I was so excited! I was going to have my very first tickling
session this afternoon, and I was restless the whole day. My first
floor apartment was spotlessly clean, and I had the bedroom all
set up. I had a couple beers to settle my nerves as I waited
anxiously by the phone, waiting for it to ring. Finally it rang,
and i nearly jumped out of my seat. I answered it.
"Hello?" I said nervously.
"Hey, man," responded the youthful, jovial voice of Mark, my soon
-to-be ticklee. "I'm about 5 minutes away; what's your apartment
number again?"
"16," I eagerly responded. We hanged up, and about 10 minutes
later, the door bell rang. My heart was nearly beating out of my
chest as I opened the door.
There Mark stood with his cute, boyish grin and bright green eyes.
Mark was 21, 5'9" tall with a moderately athletic build, and had
short blond hair that he styled into a "faux-hawk" which is a
popular hair style for young men these days. He was wearing a pink
t-shirt, beige khaki shorts, and size 11 Vans shoes. A colorful
beaded bracelet adorned his left ankle.
"Hey, Mark!" I said with no effort to conceal my enthusiam.
"Welcome to my humble abode!" I gestured with my arm for him to
come in.
"You've got a nice place," Mark said.
We sat down on my living room sofa, chatted, and had a couple
drinks before the "main event."
"Have you ever done anything like this before?" I asked him.
"No, I haven't," Mark replied, blushing slightly.
"Are you nervous?"
"I guess just a little."
I laughed good-naturedly and said: "That's totally natural, Mark!
Everyone gets a little nervous during their first time. By the
way, where are your ticklish spots?"
He gave me that boyish grin again, and told me that he was
ticklish pretty much everywhere, but that his underarms, sides,
and feet were his "worst" spots.
"Do you wanna see the bedroom? I've got everything set up."
Mark agreed, grinning, and he followed me down the hall to my
bedroom.
When Mark saw my queen-sized bed, he laughed and said: "What the
heck kind of bed sheet is that?"
I explained to him that my bed was adorned with a Sportsheet,
which is basically a comfortable black bed sheet which secures
itself to your bed via straps secured underneath the mattress. The
Sportsheet attracts velcro, and it comes with four blue "anchor
pads" with industrial strenght velcro on their bottoms. So you
simply attach the anchor pads to the Sportsheet, and then you strap
your ticklee's wrists and ankles to the pads.
After my brief explanation, Mark scoffed at the concept of velcro
being an effective bondage device.
"Ha! I could probably break outta that in two minutes!"
I laughed and said: "Well, we're gonna find out! Why don't you go
ahead and take off your shirt and shoes."
He excitedly complied, and lied down on the sheet. I placed two
anchor pads above his head, and strapped his wrists to them. I
then placed the other two anchor pads close together at the foot
of the bed and strapped his ankles into them; that way, with his
feet bound close together, I would have more or less dual access
to his feet.
With my handiwork finished, and poor Mark all strapped down, I
stood back and taunted: "Alright, Mr. Tough Guy, let's see you
break outta that!"
Mark spent the next ten minutes or so desparatley trying to escape
the Sportsheet; he flexed his arm and leg muscles to the point
where veins were bulging and he was trembling; but the anchor pads
would not budge. At one point he was pulling at his restraints so
hard that the corners of the queen-sized matress actually
lifted up slightly. Finally, Mark gave up, laying his head back on
the pillow and gasping for breath. Once he caught his breath, he
started laughing, and I started laughing too.
"Looks like you got me, dude," Mark said.
I laughed and said: "Ready for some fun?"
"Doesn't look like I have a choice," Mark said, laughing.
"Well, for my first trick...." I reached into a dresser drawer,
and pulled out a long red fluffy ostrich feather.
Mark's eyes got wide, and he muttered: "oh, shit!"
"Aww, come on, you'll LOVE it," I teased, and I began to gently
stroke the feather along his chest and belly.
Mark made a valiant effort to maintain his dignity as the soft
feather drove his nerve endings wild; he gritted his teeth, fought
his restraints, shook his head from side to side and grunted; but
eventually, a torrent of giggles spewed from his lips as the
feather overwhelmed him.
"THAT'S more like it!" I taunted. "Laugh for me!"
