ticklishscribe
3rd Level Violet Feather
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I Know, You’re Screwed and Guess What Else
Inspired by tickledwife
Written by ticklishscribe
c.
I have you spread to the bed; stripped, stretched and ready to be stroked and I am already salivating over the time to come. My silence and the fact that you’re blindfolded, has you moving your head all over to at least get a moment of sound to tell you where I am and what I’m doing. You look so hot dressed in only your bra and panties is teasing me big time and no end and I want to take my revenge for that reasons at least. You’re a teddy bear and I’m going to tickle the stuffing out of you.
“Just become my name is Angel, doesn’t mean I am one. Would my Shea like an orgasm later on?” You squirm at my first words since tying you down and I watch with great delight as your head moves all around again. I am also delighted that just the sound of my voice and the words that I use, have total control of you and my eyes surf you all over.
“No use you struggling as you won’t get free. But I definitely want you struggling up a storm when I tickle and slowly orgasm you”
I can’t wait to get those feet as they are so exquisitely sensual and drive me wild every time I see them. I want to tweak your toes and play piggies as I know it will drive you insane, and cause you to buck and writhe up a storm. Already you are intensely squirming and already I’m loving it and planning my next moves.
Every inch of chubby you is beautiful; from your black hair, your hazel eyes, shapely upper body complete with a hint of ribs, down to your hipbones and right down to your size 7’s with high wide arches, plump toes and rounded features which are very soft and sensitive. Those feet that are now teasing me no end and giving me another reason.
I gaze at your feet, then take a ruler and size them up; nine inches long and three and three one half inches wide, make for a perfect 31 and a half square inches of ticklish sole per foot, for a grand total of sixty three square inches for both feet. This brings me no end of delight and I must resist the urge to ravage those soles right off the bat. As I measure them, you wriggle to writhe and get very jumpy, flinching, arching your back and feet failing all over.
“I’ve heard all about these!”
You writhe at my words and are desperately trying to hold yourself together and not let me see any weaknesses in you, but a single quick stroke to each sole, causes you to writhe even and giggle to cackle. I can tell that your senses are on the highest alert possible and I love it. To really test your senses I whisper the word feather very slowly and you squeal and writhe some more, giving away the first of many secrets that I will extract from you. I can tell that your nerve endings are standing at attention. In fact they were so rigid they are at the breaking point and you’re on the edge. You want to scream and beg me not to tickle you, but your voice doesn’t function properly. You want to run, but the bonds prevent that. What you desperately want is not available to you and the fact that I have total control over you only heightens that feeling to the point where you are almost terrified. Instantly your feet again pull back on the restraints and I watch as your toes curl tightly over as if to find even the remotest protection for themselves. I imagine them hiding like frightened little mice running from the barnyard cat, and giggle again.
“Even so much as one quick stroke across your toes Shea and I can uncover them then take them prisoner. But first…”
A sudden squeal erupts from you and I know that you are on edge and that I have uncovered another secret. To really tease you, I tell you that I’m not going to tickle right away, but that I had a good game of the piggies in mind first. With that in mind I used two fingers, grip your big toe and slowly bend it back. You fight hard to clench it, but my grip is firm and the toe is mine. Bending it back I take a moment to give you a few strokes on the joint with the quill end of the feather and this causes you to squeal and then whole-heartedly giggle. I reverse the feather and now let the tendrils slowly, sensually and evilly surf the very edge of your sole, then move inward to surf the ball of your foot and your arch, creating a ballet of tickles. I then lightly flick it across the base of your toes and then begin probe in between them with the slightest feather touch. Each tendril of the fiendish feather takes a nerve ending and backs it up against a wall then hammers home the tickling, untill your giggles turn to cackles. I smile evilly and tell you that the day is young and that there are endless tickles to come.
