ticklishscribe
3rd Level Violet Feather
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There is a inspirational pic at the bottom but it is not the member.
It started with a massage
Inspired by a tmf member
Written by Ticklishscribe.
c.
I slowly straddle you, keeping my eyes fixed on your soft skin, following every curve on your upper body from your shoulders to your waist. I giggle quietly, feeling you squirm under me, knowing where I am seated on you and knowing the pleasure you are about to receive. I giggle quietly once more, knowing that you don’t know that this is only the beginning.
You lay outstretched, arms out to each side, face to one side and give me a Mona Lisa look. It is at this point that my fingertips start probing and massaging, bringing a pleasant end to your hard day at work and caressing your shoulders to begin your massage. Even through your jeans I can feel your curvy body under me and I smile at bow beautiful you are.
You giggle again as my fingers now enter the undersides of your shoulder blades and press lightly and outward towards your sides and arms to circle back again. Again I feel how soft your skin is and slow down my hands to make it last for both you and I. Your breathing is more audible now and I can tell you are reacting even more to my touch and I lighten the pressure to make it a little more sensual for you. I now let my fingers spread out over your back and as they massage my thumbs now begin to apply the slightest pressure to your spine. This has you squirming even more and even your legs are now kicking a bit.
However the moan coming from within you is singing a different tune and I like that one just as much. I let my hands fall away from your spine and trickle down your sides and once more the giggles come as I do this I begin kissing your spine as well and to my delight this divides your senses and your pleasure. This was not the kind of massage that you expected, but then I want to keep you on edge and guessing. I want to keep your senses alert and tingling, to keep them blindfolded but aware of my presence and the fact that I WILL strike without notice.
You are all a giggle now, and squirming as well, but trying to remain still and this has me giggling to myself and plotting my next move. My hands now leave your back and sides and I begin slowly sliding them over your jeans covered bum and legs, first letting them trickle down your left leg. You are still squealing and giggling and your legs are now in constant squirm and this has me giggling more to myself. I add a little pressure to my tough and you are now divided between the therapeutic touch and the fact that it tickles a bit nevertheless. Your giggles and squirming get a little more intense as I enter the backs of your knees and touch your ankles and your converse covered feet. Your feet are a big part of my plans and I know that I will have a delicious time in slowly removing your sneakers and socks. The calf of your left leg is so soft and supple and as I apply a little pressure to it, your giggles get stronger and I wonder what your laughter would be like if I was massaging a bare leg. Your laughter is now muffled as you’ve buried your face in the pillow, but I can feel your entire body quivering, to my fervid delight.
I now add your right leg into the mix and your giggles and squirming intensifies a little more. As one hand goes up the other goes down and by the squeals you are trying to quell, I know that I am dividing you further.
“I must say your reaction to this leg massage is exquisite, and it makes me wonder what a good long sensual foot massage would do to you.” The sudden and unstoppable squeal that comes from you tells me all I need to know.
My hands now massage your inner and outer thighs and again you squeal, which again tells me all II need to know. Now massaging your bum, I make sure to wriggle it a little as well and still another squeal erupts from you. My palms caress your sides once more and I make sure to place my fingers outward for maximum coverage. The giggles are still coming from you even though I am trying very hard only to massage.
“Someone has a case of the gigglies and I like. And I am trying very hard to only massage you.” My words fall away though, as I know that you believe only about half of that and I giggle quietly to myself.
The palms of my hands now caress your shoulder blades and then down either side of your spine again and this has you slightly gasp and flinch. My hands flare out as I reach your waist and then retrace the path they’ve just taken. You flinch once more then giggle. I repeat this movement several times over and each time getting another flinch and giggle and this pushes me onward.
“One more body part to go.” I say quietly. “Or is that two, being that you have two of them. And may I compliment you on have the most awesome spine. So sensitive and even a little tickly, to my surprise, and to my delight in case you were wondering.”
You flinch and hiss and I hear the faintest “Oh shit” coming from your lips, as you know where I’m going next and you squeal as two hands softly hold your foot, one holding onto the front of your right ankle and the other holding onto the toe of your converse. I wriggle your foot to tease you and your leg pumps and your foot writhes to find some escape from my grip.
