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libtick
04-05-2009, 02:00 PM
Hello all,

It's been a while, so here is my latest story involving Anne and Helene, the ticklish smooth socks wearing daughters of ticklish moms Joanna and Guinevere.


The Cottage of Daughterly and Motherly Laughter

Anne and Helene woke up in total darkness, blindfolded. They quickly realized they were both tied up in a strenuous position across what felt like a small bed, side by side, their heads hanging well over the edge of the bed. Their hands were tied high over their heads, going under the bed. After a few squirms, both girls noted that their arms were tied to their feet on the other side of the bed. Their armpits were thus very exposed. Their feet were hanging softly over the other edge of the bed, still in their clogs.

“What happened,” said Anne, who couldn’t help but feel both nervous and excited.

Helene’s belly suddenly began to show signs of ticklish stimulation. Severe muscular spasms, caused by several hard substances – sharp fingernails – shook it in every direction. These fingernails began to perform a slow dance about her belly button. This intricate dance was designed to cause laughter in her sophomore mouth. Helene sweetly exploded into a submissive laughter that was music to the ears of anyone who could hear it.

“Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, my belly is very ticklish, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, oh I think I’m going to die, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” laughed Helene out loud, as she squirmed slightly on the bed.

“Pooooooooooootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy-poo, my ticklish little daughter,” teased verbally Guinevere, as she ran her nails lightly over the belly of her helpless daughter. “Did you think that the two of you would get away with tickling me so easily? What a sensitive belly you have, Helene. Yes, twitch the little belly. Twitch.”

“Your daughter’s belly is indeed very twitchy, but it’s nothing compared to my daughter’s,” noted Joanna, as she added her nails to those already dancing over Helene’s belly. Such a ticklish little sophomore girl. Keeeeeeeeetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy-koo, Helene,” teased Joanna, a smile of extreme contentment breaking her face.

“But let’s not forget what really drives my daughter crazy. Having her belly zerberted. There you go, Helene. Prrrrrffft. Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrffffffffft.”

“Let me help you,” said Joanna. “Prrrrrrrrrrrffffffftttttt. Prrrrrrrrrrrfffffffttttt. Prrrrrrrrrrrfffffffttttt. Prrrrrrrrrffffffftt.”

Helene’s belly reacted poorly to zerberts. Helene jerked in her bonds, her eyes wide open under her blindfold, as her soft belly suffered. She felt nails, twenty nails, dance on and poke her helplessly taut belly while four lips were fluttering quickly over it. Her mouth wide open, laughter poured freely.

It had all happened so fast. As soon as they came back from class, wet cloths had been put on their mouths. Sleepy, they couldn’t resist. Now, they were tied and helpless, their ticklish spots exposed.

Anne nervously listened as Helene’s belly was tortured. She smiled at the purity of Helene’s laugh knowing full well that she was next.

“Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, don’t do my belly, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, not the zerberts, not the zerberts, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” begged Helene, who had never been tickled and zerberted by two women before. She could feel her belly try to get away. It drove her mad.

“Pooooootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy-poo on your ticklish little belly Helene,” teased Joanna. “What a pppprrrrrrrffffftttt tender belly you have Helene. You so deserve to have it tortured. You should have told me earlier how horribly ticklish it was. And don’t worry. Your ticklish little socks are coming up.”

“Yes, they are delicious those little socks, and I too am really ppprrrrffffffttt, prrrrfffftttttt, pppprrrrffffffffffffftttt, looking forward to torturing them. But first your belly, your taut belly. Tickle, tickle, tickle dear, laugh generously dear, laugh. God, those belly muscles are jerking so hard. Guidi, guidi, guidi, guidi, tender little daughter,” teased Guinevere.

“Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, mom, my poor belly can’t take it, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, I’m sorry for tickling your gorgeous ticklish feet, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” admitted Helene, who, for the next 30 minutes, was belly-tickled. It felt like hours.

Suddenly Anne felt her belly wanting to escape her body. She began trashing about, as her hard laughter replaced Helene’s soft laughter. It exploded raucously, purely, perfectly. Twenty mature nails and four fluttering lips tickled Anne’s smooth belly, which was heaving up and down in pain. Anne was caught in a paralyzing web of ticklishness. It was strange how tickling affected skin, flesh and muscles. ‘I’m so ticklish,’ thought Anne, as a fresh batch of laughter crossed her lips.

“What a ticklish Anne. Ppprrrrfffffttt, pppprrrrfffffffffffftttt, prrrrfffftttttt, ghili, ghili. I wish I had more hands to tickle your belly, your armpits and your feet at the same time. But let’s take care of your belly first. It is alive. It is twitching about. It must feel like a tickle delight. Ppprrrrffffffttt, ppprrrrffffffffftttt, prrrrfffftttttt. Laugh Anne, laugh. Laugh Anne, laugh,” taunted Guinevere.

