Machinehead
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This ain't my story but I loved it.
Kerri's Ticklish De-Feet
by: Brandon
A couple of years ago, I met a very pretty little blond with dynamite curves named Kerri. Her enormous blue eyes gave her such a look of innocence that you might at first overlook her ample cleavage. We quickly became friends and later became sexual interests. I was 22, in my senior year while she was a freshman and just turned 19. Although she constantly played the innocent around most people, she was a rebellious sort and a wild flirt. As fate would have it, she already had a steady boyfriend, so actual sex was out of the question. We both discovered that we had a common interest in tickling, but strangely enough, she had never really made the connection between tickling and sex......at least not yet. Her boyfriend, it seems, hated to be tickled, and didn't get off much on tickling pretty little Kerri either. After revealing my tickling interests to her, Kerri, being the ultimate mistress of cocktease and never ceased her endless barrage of 'tickle talk' and carefully orchestrated pokes in my direction. My cock was constantly twitching with excitement every time we got together. Sometimes she would sit in my dorm room and calmly describe to me where she was ticklish and exactly how ticklish. This never failed to drive me crazy. But pretty soon my influence on her turned her own tickling interests into a full-fledged fetish like my own. She was soon confiding in me with her newest tickling fantasies. Her favourite one was to be tickled on the sides and ribs while having her nipples sucked. I practically drooled when I heard this, especially coming from a woman that I knew I couldn't have.
One night, Kerri had to stay over in my room because we had talked too late. I suggested that we try some tickling games for the fun of it. She agreed rather quickly with a mischievous gleam in her eye. I guess we both knew that aside from our engaging in tickling games for the sake of pure childish fun, we were also engaging in a very potent form of foreplay, whether it lead to sex or not. Now all the time I had known Kerri, she knew about my weakness for pretty female feet, but never allowed me to get more than a brief glimpse of them bare. This was, of course, teasing in the highest form. Occasionally, I would question her as to the ticklishness of her feet. She would tell me quite calmly that her feet were only a little ticklish, as if we were talking about the most sexless part of her anatomy. Well, as I retrieved a leather tie and a soft belt from my closet, I became determined to find out whether this little bombshell's feet were a touch more sensitive than she was letting on. After a coin toss, it was decided that I was to be the first ticklee, a role that I love almost as much as being the tickler. I had never before been tied-up well enough to experience a real, no-holds-barred tickle torture, so when Kerri's bondage techniques proved to be no less than expert, I naturally became nervous, and excited. As I rolled around helplessly, my hands tied behind my back and my ankles restrained, I realized that my desperate pleas for early dismissal from the ordeal only encouraged her. I had never seen herlook so devilish as when she worked her little hands under my sweater and onto my helpless ribs. I fell from the bed to the floor, crawling around the room in a desperate attempt to escape her maddening fingers. Her eyes had taken on a very wild look, and she grinned madly as she followed my squirming body around the room with pokes and tickles every inch of the way. Every time I begged her to stop, she'd shake her head slowly, grin even more devilishly, and tickle me even harder. She repeated over and over, "You love it, you love it." She was right, of course. Well, I turned the tables soon enough.
As I tied her ankles, I warned her that I was going to tickle her little feet, and maybe even yank her white socks off to bare them for their torment. She told me to leave her socks right where they were, and besides, she told me, she planned to squirm so much that getting a firm grip on her legs would be impossible. My hands were shaking badly as I tied her wrists together behind her back.
"What's the matter?" She asked coyly. "Getting a little horny?"