I want to set you off but not with tickles and so I grip your left foot with both hands and begin kissing your clenched toes. Instantly you squeal, jerk and begin writhing and I laugh at you again. Slowly I kiss your toes, big toe first and work my way over to your baby toe. Each toe is thoroughly kissed; top, soft pad bottom and in between, and you writhe and buck as best you can. The strength in your foot tells me that you are putting up some serious struggling, bucking and writhing and that suits me just fine as I want every reaction I can get from you. You girl are turning me on tickle wise and I want to tickle you every which way but loose. I can’t get over how soft your feet are, how pliable your toes are and how sensitive your feet are in general. Tickling them is going to be beyond exquisite and I’m going to make the most it too.
“These toes are just so romantic and I love how they kiss me back.”
You swear back at me and tell me that your toes are not kissing me and would never kiss me, but any words you could make after that are gone as laughter steals them. The bondage is holding you good and my grip on your foot is the icing on the cake, but I want more and so I begin wriggling your toes big toe first.
“Does this little piggy want to go to market and leave me? Well I won’t let it.”
You squeal and begin laughing again, still bucking and writhing and I wriggle the toe all over. My god you are amazing and awesome and I want to make this last as long as possible.
“This index piggy; ah, do I call it an index piggy or the second piggy? No matter, this next piggy stayed home because it had no choice; it was all tied up. And aren’t tied piggies delicious?”
Damn I have to grip your foot even tighter to keep it still and even then it still moves around like a wildcat. You’re totally amazing and am giving me the dream ticklee’s reaction of all time and so God knows what how you’ll react when I tickle your soles.
“This middle piggy here; the tallest one of the left foot family, didn’t get roast beef, but is getting a BLT instead; that’s bound, loved and tickled. And your bread is about to get toasted.”
You are now screaming and swearing at me; curse words I’ve never even heard before; but that’s fine by me. I kiss your middle toe again and rock your world and in doing so receive encores of swearing and cursing and screaming. To receive one more encore from this toe I scratch its joint a little and the vocabulary from you is at first unrepeatable in public then illegible as your laughter takes over once again.
“Now this fourth toe here, the fourth of your meaty toes is patiently waiting for its turn to get it. Yeah right; the cringing and clenching it’s doing right now is turning me on something ravenous and I plan on feasting on it personified.”
You yell no and curse me some more and really put the restraints through the ringer. I grip it, slowly bend it back, kiss its joint then nibble it and you scream louder than before. I have your senses jacked up against the wall and there is no place for them to go.
“Baby toes’ coming up; won’t be virgin for long now.”
Again you swear at me and I so wish I could understand what you’re saying as I know that your words would rival anything that Shakespeare could write. Clenching your toes is your utmost priority and you are maxing your strength to do just that. But I know that your baby toe will be no match for me and will complete my first of many conquests of you. No matter how clenched that toe will be I’ll be able to crack it open and claim the first of my many prizes. I slowly grip it begin tease it unclenched and you go wild again, your foot desperately writhing in my grip and you swearing at me once more. I get really torturous and stroke on its joint and you scream and curse.
“Is someone having a toe problem? Do you not like me babying your baby toe? Such a sinfully succulent toe; all ready to be unvirginized and terrorized. Well I’m all ready and fervidly ravenous for that. The time has come, to let your toe, I love it so.”
You scream no and promise revenge on me when you get loose and I laugh back at you once more. And promise you that there is still the right foot to deal with, and deal with it I will. I have never seen such struggling, writhing and fighting before and I am getting turned on by it. And so I’m going take you as far as I can get and as slowly as possible too.
“Cooch, cooch, cooch, on the toe, toe, toe, who’s getting tickled and loves it so.”
You squeal, scream and swear at me and I know I have you on the edge, and am planning on keeping you there. Oh my God you are a fighter and a half and I’m getting more and more turned on by it. You are bouncing the bed now, moving it and you are also begging me to stop, but there is no need for me to stop as I have only yet just begun. I release your baby toe but firmly grip all five toes and spidertickle from heel to toes and back causing you to laugh intensely and buck much the same. I knew little to nothing about your ticklish feet but I’m sure glad I know everything now. And I’m wondering if this could be the just the tip of the full body iceberg. Changing positions I cup my right hand under your left heel then firmly grip the foot, and you continue to go wild under me, begging for me not to do this and promising me that I can tickle you anywhere else. My response to retrieve the feather and give you a quick set of rapid strokes up the spasming sole with the quill end, bringing sudden but more intense cackling and violent writhing.