“My daughter is painfully ticklish everywhere. I too wish I could tickle her all over to maximize her punishment. Ghili, ghili, ghili, ticklish Anne, pprrrrfffffttt, pppprrrrffffffffffftttt, prrrrfffftttttt, what squirmy belly. And listen to that laugh.”

“Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahah,” laughed Anne perfectly, as she jerked about on the bed.

“Oh, but wait a minute. What if I go there, inside your ticklish daughter’s armpits while you take care of her belly,” suggested Guinevere. Her hands quickly flew inside Anne’s exposed armpits. “Keeeeeeeetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy-koo, Anne, under your arms.”

“Even better, I’ll take care of her waist and rib cage. They’re horribly ticklish,” suggested Joanna, as she grabbed her daughter waist and squeezed it. Much like her belly muscles, Anne’s waist muscles reacted poorly to being touched. They were shaken by violent spasms and delicious twitches. Slowly, as she berated her daughter for being so ticklish, Joanna moved to her rib cage, sending Anne into a frenzy. Laughter poured out her widely opened lips. Delectable tears broke from under her blindfold as minutes passed.

“Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahah,” laughed Anne at the top of her lungs. Anne had forgotten how ticklish her ribs were. As she laughed maniacally, she could hear the delectable taunts of her mother and Guinevere, who seemed to enjoy making her suffer. How long was it before they stopped torturing her? Anne couldn’t tell. All she did was obey the ticklish input her mother and Guinevere were sending into her ribs and underarms, and laugh helplessly.

“Can’t take it on the ribs Anne? Keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy-koo Anne. Laugh louder Anne. Laugh harsher Anne. It must be torture for you to have your armpits and rib cage tickle-tortured simultaneously. You deserve it,” stated her mother.

“These armpits are so smooth. There’s nothing like tickling your ticklish armpits Anne. I can feel, at the tip of my fingernails, that it is causing you pain. Kootchy, kootchy, kootchy, kootchy, kootchy, kootchy, kootchy, kootchy, kootchy, kootchy, kootchy, kootchy, kootchy-koo Anne. Come on, you can laugh louder than that,” said Guinevere, as she dug her nails deeper into Anne’s axillary flesh.

“Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahah,” laughed solidly Anne, tears rolling down her cheeks. Slumping, Anne abandoned herself to her ticklers. No more trashing about. Just a young 19 year-old very ticklish body allowing itself to be tortured.

An eternity later, 40 minutes to be exact, Anne felt relief, although her nerve endings, so accustomed they were to being tickled, gave her this irresistible urge to giggle stupidly.

But Anne wasn’t done being stimulated. Producing two ostrich feathers, her mother and Guinevere applied them gently for many minutes on her face, torturing her nose, her forehead, her lips, her chin, and her cheeks. As she twisted parts of her face under the feathers, she giggled and produced some of the strangest sounds she had ever produced while tickled.

“Fzzzzzzzzz, OOOOOOOOoooooooooooh, pppfffffffffttt, tickles, gggzzzzzzzttttt. No, gggzzzz, gggzzzz, gggzzzz, fzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Gnnn, gnnn, gnnn, gggzzzz, gggzzzz, gggzzzz, OOOOOOOOoooooooooooh, fzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.”

“What delightful sounds Anne,” said Guinevere. “Oh, you like it on the lips, don’t you?”

“My daughter is so ticklish, her face can’t resist feathers...or fingers. Let me demonstrate. Pootchy, pootchy, pootchy-poo under the chin and the neck Anne,” cooed Joanna.

“Gaaaaah, gaaaah, ahahahahah, gzzzzzzzz, gaaaah, my naaaaaaaack, ahahahahah,” responded Anne, twisting in her bonds. Anne had never been able to resist having her head tickled. She was that ticklish.

“But you know what? My daughter can’t take feathers inside her armpits,” noted Guinevere, as she began sliding and fluttering the ostrich feathers she was holding inside Helene’s armpits.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah,” squealed at first Helene, as the feathers ravaged her axillary nerve endings. “No, no, no, aaah, aaah, aaah, my poor underarms, aaah, aaah, aaah, their skin is tender, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, oh mom, my underarms, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, you’re feathering them perfectly, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, it tickles deep inside the pits, aaah, aaah, aaah,” complained Helene, who had trouble accepting the feathers in her underarms, especially since she was blindfolded.

“Then I’m sure she can’t stand having them fingernailed,” stated Joanna, as she stopped tickling Anne’s face with the feathers, dropped those on the bed and dug her nails deeply inside the very taut skin of Helene’s armpits.

