posts of the bed and while you know we have agreed not to use them, I can tell that they are looming large in your psyche. I can see the hairs on the back of your neck rising and I giggle low and give you a gentle nudge into the room. We both stand in front of the doorway, blocking any retreat that you may try to make and my wife and I take hold of your arms. It is at this time that I tell you that a third person will be joining us later to help tickle you. You squeal and try to speak, but instantly your voice dies and I can tell that you now want to bolt from the room.

We giggle as we feel a slight resistance as we escort you to the bed and feel you squirm as you face the place of your tickling torment. We then turn you around and slowly push you back onto the bed, giggling at your resistance as you try to stay upright, but fall back on the bed. Instantly we both manoeuvre you into the centre and my wife places your arms above your head and straddles them. I in turn straddle your legs, facing you.

Seeing her leaning over your head from behind, you see now why we moved the bed into the centre of the room and you begin to squirm. She steadies herself over your arms and feels them squirm under her, as you shake your head no and plead with your eyes. You shake even harder and squirm, intensely as you feel my wife’s fingers make first contact with your wide-open armpits. The last mile is over and you are really sweating now. To take your mind off it I turn around and straddle your shins, then wriggle your sneakered feet. This has you pleading even more and the two of us laughing at you in return.

My wife applies a little pressure to your armpits and you jerk and squeal sharply, allowing us a first glimpse of your reactions. Again you shake your head no and we can hear you whispering the word no as well. She flexes her fingers in your pits and the word no comes out a little louder. But no isn’t what she wants from you and so she flexes a little faster and adds a little more pressure. This causes you to squirm more and a short but audible giggle comes from you, causing my wife to repeat the movement. I can tell she has you in the palm of her hand and that soon she will have total control of you. This pleases me and I hope for the same reaction when I take control of your feet. I look behind me, and watch as her fingers move non-stop and you giggle incoherently and wildly shake your head no. My wife delights in the softness of your pits and her fingers ballet from the outer edges to the deepest recesses, never missing a micrometer of ticklish skin. Smiling at you with a slight wicked grin, she tells you how your squirming to writhing under her is making her want to tickle you more and this makes you writhe even more.

We both want so much to tie you, but have agreed long before our meeting to honour your request for no bondage to be used. I look behind me, and watch as you violently shake your head now and writhe trying to throw her off, but she steadies herself even more on you and continues to tickle. I marvel at her surgical tickles of you and am fascinated at how she can continually keep you on edge both physically and psychologically. She thanks you for wearing such a tight and thin t-shirt and tells you how it will accent your upcoming rib tickles and this brings out further struggles in you.

It is then that I surprise you with the fact that we are making a video of your tickle as a souvenir for all three of us and I see your head thrash wildly to see where the camera is. But her tickles are stealing your strength and your now full-bore laughter has stolen any voice that you had to beg and plead for mercy. Your writhing and laughter are cinematic gold to us and we tease you by telling you to keep it up. This we know you will do whether you want to or not and we know how it will enhance the video.

My wife’s fingers are now on your ribs and she is softly but vigorously rubbing them. You are really writhing under her, giggling in short but very audible spurts. Your legs are kicking wildly and I tell you not to kick so wildly as you may kick off one of your sneakers and give us a pre-tickle view of one of your feet. My words seem to reach you and you stop kicking, lock your feet together, but continue to writhe. I tell you how much fun it will be to unlock your feet and one by one bare them. You squeal no and instantly dissolve into laughter again as my wife’s fingers now slide from side to side across your spasming ribs.

You are desperate for freedom, desperate for any kind of release and mercy as my wife’s fingers are everywhere on your ribs and are merciless to them. I tease you by saying how glad I am to not be one of your ribs as devastating ribs is one of her passions and specialities. This makes you squeal no once again and we both laugh at you and my wife tells you that my passion and speciality is tickle torturing feet. She adds how delighted she’ll be when I take your soles to the very edge and tickle them senseless. She also adds that I have decided to let her play with your toes and says that she will slowly and mercilessly devastate them one by one. You squeal no again and she promises to give you a toe devastation like you’ve never had before.

You squeal again then laugh wholeheartedly even more as her fingers now ballet on your ribs and again she delights in your squirming. I’d like to pull up an easy chair, recline and just sit back and watch the fun, But I want tickle you to and can’t wait to get those soles of yours. Just watching your sneakered feet flail about is driving me crazy and I almost can’t take it any more. I imagine myself slowly teasing the laces of your sneakers as you beg and plead for me not to tickle them. I imagine myself slowly gripping the toes on one foot and slowly bending them back, as you twist and turn under us. My wife used to be a gymnast and so she knows all the moves you could make and how to guard against them.