I began to stroke the feather along his neck, along his chest and nipples, and inside his
lightly downy armpits. He desperately tried to pull down his arms
to protect his underarms, but his restraints held firm.
Poor Mark shook his head back and forth in defiance:
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! OH GOD OH GOD PLEEAAASSEEE STOOOOPPPP! NO
MORE NO NO MORE HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!"
I began to stroke the feather along his inner thighs, which made
him laugh and moan at the same time. As the feather explored his
inner thighs, I began to notice a growing bulge within his khaki
shorts. I asked him teasingly if he was wearing a cup, and he
blushed furiously and said something rather impolite to me.
I withdrew the feather and set it aside. Mark breathed a sigh of
relief.
"Man, that was INTENSE," Mark exclaimed. "I'm about ready to be
untied now."
"Awww, come on," I said. "I can't untie you yet, I haven't even
given your dogs any attention!"
"My dogs?"
"Yeah, your feet!"
"Oh no, man, my feet are WAY too ticklish!"
"Well, we're gonna find out," I said as I moved to the foot of the
bed.
I slowly peeled off his sweaty Puma socks to reveal his soft,
pink-soled feet. As I rubbed his helpless feet, I was amazed at
how soft and smooth his soles and toes were. I taunted him: "Aww,
you get pedicures, dontcha girly-boy!"
"That's none of your business!" Mark snarled.
I reached into a dresser drawer and pulled out a small bottle of
baby oil. I knelt by the foot of the bed and squirted the oil on
his toes which caused the oil to cascade down his soles.
"HEY, what the HELL is that?" Mark shouted.
"Calm down, it's just baby oil!"
I proceeded to lavishly rub the oil onto his feet and between his
toes until they were well coated. Then, I began to very gently
stroke my index finger up the sole of his right bare foot, from
heel to toes. Mark made a slight "yelp" noise and clenched his
toes hard. Now that his dogs were nice and slick, I began to
increase the pressure, intensity, and speed with with I stroked my
finger tips along the soles of his feet, and poor Mark was
laughing his head off.
"Ahahahahahaaaaaaaa!!!! Oh GOD THAT TICKLES!!!!
HEHEHEHEEEEE!!!!
After stroking his silky soles and exploring between his toes for about ten minutes, I
gave him a short rest to catch his breath and compose himself.
"OK," he panted, "You really got me good, dude! You had me laughing and begging like a little bitch. Now untie me!"
"Not quite yet," I said. "I have just one more toy to introduce you to!"
Mark groaned as I went into my bathroom and brought out a fully charged Sonicare toothrush. I had kept it in the charger all night for this auspicious occasion.
Mark lifted his head off the pillow and said: "What the hell is that? Is that a toothbrush?"
"You bet it is!" I turned it on, and it made a loud "whirring" noise as the soft little bristles spun and vibrated with intense speed.
Mark's eyes widened, and he muttered: "Oh God!"
I knelt by his bound feet. I held the toes of his left foot to keep the foot still, and I applied the sonicare to the ball of his foot.
When the rapidly spinning soft bristles of the Sonicare dug into the tender, oiled up sole of poor Mark's foot, he went absolutely ape-shit! He literally shrieked and tried to move his poor foot away from my hand and the sonicare, but with no success.
"AAAARRRRGGGHHHHHH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!!!! STOP OH GOD STOP IT-HEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAWAHAWHAWHAW.... I... CAN'T..... TAKE IIIIITTTT!!!!!
Poor Mark was tugging against the anchor pads that his feet were strapped to with so much force that the foot of the mattress actually lifted up a few inches until the strength in mark's legs wore out, and the mattress went back down to its original position.
I continued (sadistically) to explore Mark's tender feet with the Sonicare, all the while listening to the delightful shriek of Mark's laughter.
I turned off the sonicare, and unstrapped Mark, who was a sweaty, panting mess.
I whispered in his ear: "Not bad for your first session, eh?"
He laughed, and muttered something along the lines of "fuck you."
"Well, it's almost 5 o'clock, I guess you'll be wanting to take a shower before you get back home. You can use mine."
Mark got up, and kissed me.
"That was the most fun I've had in a long time. Hopefully we can do it again soon; and maybe something more."
I laughed and kissed him back.
"You can bet on it!"
