Mike sat in one of the highest points in the small stadium to watch the college women's soccer team. He didn't care much about the score or who his university's opponent was. Instead, he watched Jamie through his binoculars. He studied how she moved and how she ran. He watched her lean but powerful legs carry her over the field. Mike took in how her rear end, certainly mostly muscle, flexed as she charged the ball. The rangefinder let him magnify her perfect face. He almost had a plan together for how he would give her the greatest tickling of her, and his, life.
First he had to practice a few more concepts. A quick trip to the hardware store equipped him with his first "tickle kit". He rented a room at the Holiday Inn for a day and night. When the time was right for Jamie, everything had to be perfect. Nothing could be left to chance; better to practice now on a less "valuable" target.
Perfect Ten Escorts provided him with his opportunity. That evening, around 9:30, two people arrived at Mike's hotel door. A very large man and a much smaller, attractive woman. Of course, Mike gave her permission to come in. She was the one he'd called for, after all.
Marie was in her mid 30's and resembled an average American, albeit shorter at only 5'2". She weighed around 125 lbs and had slightly wide hips but a small torso. With her pale white skin and dark, short wavy hair she could be considered attractive. Her face was considered quite pretty by some, resembling Gillian Anderson. Perhaps this is what made her a successful escort. She dressed in a tailored, fashionable pinstriped business suit, wearing a white oxford shirt that highly complemented her 34c-28-36 figure.
Marie spoke. She had slightly scratchy voice and a mild southern accent.
They spoke for a while, long enough for her to really trust Mike (though she only knew him as David). Marie took out her tape recorder from her purse. She turned it off and using her cell phone notified her security escort that everything was ok.
It seemed that "David" had paid for 3 hours time, and didn't want to do much more than talk. Mike eventually steered the conversation to tickling.
"Well, I'm really not that ticklish anymore. I was when I was a kid, but my parents tickled me so much that I learned to control it. Except under my arms and on my feet. Those are the only places I'm still a little ticklish".
Mike proceeded. "What happens if someone tickles you there?".
Marie wasn't stupid. She smiled and said triumphantly, as if she'd unlocked the theory of gravity, "You have a tickle fetish!"
Mike wasn't embarassed at all. "I do, I do!"
"Well, I'm sorry I'm not really ticklish", she said in her southern voice.
Mike was undeterred. He had a sixth sense about these things.
"Oh, that's ok. You said you were a little on your feet and underarms though. What would happen if somebody got you there?" Mike was being quite cool. He smiled and never intimated that he might actually tickle her.
"Under my arms, I just usually move away. I won't laugh. If it's my feet, though, I start giggling. But it's nothing like some people who are really bad".
"I bet you're a lot more ticklish than you say!", Mike teased.
"I don't think so" she said with a hint of defiance.
"I'll give you $100 extra dollars if you let me test you out. If you don't laugh, I'll give you $150".
"No problem! I love taking money!" she laughed.
Marie stood up and took off her jacket. Her eyes were a very pretty light green that went well with her light skin and dark hair. She stood spread eagle and assumed an almost defiant facial expression
Mike stood behind Marie and started to frisk her lightly, being very sure not to seem aggressive. Mike squeezed and stroked, but Marie's sides were not sensitive to stroking or gentle poking. Her ribs weren't ticklish at all. Nor was her belly. Her hips and knees were immune. He even tried light stroking of her neck. She wasn't ticklish at all, or at least was very good at controlling it.
"Told you so!", she said.
Mike reached underneath Marie's outstretched arms, however, and got a sudden gasp. "Oh-ho!" Marie bent forward and dropped her arms. The sudden tickle took her breath away, but she didn't laugh. Mike kept tickling underneath Marie's arms. Marie twisted, but never laughed.
"OK, OK, that tickles! You can stop now!".
Mike gave her $150. "Pretty good! How about your feet?"
"No problem. Another $150, and I'll let you try it".
Mike was surprised at how insensitive Marie was. He found that Marie's body was, while not fat, considerably soft, like someone who didn't exercise much but had a reasonable amount of muscle. He started to think she really was quite pretty and might be able to pass for Gillian Anderson if she had to.
Marie sat in a chair at the edge of the bed and removed her shoes. She wore no socks or stockings. Marie stretched her right leg over to the Mike so her feet could be tested. Marie set a firm mental determination not to laugh or show the slightest signs of sensitivity.
Mike started to stroke Marie's feet. Despite herself, Marie instantly tossed her head back and started laughing a slightly deep, hoarse southern-accented laugh. She put one hand on her forehead and the other over her stomach.
"Ha ha ha ha! Oh stop! Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha! OK! I'm ticklish there! Ha ha ha ha! Oh David! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
Marie didn't have the leg strength to pull her foot away. Mike kept tickling her feet to see if any desensitization occurred or if Marie could control the laughter. Instead, it only seemed to get harder and louder. She wrapped her arms around her waist almost as if she could hold in the laughter.
