Author's note: For best results, shake well, served chilled over ice... (yes, this is a Starbucks frappuccino induced story) er... no... sorry... cough... ah...
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Helen was having some back problems. She was sure that this was related to her job as she had to stand on her feet all day. A co-worker suggested that she go see Dr. Marcus over at the reflexology clinic.
"Really?" Helen looked at Susan skeptically.
"Yes! I go once a week. Dr. Marcus is the best!" She gave Helen a wink, presented her with a business card which had the name, address and phone number on it. On the bottom is said **Walk-ins welcome** "Great!" Helen said to herself. She put the card in her pocket, then turned and continued on with her duties.
Well, maybe... Helen thought to herself... she pressed on the small of her back. God knows, I've tried everything else... and it was on the way home from work. Hmmm...
Quiting time arrived and as she walked to her car, Helen could feel that familiar knot in her back. If left untreated, it would lay her up for a day... or worse. Traffic was typical for the rush hour drive home. She pulled up to the little square building. Couple of cars, still open... good! Hmm, must be a private business. She go out of the car and locked it with the key fob. The business hours and information were posted on the glass door. Lot of letters in front of the doctor's name. She felt a twinge in her back as she opened the door and walked in. There was nothing extraordinary about the place; fake potted plant in the corner, slightly worn couch, out dated magazines strewn across a low coffee table, reception desk maned by an older woman who wore black rimmed glasses.
"Can I help you?" the receptionist asked, as she looked over the tops of her glasses.
"Do you have any openings?" Helen asked, half expecting to be turned down.
The older lady looked at the appointment calender that was on her computer screen. She clicked her tongue several times. "No, hmm... no, looks like your in luck. He just had a cancellation about an hour ago. Name?" Helen gave her one of her business cards that she always kept in her purse. "Thank you." Information was exchanged and soon Helen was escorted to the doctor's office.
"If you would like to take a seat on the examination chair, the doctor will be with you shortly."
Famous last words, Helen thought to herself. It was hardly ever shortly. She made a quick survey of the room. It was spartan, it was clean (of course), cabinets, a desk. The most interesting article in the room was the examination chair itself. At the foot of it was what looked like what could be best described as, a pair of very thickly padded metal ankle bracelets, built into the chair! Suddenly, the door opened and Dr. Marcus came into the room. He reached out his hand and concluded the normal salutations.
"What seems to be the trouble?" he asked. He was looking at her feet, trying to guess her size.
"My back" she replied. "It's killing me."
"Well, I can fix that up in a jiffy and I think that you'll enjoy the treatment to boot! Six is it?" He looked at a chart on the wall.
"What?" she asked, a bit puzzled.
"Your shoe size," he paused... "of course."
"Yes, six." Helen perplexedly answered. This was all happening too fast. She knew that she ought to be the one asking the questions.
"If you would be as so kind as to sit down on the exam chair, we can get started." Dr. Marcus pulled out a brace looking thing from the closet and affixed it to the chair, just beyond the ankle bracelets. As Helen was trying to figure out how to get into the thing, Dr. Marcus continued.
"The mind is a wonderful thing. You see, we are just now starting to figure out how it works." Helen slipped her ankles over the braces. The good doctor closed them around her ankles as he continued with his rehearsed speech. "The part of the brain which controls sexual urges just happens to be adjacent to the part of the brain which gives us a tendency for foot fetish. The trick is to try and create a neural connection between the two. He carefully removed her shoes and socks. Helen wiggled her toes. It felt really good to finally get out of those shoes. "Reflexology is the lock," Dr. Marcus concluded. He reached into the drawer of his desk and pulled out a small stiff feather. "...and I have the key."
Helen's eyes nearly popped out of her head. Before she could digest this sudden twist of events, she felt the feather slowly creep up the spine pressure point. She giggled half out of shock, half out of necessity.
"Now doctor Marcus, I really don't see how...hee hee hee."
He reversed the ticklish move on the other foot.
"Good response," he noted out loud. "Just try and relax and enjoy it. We are far from over yet."