THE END
session this afternoon, and I was restless the whole day. My first
floor apartment was spotlessly clean, and I had the bedroom all
set up. I had a couple beers to settle my nerves as I waited
anxiously by the phone, waiting for it to ring. Finally it rang,
and i nearly jumped out of my seat. I answered it.
"Hello?" I said nervously.
"Hey, man," responded the youthful, jovial voice of Mark, my soon
-to-be ticklee. "I'm about 5 minutes away; what's your apartment
number again?"
"16," I eagerly responded. We hanged up, and about 10 minutes
later, the door bell rang. My heart was nearly beating out of my
chest as I opened the door.
There Mark stood with his cute, boyish grin and bright green eyes.
Mark was 21, 5'9" tall with a moderately athletic build, and had
short blond hair that he styled into a "faux-hawk" which is a
popular hair style for young men these days. He was wearing a pink
t-shirt, beige khaki shorts, and size 11 Vans shoes. A colorful
beaded bracelet adorned his left ankle.
"Hey, Mark!" I said with no effort to conceal my enthusiam.
"Welcome to my humble abode!" I gestured with my arm for him to
come in.
"You've got a nice place," Mark said.
We sat down on my living room sofa, chatted, and had a couple
drinks before the "main event."
"Have you ever done anything like this before?" I asked him.
"No, I haven't," Mark replied, blushing slightly.
"Are you nervous?"
"I guess just a little."
I laughed good-naturedly and said: "That's totally natural, Mark!
Everyone gets a little nervous during their first time. By the
way, where are your ticklish spots?"
He gave me that boyish grin again, and told me that he was
ticklish pretty much everywhere, but that his underarms, sides,
and feet were his "worst" spots.
"Do you wanna see the bedroom? I've got everything set up."
Mark agreed, grinning, and he followed me down the hall to my
bedroom.
When Mark saw my queen-sized bed, he laughed and said: "What the
heck kind of bed sheet is that?"
I explained to him that my bed was adorned with a Sportsheet,
which is basically a comfortable black bed sheet which secures
itself to your bed via straps secured underneath the mattress. The
Sportsheet attracts velcro, and it comes with four blue "anchor
pads" with industrial strenght velcro on their bottoms. So you
simply attach the anchor pads to the Sportsheet, and then you strap
your ticklee's wrists and ankles to the pads.
After my brief explanation, Mark scoffed at the concept of velcro
being an effective bondage device.
"Ha! I could probably break outta that in two minutes!"
I laughed and said: "Well, we're gonna find out! Why don't you go
ahead and take off your shirt and shoes."
He excitedly complied, and lied down on the sheet. I placed two
anchor pads above his head, and strapped his wrists to them. I
then placed the other two anchor pads close together at the foot
of the bed and strapped his ankles into them; that way, with his
feet bound close together, I would have more or less dual access
to his feet.
With my handiwork finished, and poor Mark all strapped down, I
stood back and taunted: "Alright, Mr. Tough Guy, let's see you
break outta that!"
Mark spent the next ten minutes or so desparatley trying to escape
the Sportsheet; he flexed his arm and leg muscles to the point
where veins were bulging and he was trembling; but the anchor pads
would not budge. At one point he was pulling at his restraints so
hard that the corners of the queen-sized matress actually
lifted up slightly. Finally, Mark gave up, laying his head back on
the pillow and gasping for breath. Once he caught his breath, he
started laughing, and I started laughing too.
"Looks like you got me, dude," Mark said.
I laughed and said: "Ready for some fun?"
"Doesn't look like I have a choice," Mark said, laughing.
"Well, for my first trick...." I reached into a dresser drawer,
and pulled out a long red fluffy ostrich feather.
Mark's eyes got wide, and he muttered: "oh, shit!"
"Aww, come on, you'll LOVE it," I teased, and I began to gently
stroke the feather along his chest and belly.
Mark made a valiant effort to maintain his dignity as the soft
feather drove his nerve endings wild; he gritted his teeth, fought
his restraints, shook his head from side to side and grunted; but
eventually, a torrent of giggles spewed from his lips as the
feather overwhelmed him.
"THAT'S more like it!" I taunted. "Laugh for me!"