"AAH! Donhahahahahaha! OH! Ha Ha HA HA HAHA NO! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Mike realized Marie's reactions became stronger rather than weaker. Marie tried her best to control the laughter, but she found it only got worse, and turned into a strong steady stream. As she laughed, Marie fell back on the bed and beat it with her fists. Mike was ready with his "tickle kit". He'd already fastened a noose of hard rubber underneath the chair. Now he slipped it over her ankle. Her foot was held in place against the arm of the chair.
Mike fumbled with it for a few seconds. This was practice, after all. Marie caught her breath and looked up. "Ass…what are you…". She pulled her leg, but found it was secured to the chair. The chair moved, of course, the second Mike leapt from it onto the bed. Before Marie knew it, her right wrist was zip-tied to a length of chain fastened around the foot of the bed.
Marie started to punch at Mike with her left arm and yell. Mike endured the punches and ripped a length of duct tape across her mouth. Marie's eyes were wide open now. She was terrified. Mike secured her other arm to the bed using the same technique. Then despite her kicks, Marie's left foot was secured to the other arm of the bed. Mike had taken quite a beating during this process, something he'd have to avoid when facing the athletic Jamie.
He took a deep breath and pondered what he'd done. He looked at Marie, who was now truly a captive. His heartbeat pounded his chest and he shook like a leaf in a hurricane. Marie was obviously frightened; an unintended effect of being captured. He would have to eliminate that too.
He took the tape off her mouth.
"Be quiet, be quiet…I'm not going to hurt you".
Marie's voice trembled. "OK David. Just relax. Stay cool. You better let me go. You can go to jail for this. You let me go now"
Mike moved down to her feet and started to run his fingers up and down her soles.
Marie started to shout and laugh. "Stop that! Ha ha ha. What's wrong with you? Ha ha ha ha". Her feet twitched as best they could. Mike kept running his fingers over her soles. "Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Stop it!"
"Remember when you said I have a tickle fetish?" he asked her. Marie nodded through her laughter.
"Well, I'm going to tickle you for a while". Marie didn't think this was possible. She didn't believe this was really going to happen. She prided herself in being able to control her sensitivity, but deep down she knew how ticklish her feet were. Marie had incredible willpower. She could suppress her reactions for a little while, usually long enough for people who tried to tickle her feet to lose interest. She didn't think she could keep it up for very long.
"Ha ha ha ha! NO! PLEASE! Ha ha ha ha! OH! Stop! I can't take it! Stop!"
"What happened to not being very ticklish, Marie?"
"OH! Ha ha ha ha! I can't! Ha ha ha ha! OHHH! Ha ha ha ha ha ha! AAH! Not my feet!"
"What's wrong with your feet, Marie? Cootchie cootchie coo!"
Marie's laughter increased in force. "HA HA HA HA HA! I AM TICKLISH! NO DAVID! HAA HAA HAA HAAAH! AAAAH! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!" Her feet twitched furiously. Her body gyrated on the bed. Her black hair went from being immaculately styled to damp and unkempt. She was losing control.
Mike encouraged her. "Stay with it Marie. Stay with it! Try and block it!" Mike kept wiggling his fingers across her soles. They started a pale white. Now they were turning red.
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha! AAAHHH! HA HA HA HA! AAAHH!! STOP! AH GOD! AH GOD! HA HAHAHA!"
"Oh you've got ticklish feet. Oh ticklish feet. How much more can you take, Marie?" Mike found that while the area just above her heels tickled her the most, her entire sole was extremely ticklish. The area beneath the toes, her heels, the arches, it all tickled her quite badly.
"AAAHHHHAAA! HAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAA! NOAAHH!! HAHAHAHAHAAAAA!
"Come on Marie, fight it back!"
Marie's face was red. Her mouth turned into an almost panicked frown and was wide open. She started banging her head against the bed. She couldn't stop laughing. Her feet were just too ticklish.
"EEEEE!!!! HAAHHAAHAAHAAHAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAA!!!"
She was twisting and turning, writhing and screaming. She went from looking like the girl next door to a girl possessed. Veins in her forehead looked like they were going to burst. Mike kept tickling the poor woman's feet. Marie started making purely nonsensical sounds in a panicked, high-pitched scream.
"EEAAAHH!! UUUHHH! HA HAHAAAHAHHAAHAHAAAHA!!! OOHHAAAAHHHH!!!!"
Mike saw the sheets of the bed between her legs soak with urine. Marie had emptied her bladder on the bed.
When Mike left the room, Marie was freed from her bonds. Pure exhaustion kept her from struggling. That and the knowledge that she was free of her torture. No police report was ever filed. After all, she had just found $500 on the bed beside her.