“Have I come to the foot of the problem?” I ask, wiggling once more.
Your answer is more pumping and writhing and your breathing is getting more laboured. Gripping onto the toe of your sneaker I let my other hand tease your lace and another “oh shit” echoes from your lips. I have you now and I slowly begin to tease your lace loose. Judging by the writhing of your foot in my hand I have an idea that you can feel the teasing of the laces tenfold and I smile, knowing that if only one foot and that there is still one more foot to go.
“Careful how you wriggle your foot” I tease, “You’ll make your sneaker fall off, and I don’t think you want to do that.”
You squeal and freeze for a moment, then continue to writhe your foot as I continue to tease the laces. Finally they hang loose and I take great delight in whispering that fact to you. Another “oh shit” and more writhing comes from you and I can’t resist giggling out loud. I grip the toe of your sneaker a little more firmly and I wriggle it from side to side, thereby loosening it on your foot. Instantly you know what I am up to and you writhe your foot to keep it on. It is here that I stop altogether and hopefully let your reactions subside. You stop as well and I can hear your laboured breathing again, knowing that you are intense in wanting to know what my next move is. I let you relax, or at least calm down as I stare at your now twitching foot. Now, and ever so slowly, I touch the back of your ankle, right on the top edge of your sneaker, and slowly slide a single finger from side to side. Immediately your foot writhes again and you squeal a barely audible “No” three times. I stop for a moment then repeat the sliding. Again the word no comes from you and the writing continues. Gently I apply pressure to the back and top of your sneaker where it meets the back of your ankle and begin to lightly push it.
“Oh shit, fuck no!” You hiss, pushing your toe outward to push your sneaker fully back on your heel.
And so the battle of wills has begun: your frantic attempts to keep your sneaker on and my evil will to slowly and sadistically push it off. I press and push firmer and ever so slowly I am beginning to win. But I suddenly stop and let your foot have one more victory as you push it back on, You barely utter the word no three more times and I giggle. I can see your foot is erect and straining to stay in position, but I know that you can’t hold out forever. Pushing again I am slowly winning the battle of wills as I now glimpse the back of your heel and the beginning of another victory. Suddenly the very bottom of your heel comes into view and equally as suddenly your sneakers drops to the floor. You squeal louder than before and your foot writhes intensely as the word “No” comes out in laboured pains. I giggle back and delight in the frantic dance that your foot is now doing, then reach out and grip it. Looking at it, I gaze at a sock that is tight and showing off each one of your toes in great detail and beckoning me to the exquisite pleasures to come. You are now writhing and arching, your foot twisting in my grip, your toes dancing a frenzied ballet and I take in this exquisite scene for all it’s worth and more.
“I love your sock.” I purr, “It’s so revealing your toes to me. And you are revealing your fear of my doing anything to them.”
You bury your face in the pillow and squeal once more, following that with laboured but intense begging. Each word that almost breathlessly comes from you is more exquisitely delicious than the one before and I giggle in reply. I have to grip your foot even tighter to keep it still and I can feel it’s warmth from your struggles even more. You suddenly stop writhing and I know that you are frantically wondering what my next move is and listening intently for my next movement.
“Can you wriggle your toes for me?” I purr again and hear a muffled but squealed no and I giggle once more, knowing that that is the last thing you want to do.
“This sock is so sensually showing off every exquisite sensual detail of your curvy sole and it’s driving me wild.”
Again you squeal but no words follow, but what does come is the most intense writhing I have ever seen from you and I hold my grip.
“It’s such a pity that I have to peel it off at some point. But I do know that based on your reactions so far to your sneaker coming off, that the peeling will be tenfold to you.”
You squeal more intensely and begin rocking from side to side and once again you begin begging. The words are delicious to me as they come out in frantic spurts and fragmented phrases. The panic in your voice is all telling and the fact that you are almost frozen in fear, to not try and escape is a story unto itself. It is at this point I decide to intensify things a little bit and I climb onto the bed and straddle your leg. The mere fact that my body weight is how pinning your whole leg and foot has you writhing even more now and I watch in exquisite delight as your foot flails around. Again the frenzied ballet dance is being performed and again I have a front row seat and again I reach out and grip your foot. Instantly you freeze and I watch as your toes quiver, trying not to move but acting like timid mice hiding from the barnyard cat.