“I think someone likes feathers and he never told me about that.”
Your head and bum repeatedly pounded the mattress and you again put all of your strength into freeing your foot. The quill rakes and revs over your sole as your foot explodes in ticklish agony and writhes intensely, trying desperately to get away from my relentless and oh so torturous tickling tool. Dare I say I have you desperately clinging onto the edge of sanity, trying anything and everything to not fall into insanity. You are really writhing now, as you desperately don’t want me to even touch you, let alone play with your feet. The mere fact that I am enjoying this is driving you wild, as you don’t know just how much I like this. Your head suddenly lifts as I both hands to tighten my grip on your right foot and you suddenly realize that I am about to seriously tickle it and your leg begins pumping furiously. I flick my nails up and down your sole once and you squeal and this brings comments of approval from me, followed by more flickering.
“Oh my, you are having a bad time of it and I’m having a wonderful time of it and I can honestly say I don’t want it to stop. This is a side of you that I am enjoying with ravenous fervidness. ”
You squeal to scream again and I know that I have almost terrified you with my newly discovered knowledge that you are ticklish in the first place, let alone this intensely ticklish and that I have a zeal for it. I have never really tickled anyone on purpose and for so long, but in your case I’ll make an exception and take you far beyond my anything. I rapidly rake my fingers up and down your sole an d this has you scream swear words at me and buck and writhe harder and more intensely than before. I am insanely delighted at your reactions and continue and this has you swear more. You can’t take this, you know it and I now it and you can’t take that either. I have you by the toes and I am not letting go by a longshot and/or a long tickle.
Now I rake my fingers across and under your toes and you continue to go wild, screaming, yelling and trying anything to get me to stop. You are a bucking, writhing, sweating mess and I am loving every moment of it. Did I just hear you scream for death to take you? How nice of you to scream that way for me, to make me feel wanted, needed and loved.
“Let me understand this correctly.” I tease, “This is the right way to tickle your foot? So then this would be the right way to tickle your right foot?”
You scream no and swear at me again and I cannot resist laughing back at you once more. The word “screwed” and I know that you are as I continue to have the upper hand, or in your case, the upper foot. And I plan to also have the other upper foot as well.
I suddenly stop and watch as your chest heaves, you grab for every ounce of air you can get and your writhing subsides. It doesn’t subside totally though as you involuntarily twitch and spasm and your voice of legible sentences returns. I return to your upper body and let my fingers flutter in your armpits and again you scream and tell me to fuck off. I have you good and you’re screaming mad at me, but that doesn’t help you in the least, but at the same time it give more help and information about you that I’ve ever known before.
Now you are begging to me, telling me what good friends we are and how friends would never do this to each other. Do what I ask back. I’m only tickling you and it can’t be that bad can it? You swear at me again, telling me that I know fully well it does. I then ask, if it’s bad, why are you happily laughing all the time? You respond very tersely that screams of laughter are anything but happy and that you will fucking kill me when you get loose.
“I’ve often wondered why there are feathers about the place, now I know why.”
You shriek as I pick one up and I flit it under your nose, causing you to jerk and then writhe. I grip your left forearm right by your armpit, my thumb stretching your armpit skin taught and I reverse the feather and begin rapidly stroking the quill end in your deepest recess. You shriek once more, swear at me again and then burst into intense laughter, and bucking and writhing.
“I’ve hit another hotspot! You are just a cornucopia of ticklish delights, and I plan on feasting on this generously exquisite buffet.”
You are swearing at me a blue streak and I laugh back at you once more.
"Does this quill tickle you?” I tease. “Somehow your reactions are giving me that idea.”