This caught Helene totally off guard. A delicious squeal of terror exploded inside the cottage followed by a sweet laugh impregnated with utter fear and helplessness. It rang off the walls and inside the ears of her tormentors, causing them much delight. In addition, it made her petite frame trash about in horrible ticklish pain.

Guinevere couldn’t help herself and joined in, digging her nails inside her daughters armpits. “Keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy-koo under your arms dear. Kiiiiiiiiiiili, kili, kili, kili armpit-ticklish daughter. Koooooootzy, kootzy, kootzy, kootzy, kootzy, kootzy, kootzy, kootzy, kootzy, kootzy, along the walls of your underarms Helene, my ticklish Helene. Laugh for your mother Helene. Laugh for mommy.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, my poor pits, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, my ticklish pits, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, my pits are very ticklish mom, aaah, aaah, aaah, oh I think I’m really going to die, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” laughed Helene helplessly, as 20 sharp nails extracted more sensations from her axillary skin than she had ever felt before. She trashed and trashed and trashed endlessly.

“Laugh generously Helene through your soft underarms. What a ticklish daughter you are Helene. And I haven’t tickled your sheer nylon socks yet. Kootchy, kootchy-koo dear on your soft skin. Feel my nails poke your armpits dear. Oh I just love to kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili you dear,” taunted Guinevere, who dug her nails even deeper inside the very taut flesh of Helene’s armpits. “I enjoy tickling you Helene.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaaaaaaaaaaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, mom no not so deep, aaaaaaaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaaaaaaaaaaaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” begged a tiring Helene.

“You’ve got such a ticklish daughter under her arms Guinevere,” said Joanna, who was enjoying herself thoroughly. She had wanted a complete revenge on Helene for some time now. She imitated Guinevere and dug her nails much deeper into Helene’s smooth and naked armpit flesh. “Keeeeeeeeetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, die of laughter Helene. What a delectable hour this is going to be.”

When she heard that, Helene panicked, and her ticklishness level went up. Her lips got stuck into a delicious laughing pattern. She laughed more laughter she thought she could laugh.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaaaaaaaaaaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, no, not an hour, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaaaaaaaaaaaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, too ticklish, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaaaaaaaaaaaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” laughed Helene, unable to say a word in her ticklish defense.

Anne listened to Helene laugh, and thoroughly enjoyed the pure sound that came out of her mouth. How long was Helene tickled under her arms? She couldn’t say. All she knew was that when the tickling stopped, their feet were next.

“Time for your cute little socks to pay for being ticklish,” stated Guinevere. Guinevere picked up two stiff feathers and applied them across her daughter’s yellow sheer nylon socks. At the same time, Joanna also glided two stiff feathers across Anne’s delicious sheer red nylon socks.

Both girls reacted differently to the stimuli. Anne flexed her soles reflexively towards the feathers before she began wiggling her toes uncontrollably. “Mom, my socks ahahre ticklish, ahah,” she said.

Meanwhile, Helene flexed her soles back but couldn’t avoid the barbs of the feathers her mother was gliding on her socks. Then, her feet began trembling gently. “Aah, aah, mom, aah, aah, mom, aah, aah mom,” she repeated like a broken record.

“Your sheer nylon socks can’t even resist our feathers. Imagine, what’s going to happen when we dig our nails into their smooth yarns,” said Guinevere, who continued to feather Helene’s sheer socks, as well as making quick tickle trips on Anne’s socks.

“Do you like having your socks feathered Anne?” asked cruelly Joanna, as she glided the feathers along her daughter’s socked soles, making her young sophomore feet dance sweetly.

“It...aahaah, tickles under the socks mom, aahaah, stop mom, aahaah,” begged Anne cutely, her toes wiggling still.

“Feather, feather, feather, Helene,” cooed Guinevere, as she glided the feathers from the toes of her daughter’s socks to their heels.

Aah, aah, no mom, not the feathers, aah, aah, it feels tickly, aah, aah, aah,” replied Helene, who was constantly flexing her soles back.

“Well, if you don’t like the feathers, we’ll use our sharp nails instead,” stated Joanna, as she dug her nails deep inside the very smooth socks of Anne, her ticklish daughter. Anne’s feet, all her body in fact, shook badly as a scream of ticklish agony crossed her lips followed by an uninterrupted bout of spasmodic laughter. Helene quickly joined her when her mother dug her red nails into her sheer yellow socks about the toes. This attack made Helene squeal tenderly before she returned to her laughing ways.

Guinevere and Joanna smiled as they look at their daughters’ feet wiggle, wriggle and try to squirm their way out of their ticklish situation. They enjoyed the smoothness of their sheer nylon socks and the painful nature of their ticklish laughs. From heel to toes, they poked, scratch and glided over the soles of their very ticklish daughters.

“Pooooooooooooootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy-poo on the bottoms of your sheer red nylon socks Anne. Laugh my tender daughter. Feel my long nails ravage your socks, dear. I have so looked forward to tickling your pretty little feet so as to teach you a lesson. Your heels, arches and toes are not going to escape my nail attacks. You are going to laugh uninterruptedly for a whole hour, a punishment you ticklishly deserve. Pootchy, pootchy-poo my ticklish little daughter. Pootchy, pootchy-poo my ticklish little daughter.

“Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahah,” laughed Anne solidly. Her feet wriggled about as her mother touched them lightly and repeatedly through her delicate little sheer socks causing, in her flesh, strange laughter-inducing sensations. Anne wasn’t sure if she could take an hour of having her mother’s nails dance over her sheer socks. Her mouth wide opened, her eyes as well, she expelled air forcefully through her lips in the form of a laughter she couldn’t control.

“Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, you can’t tickle my sheer nylon socks, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, I will so die of laughter, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” complained Helene, as she wriggled her feet and wiggled her toes spasmodically. This urge that her mother was causing through her yellow sheer nylon socks to laugh was irresistible. She could almost feel her mother poke holes through her sock defenses. With a wide smile in her face, Helene laughed generously, commenting regularly on how it tickled.

“Ghiiiiiiili, ghili, ghili, ghili, ghili, ghili, ghili, ghili, ghili, ghili, ghili, ghili, ghili through your socks Helene, my ticklish college daughter. You will take a whole hour or we’ll have to start over. First, by tickling your round toes, then, by poking the balls of your feet and then by sliding my nails along your socked arches. You will take your tickle hour Helene,” stated Guinevere as she amused herself with her daughter’s thin and smooth sheer nylon socks. She loved making them wrinkle with her fingernails over Helene’s helpless toes. She loved poking holes through Helene’s sock defenses. She loved to look at her ticklish daughter’s feet jerk, wriggle, and tremble. She loved the smoothness of her yellow sheer nylon socks. She loved the sound of her laughter and the distress of her tickle-relief pleas. Tickling her was so much fun.

“Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, don’t tickle, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, my sheer socks mom, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, please mom, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, my socks are real ticklish, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, I hate your nails, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, they’re so ticklish, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” begged fruitlessly Helene, as tiredness slowly enveloped her.

“Pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy-poo Anne, my ticklish little girl. Your socks are so ticklish, they need to be punished. That’ll teach you to mom-tickle me all the time Anne. I can’t stand having my delicate mature nyloned foot-bottoms excited, touched, titillated and tickled. Poooooootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy-poo in between your wiggly little toes. Suffer Anne suffer,” taunted Joanna, as she played with her daughters toes, pushing them slightly aside to tickle the space in between that was unaccustomed to being touched. This seemed to send Anne into a frenzy from which there was no escape. Joanna looked intently at her daughter’s socks, and began running her nails rapidly from heels to toes. This seemed to rejuvenate Anne’s torturous ticklish reactions, which pleased Joanna.

“Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahah,” laughed Anne helplessly, as she began to lose her mind.

“Let’s switch daughters,” suggested Guinevere. “That would give them a new perspective on laughter.”

“Great idea. Pooooooooooootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy-poo on the bottoms of your yellow sheer nylon socks Helene, oh isn’t she a ticklish girl under her socks,” cooed Joanna. From the tips of her toes to her perfectly smooth heels, Joanna attacked the nerve endings of Helene, whom she still held responsible for corrupting Anne ticklishly. “I could look at your feet suffer for days,” stated Joanna, deriving immense pleasure from the smoothness of Helene’s socks.

Laughter generously poured out of the mouth of a tiring Helene. Strange sensations, unbearable sensations were forcing her to do so. Tears of joy and pain were streaking down her cheeks. What an efficient punishment. Their bodies had been tickled thoroughly.

“There’s no need to tease you verbally, is there, tender Anne? Do you realize that it’s only been 20 minutes since we began tickling your socks? You still have 40 minutes to go. Can you take it?” asked cruelly Guinevere, as she played with Anne’s socks.

As Anne produced her laughing elixir, as she still trashed about somewhat, as she felt this strange urge to laugh, she wondered if she could take it. She truly did.


***

“They’re gone,” said Guinevere, as she rushed into Joanna’s bedroom. Shaking her last remnants of sleepiness, Joanna replied: “Why am I not surprised.”

After slipping a delicious pair of brand new and very sheer light grey pantyhose, a pair of jeans and a simple T-shirt, Joanna put her tall boots on and walked outside. She was quickly followed by Guinevere, who had also slipped on a pair of tall boots, which were covering a pair of ticklish feet clad in sheer dark blue pantyhose.

“We came in two cars, and they’re still there. They’re hiding, and I think I know where.”

“Where?” asked Guinevere.

“Years ago, Anne built a tree house. I’m sure that’s where they are. It’s close by.”