Girl, are you going to get it. I had waited months for that moment, fantasizing about that very night. I started on her underarms, working my index fingers into them as she tried to press her arms to her sides. She rolled around and contorted on the bed as my busy fingers tormented her underarms. While I worked on her upper anatomy, I was both surprised and aroused at the sounds she was emitting. She moaned and gasped quite heavily at first instead of laughing, and then began crying 'oh no! oh no!' repeatedly. Words can't explain the excitement I was experiencing. My heart was pounding and my tickling fingers were quivering. Her taut little body thrashed all over my bed. Her giggles were interspersed with interjections of 'That's enough!' and 'Okay! Okay!' Like two pencil points, I placed my index fingers on either side of a certain spot on her waist that I knew to be especially ticklish. As I wiggled my fingers into these spots, she struggled and writhed around violently in a way unlike anything I could have dreamt up in any fantasy! Her head and shoulders were shaking up and down on the bed, her hair flailed around as she laughed heartily and sometimes breathed heavily as if in a dangerous state of ecstasy, which I had every reason to believe she was. At one point, I managed to get my legs around her closed thighs in a scissor-hold. This left my hands free. With both wrists tied securely behind her back, I was able to leisurely roll the hem of her sweater up just enough to reveal her soft flat tummy and tiny waist. Kerri seemed so shocked at the sudden vulnerability of having this part of her anatomy unprotected that she could barely gurgle out a plea of mercy. She was too late. Using one solitary index finger, I began to draw tormenting circles and figure-eights on her helpless abdomen. Her back arched wickedly. Her head actually hit the wall behind her as she whipped it around in an effort to stave off the sensations. Soon after that, my index finger slowly tickled its way into her pretty navel. This time she actually shouted, but still, she wouldn't laugh! I dipped my finger into her navel again and this time the force of her contortions broke my leghold and she fell harmlessly off the bed. Her little stockinged feet immediately caught my attention. Realizing where my glance was directed, she made an effort to crawl away. I grabbed her ankles with one hand and proceeded to graze her stockinged soles with the fingers of the other. Defiantly, she made no noise as she kicked her way free from my grasp. Before she broke away completely, I managed to grab one ankle, hold her legs up in the air while she lay flat on her back, and lightly scratched her curling soles with my fingers. She then emitted the first full-fledged scream since her torture began. I went berserk.
Grabbing her ankles and standing up, I moved her into the middle of the floor where there was a comfortable amount of room. I anticipated that my victim was going to need it. I managed to wrestle her onto her stomach, and then I laid lengthwise along her overturned legs so that I was facing her feet. When I made a slight adjustment to make myself more comfortable, she unintentionally kicked me in the face and broke free. As I struggled to trap her in an uncompromising position, she giggled and chided me, telling me that she was too quick for me to get her into a helpless position. I then wrestled her back onto her stomach with her hands tied behind her back, and laid down myself on my back so I could grab her ankles in a scissor-hold between my thighs. The hold I managed to get her in was perfect. Her bound socked feet were situated 'soles-up' between my thighs and struggling on top of my already burning hard-on. I was impressed with how little she was able to struggle in this position. I decided to take my own sweet time getting the torture under way, probably to tease myself more than her. My fingers were quivering as I ran them deftly across her narrow stockinged soles. They flinched at my touch, and she gasped aloud. I watched with delight as the material of her socks bunched up around her toes and arches whenever she flexed her feet.
"Now, let's see," I said with hesitation, "shall I tickle these feet with socks on or off?"
Kerri answered for me. "Socks on! Socks on!" She begged. "No! Not on my bare feet!"
I pulled off her white socks as her feet struggled to remained clothed and protected. When I finally got them removed, I almost gasped at the tantalizing sight before me. There in front of me were the prettiest pair of helpless bare feet that I had ever seen. I'm not exaggerating when I say that to this day, I haven't found a sexier pair of female feet. Some women's feet look attractive from across the room at a party, until you're massaging them a couple of hours later and learn otherwise. Kerri's soles appeared baby-soft and smooth as if she had never gone barefoot in her life. Her toes, heels and the balls of her feet were a pale pink. Nice, little, unspoiled, nineteen-year-old feet. Her body laid completely still as I leisurely surveyed her peds, probably in anticipation. She suddenly wiggled the toes of both feet very slightly, and it was then that I decided to act. For the first time in my life, without a care or worry about the consequences, or worrying about whether my victim would get loose, I advanced my fingers towards a young girl's tied, ticklish bare feet.
But before I touched them, I had to deliver a teasing comment. "I thought you said your feet weren't very ticklish."
She tried her best to lie. "They're not! It just feels strange!"
"That's a new one," I replied.