“Did I mention that I have s sadistically sensual and fervidly ravenous appetite for big toes and baby toes?”
More squeals and writhing from you and the mice are now running, your toes clenching tight to not allow the sock to be peeled off and to not allow me any way with them.
“I see I’m going to have to unclench them. Oh well more fun for me.”
You are really frantic now as every which way you turn I seem to be ready and waiting for you and this is driving you wild. Even though I have a firm grip on your foot I can feel a raging power within it and this pleases me no end as I know your senses are totally on the verge of imploding.
“You are so on edge right now,” I purr and giggle, “that all it would take would be one single stroke down the midline of your sole, and you’d be over and in frantic freefall.”
You squeal again and I feel the raging power getting stronger, but still you are virtually frozen in fear, to throw me off and try and escape. This is a pinnacle moment here and you are so on edge that any move I make could set you off like a bomb. I am amazed that you haven’t tried to escape yet knowing just how you are and you wondering how sensually evil I can get. This pleases me no end and I gently touch the tip of my finger to the tip of your big toe. You instantly squeal and equally as instantly your toes unclench and splay out. I reach out and tweak your big toe, wriggling it and bending it back to tease you and this has you squealing again and I have to firm up my grip on your foot once more.
“Such exquisitely active toes you have, does this mean they’re sensitive too?” I want to dive right now and intensely play with them, but I know that playing with you the way I am is getting to you far more.
“Perhaps a toe massage would be more to your liking, as that’s how we started here, wasn’t it?” I run a single finger across the tips of your toes and hear you squeal again and feel you writhe once more as well.
You turn your head to look at me and I smile albeit a bit evilly and I tweak your big toe again. This has you bury your face into the pillow again and squeal once more. Once again I stroke the midline of your sole only this time from toes to heel and as I reach the top portion of your sock I hook a single finger inside of it. You know my next move and instantly start begging me not to do it, but I slowly begin to peel it off your heel. I slowly expose your peachy heel and gaze upon the softness that you have been keeping from me for so long. Peeling still further half of your creamy white sole is revealed and again silky soft skin delights my eyes. I want to start stroking the bare skin right away, but the peeling is just too appealing to stop now. I take a moment to lightly blow on the exposed portion of your sole and this makes you squeal once more and bury your face in the pillow again. I begin peeling once more and begin to expose the ball of your foot where it meets the arch.
“I have read that the ball of the foot where it meets the arch is the most sensitive portion of the sole. Do you find it to be true?”
I know you don’t want to answer that question, so I slowly stroke my index finger on that area twice. This has you burst into giggles that become guttural as your face is buried in the pillow. I stroke again, wriggling my finger this time and again you giggle and now squirm all over. I have to grip your foot tight again and I now continue with the peeling, finally arriving at your toes.
“This little toe got uncovered.” I peel the sock off your baby toe and you giggle again and continue to squirm.
“This little forth toe got uncovered as well.” You continue to giggle and squirm and your toes begin to flex and clench. I take a moment to lightly pull the sock from inside the clenches and it causes you to splay your toes out. I seize the moment and whip the rest of your sock off. Your toes wriggle and clench again.
“Such a heavenly sole with heavenly toes; I must do them justice when I massage.”
The muffled word no comes from your lips and I giggle quietly to myself. I press the palm of my hand against your toes, grip them and begin to slowly massage them by flexing them back and forth. You squeal and flinch, but relax immediately and I can feel the strain on your foot leaving as you relax your leg. I now let my palm rub back and forth over the tips of your toes and again you flinch, go to clench your toes, but stop and relax. I make several slow passes over your toes then stop, feeling the warmth of your sole. Now taking two fingers I proceed to massage your baby toe by rubbing it between my fingers and flexing it at the same time. Your toes immediately flex and wriggle but again relax and I continue the massage.
Mmmmm, you have the perfect toes for a massage; I must do them justice.”