He tickled the spine pressure point very fast now, alternating on each foot. Helen bit he lip and tried to remain silent. Then the feather moved from the instep to the bottom half of the foot. "This should help with your lower back." He said, swishing the feather back and forth. Helen choked off intermittent giggles. It really tickled and she knew that any other areas would only tickle worse. He made figure eights with the tip of the feather and varied the pattern as much as possible. Then he dragged the entire vain of the feather across the stomach area, past the diaphragm, arriving at the lung or upper back portion. Helen went nuts, laughing hysterically as she rocked back and forth screaming with laughter in the chair. He pressed the feather in harder now as he tickled the ear/eye location, just under the toes. Helen was getting short on breath now. Suddenly Dr. Marcus stopped tickling her. As she started to begin to catch her breath, she noticed a tingling in her crotch. What was happening? Was the tickling really beginning to turn her on? It was at this point that Dr. Marcus slipped on a pair of headphones over Helen's ears and a blindfold over her eyes...
The voice in the headphones was a deep, soothing, male voice, a James Earl Jones type of voice.
"I've been waiting... waiting for you all day." The voice continues. "As I come into the bedroom, I untie my necktie and try to relax. Then you come into the room. Your wearing that silky, slightly transparent nightie. You know the one, the one that goes with the pair of those matching pink panties. You play with the drawstring of the blouse as you come over to greet me with a kiss. It is a long kiss, a long and sloppy kiss. You can feel my tongue tickling you under your lips, our tongues touching, exploring. We lightly suck each others breath and make this kiss tighter. As we kiss, you can feel my firm hands, caressing your shoulders. You sense movement as I slowly back you into a corner of the room. Kissing, always kissing. You feel the coolness of the corner of the wall against your small, cute bottom. I put the palms of my hands into yours and pull them up over your head. You can feel the bulge in my pants growing as you slowly grind it with your vulva. Up and down, up and down, always kissing. You giggle...
...not the giggle of sexual excitement, but the giggle of lightly being tickled on the soles of the feet, as once again the maddening tickle returned. The voice track stopped. Still blind folded and deaf from the disabled headphones, Helen could feel fingertips, lightly dancing over her ticklish soles. The giggle of sexual excitement slowly morphing once again into one of physical ticklish delight. Helen now cut off from two of her senses, sight & sound, was keenly aware that she was getting wet. The line of sexual tickling and physical tickling was becoming blurred and she had no control of either sensation. She laughed out of frustration now. She wanted it to stop, or at least become better defined. Was this tickling for tickling sake or for sexual release? She felt her toes being pulled apart now, felt the vain of the feather lightly sawing back and forth at each toe's base as though the feather was cutting down a ticklish toe tree. Helen laughed like she was becoming crazed.
Then the feather became wet. Helen's mind was too far gone to process the information clearly, correctly. It was light, cool, wet in between her toes, and it tickled so damn much! The moistness searched, probed all around her toes. Under the folds of her toe pads, ticking her toe whorls, on the cuticles of her toenails, around the sides of her toes... it was pulling at her toes like some kind of ticklish vacuum. He was sucking her toes. The emotional pendulum slowly, steadily, swung the other way. He continued to rake her soles with his fingernails as he gently sucked her toes. The synapses in the locations of her brain; pleasure/ foot/ sexual/, all became fused. Her laughter became more urgent now, higher pitched, racing towards a conclusion. So wet... down there... she felt her sexual muscles tighten, then relax. Laughing in spasms... tighten faster, more regular... tickling the crest of an orgasm. Wet, sloppy toe sucking... flush...fanning toes out... fingernails scratching, exciting every inch of ticklish nerve endings... Vagina contractions in sync with laughing moans... higher... higher... urgent... crying in between gasps of air... orgasm... hard... peeing, but not... OH MY GOD!... over and over... twinkling points of light... release... subsiding giggles... tingle...
Dr. Marcus removed the blindfold and headset.
"How's the back, better?"
Helen drenched in sweat, could only utter an affirmative grunt.
"Now I want to see you whenever your back is giving you problems." Helen looked down at him while he removed her confinements and put her socks and shoes back on. She mumbled a feeble "Sure", as she got up and checked herself. She picked up her purse and walked towards the door.
"The mind is a wonderful thing..." the male voice said. Helen didn't exactly know if Dr. Marcus had said it or it just popped in her head. She gave him one last glance and closed the door behind her. The receptionist smiled at her as she left.
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The sound of tapping computer keys filled the quiet little room. Mark took a swig of Starbucks frappuccino and finished off the small bottle. He wrote the last line of the tickling story with satisfaction.