I began to stroke the feather along his neck, along his chest and nipples, and inside his
lightly downy armpits. He desperately tried to pull down his arms
to protect his underarms, but his restraints held firm.
Poor Mark shook his head back and forth in defiance:
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA! OH GOD OH GOD PLEEAAASSEEE STOOOOPPPP! NO
MORE NO NO MORE HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA!"
I began to stroke the feather along his inner thighs, which made
him laugh and moan at the same time. As the feather explored his
inner thighs, I began to notice a growing bulge within his khaki
shorts. I asked him teasingly if he was wearing a cup, and he
blushed furiously and said something rather impolite to me.
I withdrew the feather and set it aside. Mark breathed a sigh of
relief.
"Man, that was INTENSE," Mark exclaimed. "I'm about ready to be
untied now."
"Awww, come on," I said. "I can't untie you yet, I haven't even
given your dogs any attention!"
"My dogs?"
"Yeah, your feet!"
"Oh no, man, my feet are WAY too ticklish!"
"Well, we're gonna find out," I said as I moved to the foot of the
bed.
I slowly peeled off his sweaty Puma socks to reveal his soft,
pink-soled feet. As I rubbed his helpless feet, I was amazed at
how soft and smooth his soles and toes were. I taunted him: "Aww,
you get pedicures, dontcha girly-boy!"
"That's none of your business!" Mark snarled.
I reached into a dresser drawer and pulled out a small bottle of
baby oil. I knelt by the foot of the bed and squirted the oil on
his toes which caused the oil to cascade down his soles.
"HEY, what the HELL is that?" Mark shouted.
"Calm down, it's just baby oil!"
I proceeded to lavishly rub the oil onto his feet and between his
toes until they were well coated. Then, I began to very gently
stroke my index finger up the sole of his right bare foot, from
heel to toes. Mark made a slight "yelp" noise and clenched his
toes hard. Now that his dogs were nice and slick, I began to
increase the pressure, intensity, and speed with with I stroked my
finger tips along the soles of his feet, and poor Mark was
laughing his head off.
"Ahahahahahaaaaaaaa!!!! Oh GOD THAT TICKLES!!!!
HEHEHEHEEEEE!!!!
After stroking his silky soles and exploring between his toes for about ten minutes, I
gave him a short rest to catch his breath and compose himself.
"OK," he panted, "You really got me good, dude! You had me laughing and begging like a little bitch. Now untie me!"
"Not quite yet," I said. "I have just one more toy to introduce you to!"
Mark groaned as I went into my bathroom and brought out a fully charged Sonicare toothrush. I had kept it in the charger all night for this auspicious occasion.
Mark lifted his head off the pillow and said: "What the hell is that? Is that a toothbrush?"
"You bet it is!" I turned it on, and it made a loud "whirring" noise as the soft little bristles spun and vibrated with intense speed.
Mark's eyes widened, and he muttered: "Oh God!"
I knelt by his bound feet. I held the toes of his left foot to keep the foot still, and I applied the sonicare to the ball of his foot.
When the rapidly spinning soft bristles of the Sonicare dug into the tender, oiled up sole of poor Mark's foot, he went absolutely ape-shit! He literally shrieked and tried to move his poor foot away from my hand and the sonicare, but with no success.
"AAAARRRRGGGHHHHHH-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!!!!! STOP OH GOD STOP IT-HEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAWAHAWHAWHAW.... I... CAN'T..... TAKE IIIIITTTT!!!!!
Poor Mark was tugging against the anchor pads that his feet were strapped to with so much force that the foot of the mattress actually lifted up a few inches until the strength in mark's legs wore out, and the mattress went back down to its original position.
I continued (sadistically) to explore Mark's tender feet with the Sonicare, all the while listening to the delightful shriek of Mark's laughter.
I turned off the sonicare, and unstrapped Mark, who was a sweaty, panting mess.
I whispered in his ear: "Not bad for your first session, eh?"
He laughed, and muttered something along the lines of "fuck you."
"Well, it's almost 5 o'clock, I guess you'll be wanting to take a shower before you get back home. You can use mine."
Mark got up, and kissed me.
"That was the most fun I've had in a long time. Hopefully we can do it again soon; and maybe something more."
I laughed and kissed him back.
"You can bet on it!"
THE END