You are now squirming again and I have to grip your foot once more, before turning my attention to your fourth toe. I make sure I get between your toes as well, to give you completeness and to give me the most from your massage. Your toes are exquisite to me and I want to take my sweet time with them, stretching the moment out as long as possible along with stretching your toes.
“This foot is too awesome; I’m so glad you have two of them.”
You squeal once more, knowing that the game I’m playing now, I will soon play on your other foot and I watch with exquisite delight as your other foot writhes.
“But I notice that your sock has left some lint on your sole and I’m wondering if you want me to pick it off?”
Your writhing continues and I can feel the power increasing in the foot I am holding as you try once more to free it. Using two fingers I lightly pick off the lint from your heel and with each touch and pluck I hear you grunt, and I know that you are trying to hold in laughter that is trying to come out. While there only about a half dozen pieces of lint on your foot, your reactions is such that I want to create more and remove them as well. Your foot is twitching, straining and writhing in my grip as I select a spot on your sole and pluck off an imaginary piece of lint.
“There are so many pieces of lint on your sole here that it will take some time to get them all. I want to be thorough you know, so I don’t have to do it again.”
You bury your face in the pillow and I hear strong muffled protests, and this delights me no end. Again I take great care to pluck pieces of lint off your sole, plucking them off your most sensitive areas. This has you grunting more and more and I know that you are close to cracking. I pluck imaginary lint off your instep, the area where the ball meets the arch and in between your toes and this has you more intense in your reactions.
“If your other foot is just as covered with lint this could take a long time, as again, I do want to be thorough so I don’t have to do it all over again.” I know that teases you no end and I continue plucking.
My playing with your foot is one thing to you, but my plucking at your sole is quite another, as you place even more strength in your foot and the grunts come closer together. I know that I have you by the ball, of your foot that is, as your reactions keep getting better and better. I continue to pluck more imaginary lint off your foot and you continue to writhe and grunt.
“Someone is trying to hold out about something.” I tease. “Now what could that be?”
I stop and let go of your foot, and hesitate for a moment in your movement, then begin to relax. I return to your back and continue the massage and watch as you flinch a little as I touch your spine once more. It’s a sensitive area that I must remember for future reference and I stroke single fingers down either side. You turn to look at me and I stop then begin to slowly roll you over. You assist me by rolling over and I look deep into your hazel eyes, which have captivated me ever since we met.
I allow my hands to slowly stroke upward and you flinch as my fingertips lightly touch the bottoms of your armpits. The grunting now returns every time my fingers enter there and I surmise that I have hit another hotspot. Grunts from you I am beginning to like grunts from you, but laughter would be nicer and I wonder if I should enter further. You place your arms tight against your sides and I have this feeling that you’re ticklish and I’m wondering if I should really test the waters. Inserting my fingers between your arms and sides, I delight as you flinch and squirm again, pressing your arms even tighter against your sides to stop the movement of my hands. My fingers wriggle up and enter into your armpits and instant the giggles begin to flow. I have you now and I continue to wriggle my fingers there, but your squirming is getting so intense that I have to straddle you to keep you in place. You are now trying to buck me off but I hold my position and continue tickling. I really have you now and this gives me more ideas to further this pleasurable moment.
Your eyes are clenched tightly shut and your head is violently writhing from side to side. Your hands are reaching up to grab my arms to push them away, but as you do this it allows me a little more room in your armpits and I tickle more. This has you squealing a little as well and I know that I really have something here. Your arms are a bit of a hindrance though and I must deal with them, so I stop tickling and let your reactions subside. I take both your wrists in my hands and pressing your arms on the mattress on either side of you, I lightly press my knee on your right arm as I reach for a restraint on the side of the bed. Quickly wrapping the Velcro strap around your left wrist, I turn my attention to the right one, before you can free your arm. Instantly and again you are trying to buck me off and are now protesting and begging and again I giggle to myself as I survey you. Holding my fingers over your armpits I smile evilly and slowly lower them. Your bucking is continuous and I have to steady myself as they make contact. You’re giggling returns and your bucking gets more intense, as my fingers spider all over, from the outer edges to the deepest recesses. Again your eyes are clenched tightly shut and your head violently writhes from side to side Now I spider out of your armpits and down your sides feeling out your ribs and counting each one out loud to tease you. I feel a knee in my back and have to steady myself again, now realizing that your legs are flailing about and that I must do something about that. But for the moment I continue tickling and loving the fact that you’re writhing the way you are.