With each rib stroke you are sent further and further into madness and you gutturally scream as each one gets longer and longer. I know she has you now and is getting ready for the grand finale, when she will claim her ticklish booty. But your tickles from her won’t be over, as I know she has a lot more planned for you. I know that her and I plan to double team you and smile as I can quickly gather your reactions.

Your laughter is music to our ears and it seems as though it is getting one octave higher with each rib. Suddenly she stops and you grasp for every breath of air you can take in. She smiles evilly at you and whispers that one word that we know from chatting with you, will blow your mind.

“Feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet!”

I can see how much fun it is going to be and I firmly grip both of your feet and wriggle them. Your reaction is to strain your legs to free them and to writhe your feet from my grip. I grab our hard cushion and place it between your legs. This wedge of a cushion that we have specifically designed to keep legs apart as I sit on them, fits nicely between your legs and doesn’t allow one foot to protect the other.

“Now…” I tease. “Which foot should I start with first?”

“The most ticklish one.” My wife replies. “She has told us which one, a couple of times.”

“And I believe it was the left one, if I remember correctly.” I wriggle your left sneaker and your struggling gets more intense and violent. This has me excited no end and I giggle softly. I can feel you bucking under and behind me and I almost feel your ultimate fear, the one you’ve only hinted at is about to come true.

As your foot flails I playfully try to grab it, and begin to pick away at your left sneaker’s lace and to my delight, your begging and pleading becomes non-stop. I hear my wife cooing to you and telling that this isn’t going to hurt a bit. Tickle like hell, but not hurt a bit. Pulling on the two ends of the lace I watch as the bow slowly becomes untied and the laces flop to the sides. I smile evilly and insert my fingers between the sides of your sneaker and your foot, then slowly spread the sneaker and loosen it. You continue to fight me at every turn and my wife coos to you more by telling you that your struggles are so futile. Grasping the toe and taking a firm grip on the heel, the sneaker easily comes away from your foot and as I lift it off, I slowly and torturously slither a finger up your sole. Your foot violently flinches and I hold your sneaker aloft as though I am holding a trophy and then toss it to the other side of the room.

Now I turn our attention to the other sneaker and begin to remove it even more slowly. Your reactions to the first one coming off were exquisite and I want to not only see your reactions again, but to see them stretched out as well. I watch your foot as you really feel and know that I am unlacing your sneaker and experience your writhing as my fingers descend to separate it from your tense, foot. Again I slowly and torturously slither a finger from heel to toes and your foot reacts with more intense writhing and jerking on the restraint. Another trophy for me and I toss it away to the opposite side of the room. Back at your left foot, I set my sights on its sock and begin to deprive your foot of any and all protection. Tugging at the toe of the thin sock, it begins to come off effortlessly and the slow peeling begins to tickle you as well. Your foot continues to writhe and as it does some more of the sock comes off. “Keep writhing,” I tell you, as it helps your sock to come off. Finally it comes off and you’re foot writhes even more and for the first time I see your toes flexing and curling and I watch them scurrying like frightened little mice seeking refuge.

I stop for a moment to pick off a piece of lint that is left on your foot and you heartily giggle as it is plucked off. I am thoroughly delighted with this and playfully tell you that there is much more lint on your sole. You giggle incessantly as my fingers dexterously pluck each supposed piece of lint off your sole and your foot violently writhes once more. For the first time I feel how soft and virgin your sole is and I smile at the exquisite tickles to come. You giggle the longest as I pluck the lint from in between your toes and I take my time, as I want to get every strand of lint off your foot before I tickle it. You are now telling me between begging that there is no more lint on your foot and you promise me anything if I’ll stop. My wife coos to you that we are in command and that you have no say in the matter. This suddenly makes you beg profusely and we both laugh heartily.

I finish plucking off the lint and give you one extra pluck between your big and second toe. This drives you wild and my wife and I laugh as you buck and violently pull against us. I skitter five fingers up and down your left sole and you squeal, scream and beg me to stop. I skitter even more and we both laugh as you continue to go wild. Now I begin to slowly trace the outer edges of your sole and your foot writhes wildly. I have to grip your toes and bend them back to continue and this allows me the opportunity to trace under them. Your toes seem to be the hot spot and as my finger traces under them you go even wilder. My finger now traces the ball and arch of your sole and your laughter is now non-stop. This makes me trace it even more and as I do so, my wife continues to let you know how much control you don’t have.

I feel you bucking behind and under me and know that I have the power to take you far beyond your limits. This I do by now by oh so slowly playing piggies with your toes. This has you screaming no and trying desperately to buck me off and I make sure to make mistakes in playing the game and having to start all over again. Wriggling your second toe I feel how soft and supple it is and I can feel how torturous this for you as you scream and beg for anything but the game of piggies and/or tickling. My wife laughs at you and asks if it really tickles that bad and then laughs again, knowing what your answer will be. I laugh too and promise to be tenderer when I play piggies on your right foot. This has you in a violent frenzy and I wonder if you and your mind aren’t about ready to implode.