That being said, I commenced the torture with two index fingers, practically teasing myself in the process. Up and down her bare feet, from heels to toes, I slid my fingertips all over those ticklish urfaces, exploring, experimenting. My God, her warm soles were as soft as silk! Of course, I should have believed Kerri when she said all along that her feet weren't ticklish. After all, she was only having a conniption. She rocked from side to side, giggling, hollering and screaming, claiming to be in agony, which made me all the more eager to tickle her darling little pink feet. Every few seconds she would tense up and gasp loudly, curling her toes to the point where I could see her red nail polish, as if in surprise or utter disbelief that something could actually tickle that much. This was obviously a girl who was used to a few tickles now and then through thick socks. Using all of my fingers, one hand for each foot, I used my light, but speedy dexterity in different fashions. And why not? I could go on at my leisure because of her total helplessness. All the while, I gained a great deal of satisfaction from viewing her extremely energetic contortions. I could feel the weight of her body, pulling frantically at my thighs. On her soft arches, her satiny heels, and of course, on the undersides of her little round wiggling toes, I tickled on. Sometimes, I would get my little finger between her toes and wiggle like crazy. I was in total ecstasy. I'll never forget that vision, still fresh in my mind as I now write: a pair of pink ticklish feet of a very pretty girl, curling and flexing in incredible torment only a foot from my face and millimetres away from my cock. I would have ended the torture sooner if she hadn't been teasing me for months, and for the fact that her tootsies were so incredibly soft! It was also rather unfortunate for her that the tops of her wiggling feet rested on top of my hard-on. In an attempt to get off, I had to provoke as much movement in her feet as possible. I came very close to achieving this goal when I began tracing lines from her heels to her toes with my nails, sometimes lightly scratching a couple of circles around her arches. Whenever she rolled around into a position where I could see her face, I noticed with extreme glee that her face was red with forced laughter and that tears of ticklish torment were streaming down her cheeks! She was actually laughing and crying. My orgasm came in a most fortunate way. Kerri realized that in order to get loose, she would have to have to get on her back and sit up to get some leverage. After a while, she had managed to do just that. I was so entranced by what was going on, that it took me a moment to realize that her feet were right-side-up and that she was sitting up. As it became obvious that she was going to wrench free at some point, and that I was close to orgasm, I decided to inflict one more torturous tickling technique on Kerri's soft soles as punishment for her months of incessant teasing. I very quickly loosened my grasp and pulled her body weight towards me in such a way that when I closed my thighs on her legs a second time, it was her knees that I had trapped. The unfortunate outcome for her, and an outcome that made me absolutely shudder with delight, was that I now had the prettiest pair of soles practically resting on my face, within striking distance of my dexterous tongue. I threw my arms around her ankles and honed in for the kill. The poor girl. As my warm wet tongue darted up and down her arches and in between her curling toes, she let out a long, gurgling, high-pitched shriek of laughter. The only two things I could see while I was both coming and tongue tickling, were her little size fours looming and struggling on top of my face, and her own face just above her toes in my line of vision, red with laughter and exhaustion, and wet with forced tears. Kerri and I eventually parted ways. She moved to another city and another university. But I believe our little tickle games made the girl a devout ticklee for the rest of her life.
Kerri's Ticklish De-Feet
by: Brandon
A couple of years ago, I met a very pretty little blond with dynamite curves named Kerri. Her enormous blue eyes gave her such a look of innocence that you might at first overlook her ample cleavage. We quickly became friends and later became sexual interests. I was 22, in my senior year while she was a freshman and just turned 19. Although she constantly played the innocent around most people, she was a rebellious sort and a wild flirt. As fate would have it, she already had a steady boyfriend, so actual sex was out of the question. We both discovered that we had a common interest in tickling, but strangely enough, she had never really made the connection between tickling and sex......at least not yet. Her boyfriend, it seems, hated to be tickled, and didn't get off much on tickling pretty little Kerri either. After revealing my tickling interests to her, Kerri, being the ultimate mistress of cocktease and never ceased her endless barrage of 'tickle talk' and carefully orchestrated pokes in my direction. My cock was constantly twitching with excitement every time we got together. Sometimes she would sit in my dorm room and calmly describe to me where she was ticklish and exactly how ticklish. This never failed to drive me crazy. But pretty soon my influence on her turned her own tickling interests into a full-fledged fetish like my own. She was soon confiding in me with her newest tickling fantasies. Her favourite one was to be tickled on the sides and ribs while having her nipples sucked. I practically drooled when I heard this, especially coming from a woman that I knew I couldn't have.
One night, Kerri had to stay over in my room because we had talked too late. I suggested that we try some tickling games for the fun of it. She agreed rather quickly with a mischievous gleam in her eye. I guess we both knew that aside from our engaging in tickling games for the sake of pure childish fun, we were also engaging in a very potent form of foreplay, whether it lead to sex or not. Now all the time I had known Kerri, she knew about my weakness for pretty female feet, but never allowed me to get more than a brief glimpse of them bare. This was, of course, teasing in the highest form. Occasionally, I would question her as to the ticklishness of her feet. She would tell me quite calmly that her feet were only a little ticklish, as if we were talking about the most sexless part of her anatomy. Well, as I retrieved a leather tie and a soft belt from my closet, I became determined to find out whether this little bombshell's feet were a touch more sensitive than she was letting on. After a coin toss, it was decided that I was to be the first ticklee, a role that I love almost as much as being the tickler. I had never before been tied-up well enough to experience a real, no-holds-barred tickle torture, so when Kerri's bondage techniques proved to be no less than expert, I naturally became nervous, and excited. As I rolled around helplessly, my hands tied behind my back and my ankles restrained, I realized that my desperate pleas for early dismissal from the ordeal only encouraged her. I had never seen herlook so devilish as when she worked her little hands under my sweater and onto my helpless ribs. I fell from the bed to the floor, crawling around the room in a desperate attempt to escape her maddening fingers. Her eyes had taken on a very wild look, and she grinned madly as she followed my squirming body around the room with pokes and tickles every inch of the way. Every time I begged her to stop, she'd shake her head slowly, grin even more devilishly, and tickle me even harder. She repeated over and over, "You love it, you love it." She was right, of course. Well, I turned the tables soon enough.