Your giggles are now non-stop and they slightly increase when I hit a rib or go into the deepest recess of your armpits, and I make mental notes to return to these areas several times over. The bed is now rocking and I have to steady myself again and so I must tie your legs down. I get off you, and standing there as quiet as possible, watch your struggles subside. You open your eyes and look at me, then look upward, first to your left then to your right, staring intently at the restraints on your wrists. Pulling at then you again look at me and ask then begin begging me to untie you. I smile sweetly and move to the foot of the bed. Instantly your legs begin flailing and writhing again and it is a bit of a struggle to grab the right one. I grab the ankle and feel it twist and turn in my grip and I manage to pull your leg taught, pull you a little down the bed, making your arms taught. Your ankle is straining even more in my grip and I have a fight on my hands to get a restraint around it, but that I do Now there is only your left leg to deal with and I grab your sneakered foot by the toe. You strain your leg and foot and with a kick free it from my hold, but in a few short moments I hold it by the ankle and am reaching for a restraint. Now you are fully tied and I watch as you shake your head no and plead with me to untie you. I smile evilly again and site beside you.
I’m sorry sweetness, but this opportunity is just too exquisite to pass up.”
You beg even more as you see a ski mask in my hand, seeing the lenses painted black and you know that this is a blindfold and that your sight is about to be taken away from you. I place the strap at the back of your writhing head and pull the mask over your eyes, then watch you frantically try to find even the slightest vision. I make a note to be quiet in my movements, so as to heighten what senses you have left. Now there is just one more detail to attend to before I can start tickling you again.
“No,” You cry out, “You have one foot you don’t need the other!”
“Sorry, but I desire if not need, both feet.” I begin unlacing your other converse and immediately your leg pumps hysterically and your foot writhes much the same.
I grab your left sneakered foot, hold it for a few moments then let it go and watch it frantically writhe everywhere. I grab it again you grunt and try to pull it free. I laugh in reply, hold it for a few more moments then let it go. This I do several more times, delighting in your hysteric reactions. I( have total control of your foot and you know it, but still you try to find even the slightest sort of freedom. This is the last sort of thing you want to go through, but I must see the rest of your petite peds and have my way with them. I have the power; I have your foot in my control and at my beckon call as well so I take delight in taking my sweet time in mentally torturing you. I continue unlacing your sneaker and now start wriggling it off your foot, making sure that you can’t press your foot forward and keep it on. Slowly it comes off and I now watch a writhing sock foot. I want to tease your foot as much as possible, before I begin to strip it. The peeling off of your sock is going to be sweet for me and I want to make it last as long as possible.
I drop your sneaker on the floor and you squeal again and your foot continues to writhe. I hold onto it tighter and now glide up and down your sole and this has you grunting even more and now bucking slightly. I have you now and turn back to look at a slightly grimaced face and a body in non-stop twitch.
“Someone doesn’t like this.” I say, and I tickle more. “This definitely does mesh with your senses, doesn’t it.”
You writhe intensely and your feet writhe all over. I want to just grip your toes, bend them back and rake and revv five fingers up and down that now spasming sole. But you deserve something special and I am bound to give your a foot tickling that you would never forget and fondly remember. And I was bound to fondle your feet too. You squeal at feeling my hand clench around your foot and started grunting again. My fingers now slider between your sock and foot and continue toying with your already frantic senses. I can tell that you don’t want to crack; promising me anything if I don’t tickle your feet, maybe even promising me that I can tickle you anywhere else I chose, only not your feet. I giggle evilly again and began to slowly peel the sock down off your ankle. This causes you to writhe and grunt even more as well. I now begin peeling your sock off as slow as possible, knowing that it is driving you insane. Your slender toes are clenched hard; in a last ditch effort to keep your sock from being taken completely off. And so I have to pry the sock off each one and as each toe was uncovered, it clenches itself again. You are now repeatedly bucking on the bed and straining at the bonds that held you. Every ounce of strength you had left is being used to free your foot from its imminent torment.