Mike sat in his apartment, practicing his knot-making skills while he viewed a videotape of a woman's soccer practice. The camera zoomed on Jamie, and not surprisingly certain areas of her body. Areas that were about to get a real surprise.
First he had to practice a few more concepts. A quick trip to the hardware store equipped him with his first "tickle kit". He rented a room at the Holiday Inn for a day and night. When the time was right for Jamie, everything had to be perfect. Nothing could be left to chance; better to practice now on a less "valuable" target.
Perfect Ten Escorts provided him with his opportunity. That evening, around 9:30, two people arrived at Mike's hotel door. A very large man and a much smaller, attractive woman. Of course, Mike gave her permission to come in. She was the one he'd called for, after all.
Marie was in her mid 30's and resembled an average American, albeit shorter at only 5'2". She weighed around 125 lbs and had slightly wide hips but a small torso. With her pale white skin and dark, short wavy hair she could be considered attractive. Her face was considered quite pretty by some, resembling Gillian Anderson. Perhaps this is what made her a successful escort. She dressed in a tailored, fashionable pinstriped business suit, wearing a white oxford shirt that highly complemented her 34c-28-36 figure.
Marie spoke. She had slightly scratchy voice and a mild southern accent.
They spoke for a while, long enough for her to really trust Mike (though she only knew him as David). Marie took out her tape recorder from her purse. She turned it off and using her cell phone notified her security escort that everything was ok.
It seemed that "David" had paid for 3 hours time, and didn't want to do much more than talk. Mike eventually steered the conversation to tickling.
"Well, I'm really not that ticklish anymore. I was when I was a kid, but my parents tickled me so much that I learned to control it. Except under my arms and on my feet. Those are the only places I'm still a little ticklish".
Mike proceeded. "What happens if someone tickles you there?".
Marie wasn't stupid. She smiled and said triumphantly, as if she'd unlocked the theory of gravity, "You have a tickle fetish!"
Mike wasn't embarassed at all. "I do, I do!"
"Well, I'm sorry I'm not really ticklish", she said in her southern voice.
Mike was undeterred. He had a sixth sense about these things.
"Oh, that's ok. You said you were a little on your feet and underarms though. What would happen if somebody got you there?" Mike was being quite cool. He smiled and never intimated that he might actually tickle her.
"Under my arms, I just usually move away. I won't laugh. If it's my feet, though, I start giggling. But it's nothing like some people who are really bad".
"I bet you're a lot more ticklish than you say!", Mike teased.
"I don't think so" she said with a hint of defiance.
"I'll give you $100 extra dollars if you let me test you out. If you don't laugh, I'll give you $150".
"No problem! I love taking money!" she laughed.
Marie stood up and took off her jacket. Her eyes were a very pretty light green that went well with her light skin and dark hair. She stood spread eagle and assumed an almost defiant facial expression
Mike stood behind Marie and started to frisk her lightly, being very sure not to seem aggressive. Mike squeezed and stroked, but Marie's sides were not sensitive to stroking or gentle poking. Her ribs weren't ticklish at all. Nor was her belly. Her hips and knees were immune. He even tried light stroking of her neck. She wasn't ticklish at all, or at least was very good at controlling it.
"Told you so!", she said.
Mike reached underneath Marie's outstretched arms, however, and got a sudden gasp. "Oh-ho!" Marie bent forward and dropped her arms. The sudden tickle took her breath away, but she didn't laugh. Mike kept tickling underneath Marie's arms. Marie twisted, but never laughed.
"OK, OK, that tickles! You can stop now!".
Mike gave her $150. "Pretty good! How about your feet?"
"No problem. Another $150, and I'll let you try it".
Mike was surprised at how insensitive Marie was. He found that Marie's body was, while not fat, considerably soft, like someone who didn't exercise much but had a reasonable amount of muscle. He started to think she really was quite pretty and might be able to pass for Gillian Anderson if she had to.
Marie sat in a chair at the edge of the bed and removed her shoes. She wore no socks or stockings. Marie stretched her right leg over to the Mike so her feet could be tested. Marie set a firm mental determination not to laugh or show the slightest signs of sensitivity.
Mike started to stroke Marie's feet. Despite herself, Marie instantly tossed her head back and started laughing a slightly deep, hoarse southern-accented laugh. She put one hand on her forehead and the other over her stomach.
"Ha ha ha ha! Oh stop! Ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha! OK! I'm ticklish there! Ha ha ha ha! Oh David! Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
Marie didn't have the leg strength to pull her foot away. Mike kept tickling her feet to see if any desensitization occurred or if Marie could control the laughter. Instead, it only seemed to get harder and louder. She wrapped her arms around her waist almost as if she could hold in the laughter.