A few minutes later, Joanna and Guinevere were standing right underneath a tree house with a hole at the bottom. The only way to access the house was through a ladder which had obviously been removed. However, even before Joanna had time to say anything, she felt her feet leave the ground. Seconds later, she was dangling upside down looking at the ground. Next to her Guinevere was dangling gently.

Ropes came from the air to surround their wrists. Their dangling bodies were pulled up slightly until their heads were no longer upside down and they were able to see that their boots had made it through the hole. Suddenly, a carpet through which their boots fit perfectly was thrown over the hole, and Joanna and Guinevere couldn’t see their boots anymore.

Moments later, fresh air began caressing both women mature soles. “It’s your turn to laugh mom,” said Anne simply. We prepared our trap after we chloroformed you last night while you were sleeping to make sure we wouldn’t be bothered.” The useless soles of Joanna’s boots, as well as those of Guinevere’s, landed on the ground, close to the two ticklish mothers. They had once again been debooted. “Ooh mom, you’re wearing beautifully new sheer light grey pantyhose. No only do they look new but they look ticklish. Are they? Keeeetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy-koo mom on the bottoms of your nyloned soles.”

Weird sensations, laughter-causing sensations, exploded gently inside Joanna’s mature plantar flesh. They gave her this strange urge to laugh like a little girl, not like a mature woman. So, she opened her mouth and expelled air gently through her lips while begging sweetly.

“Haaaaaaaaaaaa, haaaa, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, you can’t tickle my new nylons, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, they’re just out of the store, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” laughed Joanna softly.

“Of course I can tickle your new nylons mom. Didn’t you know mom that the bottoms of your new nylons are made to be tickled? Wooooootchy, wootchy, pootchy, pootchy-poo mom on the bottoms of your toes. I love listening to your laugh mom. It is so musical.”

“Hooooooooooooo, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, don’t touch my maternal nylons, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, they’re very tickle-conducive, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” begged Joanna, as she dangled at the end of the rope.

“You mean as tickle-conducive as our own sheer nylon socks,” replied Helene, “which you enjoyed torturing. To say nothing of our bellies, our armpits and our ribs. You deserve to be punished through your hose Joanna. And you too mom. Your long toes should laugh mom.”

Guinevere smiled suddenly, and quickly gave up to her daughter’s fingernails, as a mixture of painful and agreeable sensations caused her to laugh generously.

“Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, Helene, not my toes, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, my dark blue nylons are quite ticklish, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” complained Guinevere.

Inside the tree house, Anne and Helene were treated to a beautiful sight. Wriggling gently, Joanna’s and Guinevere’s soles were exposed perfectly and tickled cruelly. Pain was no doubt traveling down their nerve endings to their brains and back up to their mouths, making them laugh endlessly. Nothing was smoother than the bottoms of their moms’ nylons. Anne and Helene tickled their own moms for now, enjoying the control they had over their soles. From their toes to their heels, they fluttered their fingernails quickly over the plantar areas of their moms.

“God mom, your long toes are so hard to resist. Wiggle your toes, mom. Wiggle your long dark blue nyloned toes mom. There you go. Keeeeetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy-koo under your dark blue toes, mom. I so rarely get to see your toes through sheer hose mom. You should wear those more often. Tickle-mom, tickle-mom, tickle-mom, mom,” teased Helene, who ran her nails all over the surface of her mom’s soles, while paying particular attention to her very long toes.

“Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, I told you Helene, not my toes, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, I’ll never wear those dark blue nylons again, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” replied Guinevere.

“When do we switch moms, Helene?” asked Anne. “I’m really looking forward to tickling your mom’s nyloned foot-bottoms. They look so tender in those dark blue nylons.”

“They are very smooth, but not as much as our tickle socks. Your mom’s pantyhosed soles look very tender. I’m itching to tickle them too. But I think we should stimulate our own moms longer. I think it humiliates them more this way,” replied Helene. “Let’s dig deeper inside our moms’ plantar flesh to elicit more laughter from their foot-bottoms. Kiiiiiiiiili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kili, keetchy-koo, mom,” teased Helene, her nails penetrating slightly deeper inside her mom’s plantar flesh, using the slick nylons to her advantage to inflict more tickling pain to Guinevere.

And helpless Guinevere felt the difference: “Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, no, please Helene, stop, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, your mom is too ticklish, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, my feet, my poor feet, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” complained strongly Guinevere.

Anne also dug deeper into Joanna’s brand new light gray pantyhosed feet, causing her mom to react very submissively: “Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, not that Anne, not that, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, my nylons are too thin, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” begged Joanna.

“Laugh mom. I love to listen to your laugh. You tickled us torturingly and now it’s your turn for your nylons to laugh,” stated Anne, her fingers deep inside her mom’s weak toes. “Wiggle, wiggle the toes mom.”