You growl at me and utter some more profane language that makes me giggle. I continue tickling, glancing back at you to see those grimacing looks that I love so much. While I can’t see your eyes I know that they’re scrunched tightly shut and I giggle again. Again you growl at me, and again the profane language is uttered. Again you growl at me, and again the profane language is uttered. I tell you again how much you look like a young Nancy Sinatra, and then begin singing “These feet are made for tickling and that’s just what I’ll do…” This has you growl at me further and I can now only hear some illegible language coming from you. I have you where I want you, totally under my control and ready to promise me anything.
“Damn I love this armpit, it’s so soft, tender and ticklish! I wonder if the other one is just as ticklish.”
My wonderment is moot as you know that I’m going to tickle it at some point, and now that you know that I know that the quill is the perfect tool to do so, you are fighting with all your strength.
“This just might be even better than playing piggies on your toes, although I haven’t played piggies on your right foot yet, and so that remains to be seen.”
I know you want to just plain kill me no end as you never knew that I would find about this; one of your weaknesses and that I would instantly, fervidly and ravenously fall in love with tickling you. There is no end to tickling you and I have only just begun on another hotspot, and with the ultimate tool to tickle it with no less. You are hysterical, freaking out, severely begging me to stop and promising to kill me no end and that only makes me want to tease and tickle you more. I lean over you and begin to quill your right armpit and this has you react accordingly.
“Time to do a piggies comparison test; right foot now.”
I quickly move around to your right foot and grip it and you scream once more and this time there is no pattern as I happily tweak and wriggle your toes at random. Your begging is non-stop and your laughter deep, almost guttural, making me glad to tweak them.
“Someone has very sensitive size ten feet and these toes and high arch are very appealing to me. This is one very sensual and sexy foot. Not to mention ticklish.”
You violently pull on the restraints.
You continue to writhe, pulling at the restraints with all the strength you have left. This has me laugh and I increase my grip. Your foot has little room to manoeuvre as I flick my nails once more up your sole, flicking in between your toes.
I have control of your right foot and delight in feeling what raw power is in it as it writhes to free itself. I again flick my nails up and down your sole, paying special attention to the ball of your foot and your arch. Your guttural laughing continues and I nod and smile with pleasure.
“Oh you are exquisite and I love how hysterical your toes are. This will make tweaking and teasing them much more fun.”
Still another “Fuck” erupts from you and I giggle and continue tickling. Your legs are pumping and writhing so much, that I have to strengthen my grip to retain control and even then your foot squirms. You repeatedly slam your head and bum onto the mattress, your laughter flowing like a raging river and I teas you by saying that I could tweak and tease these luscious toes for hours, kinky one, so I hope you have the time. Of course you have the time; you’re tied and now going anywhere. Another moot point.
I take a little longer in tweaking and teasing your second and middle toes and this has you writhing even more. I begin describing your hysterical movement and laughter, taunting you with the fact that you are mine and that again I have all the time in the world. I call you a little bucker then laugh and continue to tweak and tease your toes.
“A change of pace?”
Suddenly I stop and slowly whisper the word hairbrush. This has you begin bucking again and I congratulate you on revealing another one of your secrets and you for telling me something I will definitely remember. I grip your right foot’s toes and slowly bend them back, making your sole taught and ready for the brushe. It is then I suggest that I then began to slide the brush from side to side across your sole and you continue bucking and your bucking is instantly followed by more guttural laughter.
“What’s the matter Shea?” I ask, “Do you not like me brushing up on your tickling?”
I laugh, knowing that you desperately want to tell me to get off your foot, but that your laughter has stolen your voice and that both your laughter and bucking has stolen your concentration. The bed is rocking and you are cackling to MY heart’s content personified, and this has me happily continue. To me your sole is heaven and I know that want to enjoy them for sometime to come. You however are bucking and laughing intensely to almost hysterically now and I can tell that you definitely want me to cease with the brush and that you could even be at the point to promising me anything if I will stop. If that is the case, I’d love to stop to see exactly what you would do for me if I promised to stop.
“I see someone’s getting a little turned on by all of this.” I announce, now looking down between your legs. “And those inner thighs look so tempting.”
“FUCK NO!” You hiss and continue your writhing. “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!!!”
