I think you're maybe referring to a story I posted a few years back. The characters involved were real but unfortunately the story itself was just a fantasy of mine. Copy posted below - hope you enjoy!
When I was in High School, I had a chemistry teacher whom I regularly fantasised about. Mrs M would have been in her early forties at the time, but was still really good-looking with shoulder length blonde hair and long, sexy legs. My regular seat in class was right in front of her desk where my gaze would almost always be either on those legs or, if she was wearing sandals, her feet.
I should point out at this stage that Mrs M was a teacher of the ‘old school’ in that she didn’t tolerate any nonsense. This made her unpopular with some of the less well behaved pupils within the school – most of whom had received punishments from her at some stage or another. In particular, a boy called Allan Mulholland was always in trouble with her. As he was a particularly nasty person, it was little wonder. Hardly a week seemed to go by without him getting the belt, detention or lines from her to write.
In my sixth year, we went on a school trip to Italy, and one of the three teachers who accompanied us was Mrs M (which, of course, was a large part of my reason for going!) Also going along on the trip was Allan Mulholland.
Right from the start of the trip, Mulholland was even more of a misbehaving pain than usual, but Mrs M didn’t let him away with anything.
One of the highlights of the trip was going to be a visit to the top of Mount Vesuvius. However, on the morning in question, Mulholland had tipped some milk over someone’s head at breakfast, so Mrs M instantly banned him from the Vesuvius trip. Allan Mulholland was NOT happy, to say the least, at not getting to go. His hatred for Mrs M was suddenly at an all time high!
Two days after the Vesuvius visit, we moved up the coast for three wonderful days in Sorrento. On the second of these, Mrs M was lying on a sunbed out on the hotel veranda with some of girls. She was wearing a navy t-shirt, a pair of white shorts and a pair of flip-flops. By now she also developed a lovely suntan. That afternoon, half of our party had gone off to the town with the other two teachers. The only one in charge of us was Mrs M.
I was over on the other side of the veranda half asleep when suddenly I heard raised voices and some laughing and giggling. Looking up, I saw the noise was coming from the girls – four of whom were clustered around Mrs M’s feet. I then saw that Mrs M was squirming and giggling, and, with a sudden thrill, realised they were tickling her feet! As I jumped up – desperate to witness every millisecond – I heard her playfully giggling and telling the girls to stop. Unfortunately, only a second or so later, they did. It was a wonderful moment - as the huge bulge in my swimming shorts readily testified! However, much, much better was about to come!
Unbeknown to me, Allan Mulholland and his pals had also witnessed the event from inside the hotel bar. Instantly realising their golden opportunity, four of them quickly approached Mrs M from behind. Two of them took hold of her arms while a third grabbed her ankles - I actually heard her gasp as it happened. Mulholland went straight to kneel at her bare feet.
A furious and struggling Mrs M was now pinned to the sunbed and at Mulholland’s mercy.
Every pupil from the bar and veranda area (about 12 of us) suddenly converged in a circle around the scene. To her credit, Mrs M was defiant – still struggling and demanding that they let her go. However, I could see a look of panic in her eyes. I began to pray that Mulholland was going to tickle her.
I have to hand it to Mulholland in that he was absolutely brilliant. He didn’t start on Mrs M right away, but let her stew for a few minutes. As she continued to threaten and struggle, he reminded her about all the punishments she’d given him, and especially about not letting him go on the Vesuvius trip. He then asked her the question which answered all my prayers – “Are you ticklish, Miss?” Mrs M suddenly froze and stared at him with terrified eyes.
Then Mulholland started on her. He began by dancing his fingertips lightly up and down her bare soles. I watched mesmerised as Mrs M desperately tried to control herself. After all, she was being publicly tickled by her greatest enemy! She twisted and squirmed helplessly on the sunbed for about twenty seconds before finally bursting into laughter. God, it was the most fantastic sound I have ever heard, either before or since!
Mulholland tickled her bare feet for about ten minutes. During almost all that time, Mrs M shrieked and screamed with helpless laughter. Before he stopped, Mulholland made her scream out, in front of everyone that, YES! She was REALLY, REALLY sorry for having stopped him from going on the trip. He then made her humiliatingly plead and beg for him to stop tickling her.
So, for about ten minutes of absolute heaven, I got to watch a strict schoolteacher not only being tickled, but being tickled and humiliated as a punishment by a pupil she hated!
Needless to say that the remainder of my chemistry lessons were made even more magical by knowing that my fantasy teacher had such extremely ticklish feet!