"Is it time for some tickles?" I announced, cupping my right hand under her left heel then firmly gripping the foot. You now go wild under me, begging for me not to do tickle and promising me again that I can tickle you anywhere else. My response was a quick spider tickle up your spasming sole, bringing sudden but more intense grunting and violent writhing. Your head and bum now repeatedly pounded the mattress and you again put all of your strength into freeing your foot.
”I’m sorry what was that you were saying? I didn’t hear you clearly.” I spider tickle again and still more grunting and writhing comes from you, and this makes me giggle under my breath. I have your foot in the cup of my hand and my and you totally in the palm of my hand. I am amazed how a size five foot, can be so hugely ticklish, how you are putting up one hell of a fight to keep from laughing and how you are getting ever closer to the edge and can do nothing to stop it.
“In case you’d forgotten, there’s still your other foot to bare and tickle, and that gives me something to look forward to.”
You squeal then quickly shut your mouth again and I know I have you even more. You had completely forgotten about your other foot and my reminding you, must have struck a chord of fear. I watch as your toes writhe and scrunch then writhe again, trying desperately to find any sort of refuge from being tickled and tortured.
“Are you trying to tell me something with those toes or yours, because I’m definitely getting a message.”
You squeal sharply again then stop and I know that you suddenly realized you have revealed a secret to me. I remember another secret you accidentally let out in that the fuzziness of pipe cleaners between your toes would be a killer and so I reach for one. I pull both ends taught and let it slide between your big and second toes, then slowly slide it back and forth. There is only one grunt from you followed by the word fuck screamed and instantly followed by hysterical laughter and intense writhing. I have hit the hotspot and you are really letting me know it. No matter where your foot writhes, I easily follow it, and effortlessly slide the pipe cleaner back and forth between your toes. Your laughter has been replaced by screaming and I call to you above it, that you’ll never grunt again, as along as I have anything to do with it. I think myself lucky that the walls in your place do not allow sound to go through then to your neighbours on either side of you or across the hall.
You are desperately trying not to scream, but the tickling is virtually blocking out any attempts to do so. The writhing and bucking on the bed is beginning to subside and I know that I am slowly winning the war on your struggling. I announce that your left foot is now totally mine for the taking and the continued tickling and you squeal once more then resume laughing. I instantly stop sliding the pipe cleaner, pull it out and ten-finger tickle your sole from toes to heel; but paying special attention to your arch and the ball of your foot. Your foot writhes all over and I am really charged as I effortlessly follow and continuously tickle it. I want to continue to do this for some time to come, but a writhing right foot tells me that it needs to be de-sneakered and de-socked as well. I suddenly stop and announce my intentions.
Your right foot writhes ever more intensely now as I place my chair in front of your right leg. Playing catch as catch can I grab the tow of your converse hold it for a few seconds, then let writhe free, letting you feel a small victory before I take it away again. After a few times of this I grab the toe and hold it firmly, then slowly begin teasing its lace. You are now frantic again and now begging me not to remove it, asking me why I need two bare feet, when they’re the same. Again your foot hysterically and intensely writhes and again I increase my grip and continue the teasing. I reply back that no two feet are alike, even on the same person and that I want to see if this foot is even more ticklish and your toes even more pipe cleaner sensitive.