"The mind is a wonderful thing..."
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Helen was having some back problems. She was sure that this was related to her job as she had to stand on her feet all day. A co-worker suggested that she go see Dr. Marcus over at the reflexology clinic.
"Really?" Helen looked at Susan skeptically.
"Yes! I go once a week. Dr. Marcus is the best!" She gave Helen a wink, presented her with a business card which had the name, address and phone number on it. On the bottom is said **Walk-ins welcome** "Great!" Helen said to herself. She put the card in her pocket, then turned and continued on with her duties.
Well, maybe... Helen thought to herself... she pressed on the small of her back. God knows, I've tried everything else... and it was on the way home from work. Hmmm...
Quiting time arrived and as she walked to her car, Helen could feel that familiar knot in her back. If left untreated, it would lay her up for a day... or worse. Traffic was typical for the rush hour drive home. She pulled up to the little square building. Couple of cars, still open... good! Hmm, must be a private business. She go out of the car and locked it with the key fob. The business hours and information were posted on the glass door. Lot of letters in front of the doctor's name. She felt a twinge in her back as she opened the door and walked in. There was nothing extraordinary about the place; fake potted plant in the corner, slightly worn couch, out dated magazines strewn across a low coffee table, reception desk maned by an older woman who wore black rimmed glasses.
"Can I help you?" the receptionist asked, as she looked over the tops of her glasses.
"Do you have any openings?" Helen asked, half expecting to be turned down.
The older lady looked at the appointment calender that was on her computer screen. She clicked her tongue several times. "No, hmm... no, looks like your in luck. He just had a cancellation about an hour ago. Name?" Helen gave her one of her business cards that she always kept in her purse. "Thank you." Information was exchanged and soon Helen was escorted to the doctor's office.
"If you would like to take a seat on the examination chair, the doctor will be with you shortly."
Famous last words, Helen thought to herself. It was hardly ever shortly. She made a quick survey of the room. It was spartan, it was clean (of course), cabinets, a desk. The most interesting article in the room was the examination chair itself. At the foot of it was what looked like what could be best described as, a pair of very thickly padded metal ankle bracelets, built into the chair! Suddenly, the door opened and Dr. Marcus came into the room. He reached out his hand and concluded the normal salutations.
"What seems to be the trouble?" he asked. He was looking at her feet, trying to guess her size.
"My back" she replied. "It's killing me."
"Well, I can fix that up in a jiffy and I think that you'll enjoy the treatment to boot! Six is it?" He looked at a chart on the wall.
"What?" she asked, a bit puzzled.
"Your shoe size," he paused... "of course."
"Yes, six." Helen perplexedly answered. This was all happening too fast. She knew that she ought to be the one asking the questions.
"If you would be as so kind as to sit down on the exam chair, we can get started." Dr. Marcus pulled out a brace looking thing from the closet and affixed it to the chair, just beyond the ankle bracelets. As Helen was trying to figure out how to get into the thing, Dr. Marcus continued.
"The mind is a wonderful thing. You see, we are just now starting to figure out how it works." Helen slipped her ankles over the braces. The good doctor closed them around her ankles as he continued with his rehearsed speech. "The part of the brain which controls sexual urges just happens to be adjacent to the part of the brain which gives us a tendency for foot fetish. The trick is to try and create a neural connection between the two. He carefully removed her shoes and socks. Helen wiggled her toes. It felt really good to finally get out of those shoes. "Reflexology is the lock," Dr. Marcus concluded. He reached into the drawer of his desk and pulled out a small stiff feather. "...and I have the key."
Helen's eyes nearly popped out of her head. Before she could digest this sudden twist of events, she felt the feather slowly creep up the spine pressure point. She giggled half out of shock, half out of necessity.
"Now doctor Marcus, I really don't see how...hee hee hee."
He reversed the ticklish move on the other foot.
"Good response," he noted out loud. "Just try and relax and enjoy it. We are far from over yet."