“Hooooooooooooo, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, hooooooooooooooo, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, don’t make me wiggle my toes, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, please dear, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” begged Joanna.

“And why not? You certainly enjoyed making mine wiggle, by tickling my smooth sheer nylon socks. Tickle-mom, tickle-mom, tickle-mom, mom. Squirm and wiggle and laugh, mommy dearest. You know, you should be more like Helene’s mom, and buy colorful nylons. I could see your ticklish feet encased in pink stockings for example with reinforced heels and toes. In fact, I’ll buy you a pair for your birthday. Oh God, I love the thought of your sensitive maternal foot-bottoms encased in delectable colored stockings.”

“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, pink maternal stockings, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, covering my ticklish feet, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, would be so humiliating, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” stated Joanna at the thought of wearing old-fashioned pink stockings.

“That’s a great idea Anne. I’ll buy a few for my mom so we can tickle her through those. I can just see my ticklish mom wearing reinforced heels and toes orange stockings.”

“Or pure white stockings,” suggested Anne, her nails still flying over her mom’s tender pantyhosed feet.

For the next 30 minutes, as they kept tickling their sweet ticklish mothers, Anne and Helene discussed encasing their mom’s legs in stockings, what color of stockings to encase their legs and ticklish feet in, and even the possibility of buying them several colorful pairs of sheer nylon socks. Meanwhile Guinevere and Joanna laughed generously, tears streaking down their cheeks.

Suddenly without warning and without pause, the girls switched position and Anne was able to satisfy her attraction for Guinevere’s dark blue toes, and Helene was able to stimulate Joanna’s brand new light gray pantyhose.

“Kiiiiiiili, kili, kili, kili, kili, kootchy-koo at the base of your long toes Guinevere. These toes. I love these toes. Their structure is delicious. Not to mention the structure of your arches Guinevere, ticklish Guinevere. Poooooootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy, pootchy-poo through your sheer dark blue pantyhose Guinevere. Laugh your inexhaustible laugh,” teased Anne, appreciating the differences between her mom’s soles and Guinevere’s.

“Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, the toes, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, no, Anne, no, not the toes, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, tickle your own mom, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” begged Guinevere, who was dangling helplessly outside the tree house, tears streaking down her cheeks.

“I can tickle my own mom any time I wish. I don’t have many opportunities to tickle your long toes and make them wiggle and laugh. Or to walk my nails along your sensitive arches. Or to poke the mature balls of your feet. Especially not through delectable sheer nylons. Keeeeetchy, keetchy, keetchy-koo Guinevere through your dark blue nylons, keeeeeeeetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy-koo Guinevere of the ticklish foot-bottoms.”

“Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, no, no, no, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, Anne I can’t, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, my long toes don’t like you, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” responded Guinevere in fits of laughter.

Every time she laughed. Guinevere’s soles trembled deliciously inside the tree house. Anne smiled. She was so ticklish. Poking Guinevere’s arches, she helped her produce more laughter. Then, scratching the smooth sheer nyloned arches, she made Guinevere laugh louder, increasing her suffering. But she wasn’t about to forget her long toes. Inserting her nails between the helpless long digits, she caused much damage to Guinevere’s nerve endings structure.

“You’re so ticklish Guinevere, but I’m not sure these nylons are perfect for your feet. Next time we capture you, I want you to wear your plaid nylons so I can play countless games of tickle-tac-toe on them. Is that clear, kootchy, kootchy, ticklish Guinevere? I love playing tickle-tac-toe on your foot-bottoms through your colorful plaid nylons,” said Anne, her eyes transfixed on Guinevere’s tender toes.

“Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, I can’t take tickle-tac-toe, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, anything if you stop, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” tried to negotiate Guinevere.

“This isn’t a negotiation. This is an order. A tickle order. Kiiiiili, kili, kili, kili, kootchy-koo, Guinevere. Obey Guinevere. Obey my fingertips and swear you’ll wear your maternal plaid nylons,” shot back Anne, who was quickly falling in love with Guinevere’s long toes.

“Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, I’ll wear them Anne, stop, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, please, I’ll put them on, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” gave in the very ticklish mom.

Meanwhile, Helene was touching lightly and repeatedly the bottoms of Joanna’s light grey nylons, causing delicious laughter in Joanna’s mouth. The promise Anne had extracted from her mom’s soles gave her an idea.

“Oh Joanna. I’ve always wanted to see your feet clad in full-fashioned stockings, koooootchy, kootchy, kootchy, kootchy, kootchy-koo under the balls of your feet Joanna, I can just see your feet imprisoned in a pair of grey or pink full-fashioned stockings. Now agree or I’ll tickle the bottoms of your feet for a few hours. Agree ticklish Joanna. Agree laughingly.”