You scream as you feel your laces come loose and scream again as you feel both my hands gripping your sneaker and beginning to slowly wrestle it off. As the last of it comes off your foot writhes again and again I play catch as catch can, letting you have that momentary victory over and over again, before I dash your hopes with a firm grip and a tweak of your toes. Again you scream as I tease the top of your sock and begin tugging it down your ankle. I have never seen you so frantic, so physically hysterical and so intense in your struggling. The memory of your left foot and what tortures I have just put it through is thoroughly engraved in your mind, and now you are more desperate than ever to keep your right foot from being subjected to the same. I decide to deprive you of any more victories and pull your sock off completely and this has you squeal, scream and get even more hysterical in your writhing. The time has come to really put your feet through their paces, and oh how I would love to see your eyes right now, to see them begging me not to tickle, not to torture and not to be as sensually sadistic as I have been. I grip your right foot and then take a moment to admire and survey it in detail, making sure I don’t miss even so much as any curvature that could assist me in tickling you. You have the feet of my dreams and I want to memorize and engrave every detail of them on my brain, as you won’t allow me to take pics of your tickling. I love your small round toes, your white arches and balls and your peachy heels, that are so easy to grip and hold firm. I watch as you try desperately not to move your toes, to give away any further secrets about them, but my tweaking one causes them to splay out then curl up. I am delighted in your reaction I tell you and hope that you will do that many more times for me. I know you are desperately craving and searching for the right words to stop this, but I also know that I can interrupt your train of thought at any time, with just a tweak of your toes or stroke of your sole and this I use to keep you off balance. And this I will continuously do.
But you are not the only one with divided senses, as I not only want to continue tickling you, but also make love to you as well. The hugging, kissing and caressing on the couch that we'd done has pushed me closer and closer. Now I remember that in our online conversations, you didn’t want it, but as we’ve gotten to know more about each other in person, I have been picking up little signals that you may have changed your mind. Earlier on I had grazed a hand over the crotch of your jeans and you had flinched but not protested in any way. Now I am wondering what you would do or say, if I were too suddenly and ever so slowly unbuckle your belt. Would you protest and tell me no and that this tickling is over, and even that perhaps it might it be best if I packed up and left. Or would you squirm, teasing me with your subtle body language and hinting.
I suddenly spidertickle your heel and instantly you start squirming and grunting again. I have to grip your foot by the toes to continue and I now slowly spidertickle up your sole. You are now writhing and your grunting is more audible as I get closer and closer to your arch and I take a little side trip onto your instep, and this has you jerk and try to pull your foot away. I increase my grip and laugh at you, continuing the tickling as I do. I know that you know that I am teasing you by not entering your arch right away and so I spider the edge of it where it meets the instep. You writhe and grunt in rapid succession and I laugh out loud and tell you that the moment is coming, but only when I decide. I really want to zoom in and tickle you intensely there, but I also want to savor the moment and keep you on edge.
“You do have a problem with your feet don’t you and I think that part of that problem is me, I’m happy to say. When ever you’re ready for me to enter your arch you just say the word.” I know that you saying any word would immediately lead to unstoppable laughter and this would put the icing on my cake and take yours. Yes I will have my cake and eat yours too and that pleases me no end.
I began to five finger stroke her left arch up and down again and your writhing became intense once more. I increased my spider tickling and began raking my fingers from heel up and onto the instep then back down again. This drives you even wilder and I have to grip her foot tighter to keep it still. My nimble fingers are quick, relentless and torturous and don’t miss a micrometer if ticklish skin. I just loved tickling feet, especially arches and I am going to give you the works and more.
“I forgot to tell you girl, that the more I tickle, the more charged up I become. Which means you will be here a while, and so on that note you better get comfortable, or as comfortable as you can get.”
I then quickly and repetitively short stroke a single finger all over the instep and the tickling sensations make you wrench in her bonds even more. To my surprise and delight, you are now having seizures and conniptions one after the other and your grunting is still almost continuous. I have found the challenge to make you laugh so exquisite and continue to tease you.
“What say you sweetness, some more tickling.” Another question that I didn’t make a question. You are too busy grunting and writhing to answer, but I know that your present reactions won’t last long.
I delight in now using two fingers on your spasming foot and I continue to go from heel to instep. I increase the torment and bring out a little more wild in the wildcat. I continue now with an erratic but incessant stroking and you writhe in ticklish agony. Your foot is totally in a firm grip now and I look back at you to see you gritting your teeth, trying to endure, but I know that the tickling sensations are surrounding you, wearing you down, over powering you and the grip on your sanity, which is rapidly disappearing. I smile as still more grunts came from you and the more you grunt and writhe the more I tickle. And the more I tickle, the more you grunt and writhe.
“Vicious little circle isn’t it sweetheart. Just the way you like it.” I laugh knowing that it is totally not how you like, but you have no say in the matter at hand. Your body movements continue to be wild, erratic and intense and I can tell that the incessant tickling of your heel to instep is way beyond torture.