He tickled the spine pressure point very fast now, alternating on each foot. Helen bit he lip and tried to remain silent. Then the feather moved from the instep to the bottom half of the foot. "This should help with your lower back." He said, swishing the feather back and forth. Helen choked off intermittent giggles. It really tickled and she knew that any other areas would only tickle worse. He made figure eights with the tip of the feather and varied the pattern as much as possible. Then he dragged the entire vain of the feather across the stomach area, past the diaphragm, arriving at the lung or upper back portion. Helen went nuts, laughing hysterically as she rocked back and forth screaming with laughter in the chair. He pressed the feather in harder now as he tickled the ear/eye location, just under the toes. Helen was getting short on breath now. Suddenly Dr. Marcus stopped tickling her. As she started to begin to catch her breath, she noticed a tingling in her crotch. What was happening? Was the tickling really beginning to turn her on? It was at this point that Dr. Marcus slipped on a pair of headphones over Helen's ears and a blindfold over her eyes...
The voice in the headphones was a deep, soothing, male voice, a James Earl Jones type of voice.
"I've been waiting... waiting for you all day." The voice continues. "As I come into the bedroom, I untie my necktie and try to relax. Then you come into the room. Your wearing that silky, slightly transparent nightie. You know the one, the one that goes with the pair of those matching pink panties. You play with the drawstring of the blouse as you come over to greet me with a kiss. It is a long kiss, a long and sloppy kiss. You can feel my tongue tickling you under your lips, our tongues touching, exploring. We lightly suck each others breath and make this kiss tighter. As we kiss, you can feel my firm hands, caressing your shoulders. You sense movement as I slowly back you into a corner of the room. Kissing, always kissing. You feel the coolness of the corner of the wall against your small, cute bottom. I put the palms of my hands into yours and pull them up over your head. You can feel the bulge in my pants growing as you slowly grind it with your vulva. Up and down, up and down, always kissing. You giggle...
...not the giggle of sexual excitement, but the giggle of lightly being tickled on the soles of the feet, as once again the maddening tickle returned. The voice track stopped. Still blind folded and deaf from the disabled headphones, Helen could feel fingertips, lightly dancing over her ticklish soles. The giggle of sexual excitement slowly morphing once again into one of physical ticklish delight. Helen now cut off from two of her senses, sight & sound, was keenly aware that she was getting wet. The line of sexual tickling and physical tickling was becoming blurred and she had no control of either sensation. She laughed out of frustration now. She wanted it to stop, or at least become better defined. Was this tickling for tickling sake or for sexual release? She felt her toes being pulled apart now, felt the vain of the feather lightly sawing back and forth at each toe's base as though the feather was cutting down a ticklish toe tree. Helen laughed like she was becoming crazed.
Then the feather became wet. Helen's mind was too far gone to process the information clearly, correctly. It was light, cool, wet in between her toes, and it tickled so damn much! The moistness searched, probed all around her toes. Under the folds of her toe pads, ticking her toe whorls, on the cuticles of her toenails, around the sides of her toes... it was pulling at her toes like some kind of ticklish vacuum. He was sucking her toes. The emotional pendulum slowly, steadily, swung the other way. He continued to rake her soles with his fingernails as he gently sucked her toes. The synapses in the locations of her brain; pleasure/ foot/ sexual/, all became fused. Her laughter became more urgent now, higher pitched, racing towards a conclusion. So wet... down there... she felt her sexual muscles tighten, then relax. Laughing in spasms... tighten faster, more regular... tickling the crest of an orgasm. Wet, sloppy toe sucking... flush...fanning toes out... fingernails scratching, exciting every inch of ticklish nerve endings... Vagina contractions in sync with laughing moans... higher... higher... urgent... crying in between gasps of air... orgasm... hard... peeing, but not... OH MY GOD!... over and over... twinkling points of light... release... subsiding giggles... tingle...
Dr. Marcus removed the blindfold and headset.
"How's the back, better?"
Helen drenched in sweat, could only utter an affirmative grunt.
"Now I want to see you whenever your back is giving you problems." Helen looked down at him while he removed her confinements and put her socks and shoes back on. She mumbled a feeble "Sure", as she got up and checked herself. She picked up her purse and walked towards the door.
"The mind is a wonderful thing..." the male voice said. Helen didn't exactly know if Dr. Marcus had said it or it just popped in her head. She gave him one last glance and closed the door behind her. The receptionist smiled at her as she left.
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The sound of tapping computer keys filled the quiet little room. Mark took a swig of Starbucks frappuccino and finished off the small bottle. He wrote the last line of the tickling story with satisfaction.
"The mind is a wonderful thing..."
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