"AAH! Donhahahahahaha! OH! Ha Ha HA HA HAHA NO! HAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Mike realized Marie's reactions became stronger rather than weaker. Marie tried her best to control the laughter, but she found it only got worse, and turned into a strong steady stream. As she laughed, Marie fell back on the bed and beat it with her fists. Mike was ready with his "tickle kit". He'd already fastened a noose of hard rubber underneath the chair. Now he slipped it over her ankle. Her foot was held in place against the arm of the chair.
Mike fumbled with it for a few seconds. This was practice, after all. Marie caught her breath and looked up. "Ass…what are you…". She pulled her leg, but found it was secured to the chair. The chair moved, of course, the second Mike leapt from it onto the bed. Before Marie knew it, her right wrist was zip-tied to a length of chain fastened around the foot of the bed.
Marie started to punch at Mike with her left arm and yell. Mike endured the punches and ripped a length of duct tape across her mouth. Marie's eyes were wide open now. She was terrified. Mike secured her other arm to the bed using the same technique. Then despite her kicks, Marie's left foot was secured to the other arm of the bed. Mike had taken quite a beating during this process, something he'd have to avoid when facing the athletic Jamie.
He took a deep breath and pondered what he'd done. He looked at Marie, who was now truly a captive. His heartbeat pounded his chest and he shook like a leaf in a hurricane. Marie was obviously frightened; an unintended effect of being captured. He would have to eliminate that too.
He took the tape off her mouth.
"Be quiet, be quiet…I'm not going to hurt you".
Marie's voice trembled. "OK David. Just relax. Stay cool. You better let me go. You can go to jail for this. You let me go now"
Mike moved down to her feet and started to run his fingers up and down her soles.
Marie started to shout and laugh. "Stop that! Ha ha ha. What's wrong with you? Ha ha ha ha". Her feet twitched as best they could. Mike kept running his fingers over her soles. "Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Stop it!"
"Remember when you said I have a tickle fetish?" he asked her. Marie nodded through her laughter.
"Well, I'm going to tickle you for a while". Marie didn't think this was possible. She didn't believe this was really going to happen. She prided herself in being able to control her sensitivity, but deep down she knew how ticklish her feet were. Marie had incredible willpower. She could suppress her reactions for a little while, usually long enough for people who tried to tickle her feet to lose interest. She didn't think she could keep it up for very long.
"Ha ha ha ha! NO! PLEASE! Ha ha ha ha! OH! Stop! I can't take it! Stop!"
"What happened to not being very ticklish, Marie?"
"OH! Ha ha ha ha! I can't! Ha ha ha ha! OHHH! Ha ha ha ha ha ha! AAH! Not my feet!"
"What's wrong with your feet, Marie? Cootchie cootchie coo!"
Marie's laughter increased in force. "HA HA HA HA HA! I AM TICKLISH! NO DAVID! HAA HAA HAA HAAAH! AAAAH! HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!" Her feet twitched furiously. Her body gyrated on the bed. Her black hair went from being immaculately styled to damp and unkempt. She was losing control.
Mike encouraged her. "Stay with it Marie. Stay with it! Try and block it!" Mike kept wiggling his fingers across her soles. They started a pale white. Now they were turning red.
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha! AAAHHH! HA HA HA HA! AAAHH!! STOP! AH GOD! AH GOD! HA HAHAHA!"
"Oh you've got ticklish feet. Oh ticklish feet. How much more can you take, Marie?" Mike found that while the area just above her heels tickled her the most, her entire sole was extremely ticklish. The area beneath the toes, her heels, the arches, it all tickled her quite badly.
"AAAHHHHAAA! HAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAA! NOAAHH!! HAHAHAHAHAAAAA!
"Come on Marie, fight it back!"
Marie's face was red. Her mouth turned into an almost panicked frown and was wide open. She started banging her head against the bed. She couldn't stop laughing. Her feet were just too ticklish.
"EEEEE!!!! HAAHHAAHAAHAAHAAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAAHAA!!!"
She was twisting and turning, writhing and screaming. She went from looking like the girl next door to a girl possessed. Veins in her forehead looked like they were going to burst. Mike kept tickling the poor woman's feet. Marie started making purely nonsensical sounds in a panicked, high-pitched scream.
"EEAAAHH!! UUUHHH! HA HAHAAAHAHHAAHAHAAAHA!!! OOHHAAAAHHHH!!!!"
Mike saw the sheets of the bed between her legs soak with urine. Marie had emptied her bladder on the bed.
When Mike left the room, Marie was freed from her bonds. Pure exhaustion kept her from struggling. That and the knowledge that she was free of her torture. No police report was ever filed. After all, she had just found $500 on the bed beside her.
Mike sat in his apartment, practicing his knot-making skills while he viewed a videotape of a woman's soccer practice. The camera zoomed on Jamie, and not surprisingly certain areas of her body. Areas that were about to get a real surprise.