I laugh and move to your waist. “Did you just give me an engraved invitation? I believe you did.”
I look at you and smirk then hang my fingers like a hawk’s talons over your thighs.
“Well now I know; you’re screwed and guess what else! I just so love this fetish!”
I Know, You’re Screwed and Guess What Else
Inspired by tickledwife
Written by ticklishscribe
c.
I have you spread to the bed; stripped, stretched and ready to be stroked and I am already salivating over the time to come. My silence and the fact that you’re blindfolded, has you moving your head all over to at least get a moment of sound to tell you where I am and what I’m doing. You look so hot dressed in only your bra and panties is teasing me big time and no end and I want to take my revenge for that reasons at least. You’re a teddy bear and I’m going to tickle the stuffing out of you.
“Just become my name is Angel, doesn’t mean I am one. Would my Shea like an orgasm later on?” You squirm at my first words since tying you down and I watch with great delight as your head moves all around again. I am also delighted that just the sound of my voice and the words that I use, have total control of you and my eyes surf you all over.
“No use you struggling as you won’t get free. But I definitely want you struggling up a storm when I tickle and slowly orgasm you”
I can’t wait to get those feet as they are so exquisitely sensual and drive me wild every time I see them. I want to tweak your toes and play piggies as I know it will drive you insane, and cause you to buck and writhe up a storm. Already you are intensely squirming and already I’m loving it and planning my next moves.
Every inch of chubby you is beautiful; from your black hair, your hazel eyes, shapely upper body complete with a hint of ribs, down to your hipbones and right down to your size 7’s with high wide arches, plump toes and rounded features which are very soft and sensitive. Those feet that are now teasing me no end and giving me another reason.
I gaze at your feet, then take a ruler and size them up; nine inches long and three and three one half inches wide, make for a perfect 31 and a half square inches of ticklish sole per foot, for a grand total of sixty three square inches for both feet. This brings me no end of delight and I must resist the urge to ravage those soles right off the bat. As I measure them, you wriggle to writhe and get very jumpy, flinching, arching your back and feet failing all over.
“I’ve heard all about these!”
You writhe at my words and are desperately trying to hold yourself together and not let me see any weaknesses in you, but a single quick stroke to each sole, causes you to writhe even and giggle to cackle. I can tell that your senses are on the highest alert possible and I love it. To really test your senses I whisper the word feather very slowly and you squeal and writhe some more, giving away the first of many secrets that I will extract from you. I can tell that your nerve endings are standing at attention. In fact they were so rigid they are at the breaking point and you’re on the edge. You want to scream and beg me not to tickle you, but your voice doesn’t function properly. You want to run, but the bonds prevent that. What you desperately want is not available to you and the fact that I have total control over you only heightens that feeling to the point where you are almost terrified. Instantly your feet again pull back on the restraints and I watch as your toes curl tightly over as if to find even the remotest protection for themselves. I imagine them hiding like frightened little mice running from the barnyard cat, and giggle again.
“Even so much as one quick stroke across your toes Shea and I can uncover them then take them prisoner. But first…”
A sudden squeal erupts from you and I know that you are on edge and that I have uncovered another secret. To really tease you, I tell you that I’m not going to tickle right away, but that I had a good game of the piggies in mind first. With that in mind I used two fingers, grip your big toe and slowly bend it back. You fight hard to clench it, but my grip is firm and the toe is mine. Bending it back I take a moment to give you a few strokes on the joint with the quill end of the feather and this causes you to squeal and then whole-heartedly giggle. I reverse the feather and now let the tendrils slowly, sensually and evilly surf the very edge of your sole, then move inward to surf the ball of your foot and your arch, creating a ballet of tickles. I then lightly flick it across the base of your toes and then begin probe in between them with the slightest feather touch. Each tendril of the fiendish feather takes a nerve ending and backs it up against a wall then hammers home the tickling, untill your giggles turn to cackles. I smile evilly and tell you that the day is young and that there are endless tickles to come.