As she tickled the bottoms of Guinevere’s feet, Anne smiled. It was a delicious idea. Yes, they would buy Joanna dozens of different nylons and make her laugh through each and everyone of them.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, I won’t wear them, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, stop this instant, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, I can take your tickling me, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” ordered Joanna, who was beginning to tire from the non-stop tickling.

Upon hearing this, Helene quickened her pace. She ran her fingers faster over Joanna’s weak maternal soles. She paid delicious and special attention to her fleshy toes, digging her nails as deep as she could in the interstices between her toes. She attacked the toes from the front and the back, digging her nails deeply into skin and flesh unaccustomed to being tickled. She scratched the soles cruelly with her nails using the smoothness of Joanna’s nylons to build up speed.

Joanna snapped almost instantly. She was a very ticklish mom.

“Hooooooooooooo, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, hooooooooooooooo, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, I’ll wear the hose, I’ll wear any hose, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, please no more, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” begged Joanna.

“Keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy, keetchy-koo Joanna. Bad Joanna needs to be punished for a long hour. Yes, let’s tickle our moms uninterruptedly for an hour on the bottoms of their mature soles.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, hooooooooooooooo, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, not that, not that, I’ll be a good mom, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, I’ll be a soft mom, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” begged Joanna fruitlessly as she danced at the end of her rope. So, for the next hour Joanna and Guinevere were tickled through a torrent of kootchies by their daughters. With all the cottages closed for the winter, their pure maternal laughs resonated in the forest with no one to hear them.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, no more, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, no more, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, please no more, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha,” begged Joanna to no avail.

“Aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, please stop, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, too much, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, my toes, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah,” said in kind tender Guinevere.

But there were no one to save their soles.


***

“What, what, where am I?” asked Joanna, as she suddenly woke up.

“We’ve been mummified together with tons of thick duct tape. Your feet are on my chest, mere inches from my face, clad in my sewn up plaid nylons. My feet are in the same position on your chest as well, clad in my bright orange opaque nylons.” Guinevere paused. “I can’t resist your ticklish maternal soles in my plaid hose Joanna,” she said, darting her tongue towards the exposed soles and digging it gently in and out of Joanna’s plaid nylons. Joanna smiled. Then, her smile widened to transform itself into a very soft laughing pattern.

“Ho, ho, ho, ha, ha, ha, your tongue tickles Guinevere. I don’t think I like it really, Ha, ha, ha, ha, ho, ho, ho, ho, ha, haaaaa,” complained Joanna, as she wiggled her toes slowly. “I’ll get you, ha, ha, ha, ha, for tha, ha, ha, ha, hat,” she added, as she lifted her head and swallowed whole the long toes of Guinevere’s right foot.

Guinevere was surprised at first, but when she felt Joanna’s tongue make its way along her long toes, she understood she was going to laugh.

Aaah, aaah, aaah, that tickles Joanna please stop, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, you’re playing right into, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, our devilish daughters’ hands, oooooooh, your gliding your tongue along my second toe, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, stop please, stop, aaah, aaah, aaah, aaah, or I’ll tickle you some more,” threatened Guinevere, as she propelled her tongue deep inside Johanna’s ticklish toes.


***

“It...aahaah, tickles under the socks Helene, aahaah, stop not your hair, aahaah,” begged Anne cutely, her feet wriggling on the bed, upturned, clad in her sheer little socks. After leaving Joanna and Guinevere, Helene and Anne had driven to a close-by motel and taken a room. Immediately, Helene used her hair to tickle Anne’s face, especially her lips. Weakened, Anne was easy prey for Helene, and ended up wrapped in the sheets of the bed.

“You never told me about your face. Or your feather-sensitive socks. I can finally hear you beg. Feel my hair across your smooth sheer nylon socks Anne. Complain about being ticklish.”

“Aahaah, I’m ticklish, I’m so ticklish, aahaah, and so aahaahre you,” replied Anne, as she darted her tongue in between Helene’s close-by toes, right through her sheer socks.

“Aaaaaaaah,” squealed Helene, pulling her feet away. You’re going to pay for that ticklish Anne, said Helene, as she dug her nails deep inside Anne’s socks and flesh with her nails. “I’m going to make you laugh as much as your mom deserves to. Ghili, ghili, ghili, Anne.”

“Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha hahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahah ahahahah,” laughed Anne perfectly.


The End

Kindred
04-06-2009, 02:25 AM
Absolutely perfect... Well done Libtick

libtick
04-09-2009, 04:41 PM
Absolutely perfect... Well done Libtick

Thanks very much. I'm going to try to post more often if I can find the time. I have sequels with tender lawyer Carmellia, as well as with Lison and her gang of ticklish stockinged beauties. If I can just find a minute...