"I don't know about you girl, but I'm in heaven. And if I'm in heaven, you must be in hell." I cruise the entire fine line that separates the arch from the instep, and still more of the same reactions echo from you. Reactions that make me grin evilly and do it again. I can tell you are barely holding onto what is left of your sanity by a thread. That you are in ticklish abandon and torturous agony and that your mind, nervous system and senses are all starving for some relief. And so I suddenly stop.
“Ah your reactions are everything and more that even my online chats with you couldn’t describe. And it’s a good thing I saved all those online chats too as they made an exquisite reference for my tickling plan.”
You are now squirming, but your foot is still writhing in my grip.
“Remember how I said I would take your arms above your head, slowly part your shirt and go for the armpits, but straddle you first. And I remember how you replied, that your senses get mangled just thinking of it.”
“Remember how I told you that another technique I use is to take a single finger and stretch the armpit skin tight and then rapidly short stroke the pit with the qulll end of a feather and that I’d tickle you untill you laugh whole heartedly? What was it you replied; I would love it.”
You jerk and squirm more intensely as you suddenly remember those words and I can tell that you now regret every one.
“Remember I said that I think I would have to tie your hands above you then slowly wriggle my fingers onto your breasts, and tickle all around, even including your nipples, and how you replied, oh my god that would drive me crazy. Well the thought of driving you crazy certainly appeals to me right now, but…”
You continue to squirm and I loosen my grip on your foot to feel it writhe more, feeling your soft skin pressing against the palm of my hand.
“Ah yes, and how moving down my tickling octopus fingers would ballet all over your ribs, all the while slowly and sensually sliding across them and pinching then as well. How you said that you would love to have that done. Such words I can almost imagine you are now regretting big time.
Your reaction doesn’t change and your silence by not responding to my statements is almost deafening as I know that you are now cursing to yourself, for not keeping your damn mouth shut. A part of you is also wishing that I hadn’t saved any of those chats.
“Ah yes, it’s all coming back to you now. Like the end of a hangover from getting totally loaded the night before, and now you’re remembering exactly what happened. Sort of like going to bed with some guy and doing it or suddenly seeing the tattoo that you don’t remember getting. Well maybe your words are your tattoo. Shall I draw more of a picture to help you remember?”
Again more squirming, more writhing of your foot and more silence and I can tell that it really is coming back to you. But just to be sure, I put the icing on the cake.
“I clearly remember saying that I would blindfold you followed by slow strokes down your forearms, down your armpits and ribs, and then... you would feel the slow unbuckling of your belt. Did someone say, well you know. And didn’t you say that I really knew how to make a person melt and squirm. I was totally taken aback by that comment and so I belatedly thank your for it.”
I hear a muffled but apparent “Oh shit” comes from your lips, as you suddenly realize that I am using your words against you in a verbal torture and that it’s driving you crazy
“And then how I started to talk about my next target, but didn’t mention it yet and how you told me that your mind was captivated. I think what you were trying not to say, that your mind was captive; my prisoner. I remember asking if it was getting hot where you were and how you thoroughly delighted me by replying that it was scorching.”
Again continued reactions and silence.
“I remember saying how the sensual aroma of your foot was teasing me and that I was eye to eye with your toes which suited me just fine, and so I begin slowly kissing your arch. Now that pleased you. But what pleased me was you responding, that if I revved my fingers on the soles of your feet, you would find it maddening yet satisfying. That reply has been on my mind ever since.”
Instantly you start writhing again and I hear the words, ”Oh shit” once more, and this has me pleased no end and wanting to do that right now. But I have more verbal torture for you.
And what’s that old saying? The best is yet to come. Or in your case cum, as I asked you about privates tickling. Ah yes, it was tickling with the panties on and pleasure with them off. And of course the icing on my cake was hearing you say that; all of this sounds so great.”
You are now suddenly still and totally riveted by my words and your words and I can tell the hangover has totally worn off and that you can really see the verbal tattoo now. I slowly release my grip on your foot, turn around and sit on the left side of the bed by your waist, and slowly begin to unbuckle your belt.
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