“Who’s got the piggies that are definitely worth playing with and worth taking one’s sweet time in doing so.” My wife asks.

You are begging non-stop now and my wife leans over you and smiles sweetly, then holds a blindfold over you and tells you it’s night night time. She knows you are going out of your mind and she loves every moment of it. I hear a scream from you as she whispers that she’s going to play piggies on your other foot, joining me on your toe tweaking torment.

It is that moment that the third person we have told you about comes into the room. You are now really panicking, as she tells you that she will help hold you down while we both work on your feet. A guttural no is repeatedly uttered from you and the three of us giggle as you try everything to free yourself.

I watch as she clinically tucks your right ankle in the crook of her arm, firmly grips the heel of your foot and begins her incessant tweaking torture. You go wild under us and we both laugh at the fact that you are so close to being broken.

Suddenly we stop and we can hear your heavy breathing as you grasp for air. We also feel you jerk as I continue to straddle your left leg and occasionally place a single fingertip on your sole and slightly wriggle it. You continue to beg and plead and we giggle as your feet writhe. It is at this point, that my wife whispers that other word that has you suddenly jerking and violently writhing and I laugh to myself as the word feather sends you into frenzy. Then we go into silence again and your struggling tells that you know the feather is coming, but that you don’t know where. You not knowing delights us no end and drives you crazy and so we hold off our feathery assault for a few moments. As the feathers make initial contact with your soles, you utter and quietly scream the words “Oh shit” and “Oh fuck,” and we both laugh at you. We slowly stroke the feathers up the mid lines of your soles and your bucking gives us victory. We have found a hot spot and the tool to work it over with and we shall maximize our advantage. It’s pay time for your feet and playtime for us.

Your quiet screams turn into very audible giggles and we giggle along with you. In our eyes you have been well worth the wait and have amply rewarded us. Therefore we both decide to reward you in return with more tickles.

“You are our wildest dreams come true and so must keep these dreams alive as long as possible.” I tease.

Now you feel the feather begin to glide over your sole again and it rips through you like a chainsaw, cutting through a log. I begin to tease and tickle the sole of your foot, as you writhe on the bed desperately trying to avoid the tickling sensations that are overwhelming your senses. As one feather continues on your left foot, you feel anther one caressing your right and. I can see how excited you have become. I drop the feathers and begin to tickle you in earnest with my fingers. I glide my hands over your entire sole and. once again you feel it being mercilessly tickled. You are writhing with laughter and begging us to stop, but we are relentless, pausing occasionally only to let you regain your breath before we continue your tickle.

I now turnaround and direct my attention to your ultra taught tummy, complete with helpless, defenceless and oh so inviting button. Your tummy button is a perfectly round deep dimple with a soft knot of flesh at its bottom. I loved tummy buttons and the sight of your certainly ticklish navel waiting helplessly for a finger to titillate it is something I just can’t pass up.

"You know, you have such a cute little body, so nice and firm. Let’s see your tummy!" I begin to raise your top up to your breasts, revealing your smooth tummy. You have no idea what is about to happen, and then you feel my fingers gently glide across your soft tummy. It immediately quivers under my touch and the sensations of our fingertips make you wriggle, then giggle, and then laugh. "I just love teasing and tickling tummies, and I know that I’m going to love yours.” I trace circles around the tummy, tracing them smaller and smaller until I am sensually circling the button. This is driving you nuts and all you can do is laugh and writhe.

“How do you feel about a feather on your tummy?” I take a rather pointy one and let it dip into the dimple that is your button. Instantly you burst into giggles and I take great delight in knowing that I have you once again. Our friend divides your senses by giving your left armpit another tickle and now you are constantly squirming to writhing. Having all the time in the world, I delight in taking our time to explore how deliciously ticklish you are here by probing deep into it with my left index finger. I push in firm and then work my finger around in circles, stretching the walls of the dimple. I now piston it in and out, poking the button and you go wild under me, tummy wriggling tightly and your entire body writhing. Your laughter rises as my finger touches the bottom of your navel then falls a little when I pull it out. It rises again when I insert it once more and I again delight in your reactions. While I can’t see them I know that your eyes are clenched tightly shut, but I can see that your mouth is wide open with giggles and this causes us to giggle back at you. We suddenly stop and immediately your reactions subside. I playfully look at you as and poise my fingers over your tummy again. Immediately you shake your head no and begin to speak in limited sentences, as your breath hasn’t fully returned yet.

“That was a lovely first hour wasn’t it?” I playfully ask, hovering my index finger millimetres over your button.

“Fuuuuuuucccccckkkkk!” You hiss. “That was only an-“

“Yes.” Adds my wife interrupting you. “And we have all the time in the world. What, you didn't know?”​