Kindred
04-10-2009, 01:38 AM
If I could offer any piece of advice it would be this...

When you are inspired... Write...
When a story is ready... Post...

Only you will know when that time comes, people love your stuff and for me, having read your stories over and over again for at least 10 years, all of them are worth the wait.

(Although I am completely intrigued to hear more about Lison... and the stewardess... and the sisters... and the nurses... and their Mistresses... and the executives... and their footlovers... and tickly little claudia and her newest nerd/student friend... oh I could go on for hours!)

Carenello
04-12-2009, 04:48 PM
Fantastic Story Libstic!:ty:
Good Job (as Always)

libtick
04-13-2009, 09:53 AM
If I could offer any piece of advice it would be this...

When you are inspired... Write...
When a story is ready... Post...

Only you will know when that time comes, people love your stuff and for me, having read your stories over and over again for at least 10 years, all of them are worth the wait.

(Although I am completely intrigued to hear more about Lison... and the stewardess... and the sisters... and the nurses... and their Mistresses... and the executives... and their footlovers... and tickly little claudia and her newest nerd/student friend... oh I could go on for hours!)

That's good advice that I will try to follow. Thanks for the vote of confidence...

Tickle_Emperor
04-13-2009, 07:29 PM
That was he best thing i've ever read. Im really trying to think of crit right now. The only thing I would say if i was really nitpicking is to describe what the lees were wearing earlier on in the story.

That was great!
- The Emperor

firegod86
04-18-2009, 02:36 AM
Well i'm sorry but i don't like it.

I can see you put some nice effort into it. but all the repetitive hahaha and ahhh ahhh . it really threw me off.
Overall the story seemed basicly like a forced tickle scene and not really like a story at all.

I hope it doesn't seem that i'm being ungrateful or that i am trying to insult you.

I just feel i couldn't be good to you for offering a nice story if i didn't give you my honest opinion but please don't stop if i was cruel in any way.

libtick
04-18-2009, 06:27 AM
Fantastic Story Libstic!:ty:
Good Job (as Always)


That was he best thing i've ever read. Im really trying to think of crit right now. The only thing I would say if i was really nitpicking is to describe what the lees were wearing earlier on in the story.

That was great!
- The Emperor

Thanks for the compliments. It's true that I sometimes forgot to describe clothing, but I try my best...

libtick
04-19-2009, 03:57 PM
Well i'm sorry but i don't like it.

I can see you put some nice effort into it. but all the repetitive hahaha and ahhh ahhh . it really threw me off.
Overall the story seemed basicly like a forced tickle scene and not really like a story at all.

I hope it doesn't seem that i'm being ungrateful or that i am trying to insult you.

I just feel i couldn't be good to you for offering a nice story if i didn't give you my honest opinion but please don't stop if i was cruel in any way.

First, I think it's demeaning to say that I've put some "some nice effort" into it. Your issue is not with the story, it's with the style. If you want style, I suggest you read "Les Misérables" from Victor Hugo.

Second, I think that your intentions were to insult me.

Third, I think that's it's even more demeaning and petty for you to say "please don't stop if I was cruel in any way." I can only deduct from that statement that the intention of your post was to try and stop me from writing. At that point, I'm not sure if I should report that post or not.

May I suggest that instead of putting down other people's work, that you should simply don't read it.

MacD
04-19-2009, 11:45 PM
So why don't people simply add "please write if you like it but not if you don't" below their work ;-)
To be honest I did not go on reading after the first aaaaah aaaaaah. I scrolled down and saw it going on and it is not my style also. Hard to read and for me it does not add value to the story.
Should you feel insulted? No, styles are different. Should you change your styl? No, not if you don't see the same as I do.
So there is no problem if we do not want to find one ;-)

libtick
04-20-2009, 06:08 AM
So why don't people simply add "please write if you like it but not if you don't" below their work ;-)
To be honest I did not go on reading after the first aaaaah aaaaaah. I scrolled down and saw it going on and it is not my style also. Hard to read and for me it does not add value to the story.
Should you feel insulted? No, styles are different. Should you change your styl? No, not if you don't see the same as I do.
So there is no problem if we do not want to find one ;-)

I do agree with that statement. People like writers and clip producers and artists according to their preferences. Because, something doesn't strike my fancy, I don't go yapping about it and go like "Oh my God, this clip was so bad, I thought I was watching FM Concepts. You know unless you want to join FM Concepts keep going, but otherwise you should just stop."

Nuff said

love feet
09-02-2009, 02:54 PM
WoW very good!

libtick
09-08-2009, 05:17 PM
WoW very good!

Thanks very much for the compliments

DarkTitan
12-14-2017, 05:07 PM
Would absolutely love to see where all these series go. Mother and daughter tickled together? Hope I haven't read my last Libtick story....