As I tied her ankles, I warned her that I was going to tickle her little feet, and maybe even yank her white socks off to bare them for their torment. She told me to leave her socks right where they were, and besides, she told me, she planned to squirm so much that getting a firm grip on her legs would be impossible. My hands were shaking badly as I tied her wrists together behind her back.
"What's the matter?" She asked coyly. "Getting a little horny?"
Girl, are you going to get it. I had waited months for that moment, fantasizing about that very night. I started on her underarms, working my index fingers into them as she tried to press her arms to her sides. She rolled around and contorted on the bed as my busy fingers tormented her underarms. While I worked on her upper anatomy, I was both surprised and aroused at the sounds she was emitting. She moaned and gasped quite heavily at first instead of laughing, and then began crying 'oh no! oh no!' repeatedly. Words can't explain the excitement I was experiencing. My heart was pounding and my tickling fingers were quivering. Her taut little body thrashed all over my bed. Her giggles were interspersed with interjections of 'That's enough!' and 'Okay! Okay!' Like two pencil points, I placed my index fingers on either side of a certain spot on her waist that I knew to be especially ticklish. As I wiggled my fingers into these spots, she struggled and writhed around violently in a way unlike anything I could have dreamt up in any fantasy! Her head and shoulders were shaking up and down on the bed, her hair flailed around as she laughed heartily and sometimes breathed heavily as if in a dangerous state of ecstasy, which I had every reason to believe she was. At one point, I managed to get my legs around her closed thighs in a scissor-hold. This left my hands free. With both wrists tied securely behind her back, I was able to leisurely roll the hem of her sweater up just enough to reveal her soft flat tummy and tiny waist. Kerri seemed so shocked at the sudden vulnerability of having this part of her anatomy unprotected that she could barely gurgle out a plea of mercy. She was too late. Using one solitary index finger, I began to draw tormenting circles and figure-eights on her helpless abdomen. Her back arched wickedly. Her head actually hit the wall behind her as she whipped it around in an effort to stave off the sensations. Soon after that, my index finger slowly tickled its way into her pretty navel. This time she actually shouted, but still, she wouldn't laugh! I dipped my finger into her navel again and this time the force of her contortions broke my leghold and she fell harmlessly off the bed. Her little stockinged feet immediately caught my attention. Realizing where my glance was directed, she made an effort to crawl away. I grabbed her ankles with one hand and proceeded to graze her stockinged soles with the fingers of the other. Defiantly, she made no noise as she kicked her way free from my grasp. Before she broke away completely, I managed to grab one ankle, hold her legs up in the air while she lay flat on her back, and lightly scratched her curling soles with my fingers. She then emitted the first full-fledged scream since her torture began. I went berserk.
Grabbing her ankles and standing up, I moved her into the middle of the floor where there was a comfortable amount of room. I anticipated that my victim was going to need it. I managed to wrestle her onto her stomach, and then I laid lengthwise along her overturned legs so that I was facing her feet. When I made a slight adjustment to make myself more comfortable, she unintentionally kicked me in the face and broke free. As I struggled to trap her in an uncompromising position, she giggled and chided me, telling me that she was too quick for me to get her into a helpless position. I then wrestled her back onto her stomach with her hands tied behind her back, and laid down myself on my back so I could grab her ankles in a scissor-hold between my thighs. The hold I managed to get her in was perfect. Her bound socked feet were situated 'soles-up' between my thighs and struggling on top of my already burning hard-on. I was impressed with how little she was able to struggle in this position. I decided to take my own sweet time getting the torture under way, probably to tease myself more than her. My fingers were quivering as I ran them deftly across her narrow stockinged soles. They flinched at my touch, and she gasped aloud. I watched with delight as the material of her socks bunched up around her toes and arches whenever she flexed her feet.
"Now, let's see," I said with hesitation, "shall I tickle these feet with socks on or off?"
Kerri answered for me. "Socks on! Socks on!" She begged. "No! Not on my bare feet!"
I pulled off her white socks as her feet struggled to remained clothed and protected. When I finally got them removed, I almost gasped at the tantalizing sight before me. There in front of me were the prettiest pair of helpless bare feet that I had ever seen. I'm not exaggerating when I say that to this day, I haven't found a sexier pair of female feet. Some women's feet look attractive from across the room at a party, until you're massaging them a couple of hours later and learn otherwise. Kerri's soles appeared baby-soft and smooth as if she had never gone barefoot in her life. Her toes, heels and the balls of her feet were a pale pink. Nice, little, unspoiled, nineteen-year-old feet. Her body laid completely still as I leisurely surveyed her peds, probably in anticipation. She suddenly wiggled the toes of both feet very slightly, and it was then that I decided to act. For the first time in my life, without a care or worry about the consequences, or worrying about whether my victim would get loose, I advanced my fingers towards a young girl's tied, ticklish bare feet.
But before I touched them, I had to deliver a teasing comment. "I thought you said your feet weren't very ticklish."
She tried her best to lie. "They're not! It just feels strange!"
"That's a new one," I replied.
That being said, I commenced the torture with two index fingers, practically teasing myself in the process. Up and down her bare feet, from heels to toes, I slid my fingertips all over those ticklish urfaces, exploring, experimenting. My God, her warm soles were as soft as silk! Of course, I should have believed Kerri when she said all along that her feet weren't ticklish. After all, she was only having a conniption. She rocked from side to side, giggling, hollering and screaming, claiming to be in agony, which made me all the more eager to tickle her darling little pink feet. Every few seconds she would tense up and gasp loudly, curling her toes to the point where I could see her red nail polish, as if in surprise or utter disbelief that something could actually tickle that much. This was obviously a girl who was used to a few tickles now and then through thick socks. Using all of my fingers, one hand for each foot, I used my light, but speedy dexterity in different fashions. And why not? I could go on at my leisure because of her total helplessness. All the while, I gained a great deal of satisfaction from viewing her extremely energetic contortions. I could feel the weight of her body, pulling frantically at my thighs. On her soft arches, her satiny heels, and of course, on the undersides of her little round wiggling toes, I tickled on. Sometimes, I would get my little finger between her toes and wiggle like crazy. I was in total ecstasy. I'll never forget that vision, still fresh in my mind as I now write: a pair of pink ticklish feet of a very pretty girl, curling and flexing in incredible torment only a foot from my face and millimetres away from my cock. I would have ended the torture sooner if she hadn't been teasing me for months, and for the fact that her tootsies were so incredibly soft! It was also rather unfortunate for her that the tops of her wiggling feet rested on top of my hard-on. In an attempt to get off, I had to provoke as much movement in her feet as possible. I came very close to achieving this goal when I began tracing lines from her heels to her toes with my nails, sometimes lightly scratching a couple of circles around her arches. Whenever she rolled around into a position where I could see her face, I noticed with extreme glee that her face was red with forced laughter and that tears of ticklish torment were streaming down her cheeks! She was actually laughing and crying. My orgasm came in a most fortunate way. Kerri realized that in order to get loose, she would have to have to get on her back and sit up to get some leverage. After a while, she had managed to do just that. I was so entranced by what was going on, that it took me a moment to realize that her feet were right-side-up and that she was sitting up. As it became obvious that she was going to wrench free at some point, and that I was close to orgasm, I decided to inflict one more torturous tickling technique on Kerri's soft soles as punishment for her months of incessant teasing. I very quickly loosened my grasp and pulled her body weight towards me in such a way that when I closed my thighs on her legs a second time, it was her knees that I had trapped. The unfortunate outcome for her, and an outcome that made me absolutely shudder with delight, was that I now had the prettiest pair of soles practically resting on my face, within striking distance of my dexterous tongue. I threw my arms around her ankles and honed in for the kill. The poor girl. As my warm wet tongue darted up and down her arches and in between her curling toes, she let out a long, gurgling, high-pitched shriek of laughter. The only two things I could see while I was both coming and tongue tickling, were her little size fours looming and struggling on top of my face, and her own face just above her toes in my line of vision, red with laughter and exhaustion, and wet with forced tears. Kerri and I eventually parted ways. She moved to another city and another university. But I believe our little tickle games made the girl a devout ticklee for the rest of her life.