I want to set you off but not with tickles and so I grip your left foot with both hands and begin kissing your clenched toes. Instantly you squeal, jerk and begin writhing and I laugh at you again. Slowly I kiss your toes, big toe first and work my way over to your baby toe. Each toe is thoroughly kissed; top, soft pad bottom and in between, and you writhe and buck as best you can. The strength in your foot tells me that you are putting up some serious struggling, bucking and writhing and that suits me just fine as I want every reaction I can get from you. You girl are turning me on tickle wise and I want to tickle you every which way but loose. I can’t get over how soft your feet are, how pliable your toes are and how sensitive your feet are in general. Tickling them is going to be beyond exquisite and I’m going to make the most it too.
“These toes are just so romantic and I love how they kiss me back.”
You swear back at me and tell me that your toes are not kissing me and would never kiss me, but any words you could make after that are gone as laughter steals them. The bondage is holding you good and my grip on your foot is the icing on the cake, but I want more and so I begin wriggling your toes big toe first.
“Does this little piggy want to go to market and leave me? Well I won’t let it.”
You squeal and begin laughing again, still bucking and writhing and I wriggle the toe all over. My god you are amazing and awesome and I want to make this last as long as possible.
“This index piggy; ah, do I call it an index piggy or the second piggy? No matter, this next piggy stayed home because it had no choice; it was all tied up. And aren’t tied piggies delicious?”
Damn I have to grip your foot even tighter to keep it still and even then it still moves around like a wildcat. You’re totally amazing and am giving me the dream ticklee’s reaction of all time and so God knows what how you’ll react when I tickle your soles.
“This middle piggy here; the tallest one of the left foot family, didn’t get roast beef, but is getting a BLT instead; that’s bound, loved and tickled. And your bread is about to get toasted.”
You are now screaming and swearing at me; curse words I’ve never even heard before; but that’s fine by me. I kiss your middle toe again and rock your world and in doing so receive encores of swearing and cursing and screaming. To receive one more encore from this toe I scratch its joint a little and the vocabulary from you is at first unrepeatable in public then illegible as your laughter takes over once again.
“Now this fourth toe here, the fourth of your meaty toes is patiently waiting for its turn to get it. Yeah right; the cringing and clenching it’s doing right now is turning me on something ravenous and I plan on feasting on it personified.”
You yell no and curse me some more and really put the restraints through the ringer. I grip it, slowly bend it back, kiss its joint then nibble it and you scream louder than before. I have your senses jacked up against the wall and there is no place for them to go.
“Baby toes’ coming up; won’t be virgin for long now.”
Again you swear at me and I so wish I could understand what you’re saying as I know that your words would rival anything that Shakespeare could write. Clenching your toes is your utmost priority and you are maxing your strength to do just that. But I know that your baby toe will be no match for me and will complete my first of many conquests of you. No matter how clenched that toe will be I’ll be able to crack it open and claim the first of my many prizes. I slowly grip it begin tease it unclenched and you go wild again, your foot desperately writhing in my grip and you swearing at me once more. I get really torturous and stroke on its joint and you scream and curse.
“Is someone having a toe problem? Do you not like me babying your baby toe? Such a sinfully succulent toe; all ready to be unvirginized and terrorized. Well I’m all ready and fervidly ravenous for that. The time has come, to let your toe, I love it so.”
You scream no and promise revenge on me when you get loose and I laugh back at you once more. And promise you that there is still the right foot to deal with, and deal with it I will. I have never seen such struggling, writhing and fighting before and I am getting turned on by it. And so I’m going take you as far as I can get and as slowly as possible too.
“Cooch, cooch, cooch, on the toe, toe, toe, who’s getting tickled and loves it so.”
You squeal, scream and swear at me and I know I have you on the edge, and am planning on keeping you there. Oh my God you are a fighter and a half and I’m getting more and more turned on by it. You are bouncing the bed now, moving it and you are also begging me to stop, but there is no need for me to stop as I have only yet just begun. I release your baby toe but firmly grip all five toes and spidertickle from heel to toes and back causing you to laugh intensely and buck much the same. I knew little to nothing about your ticklish feet but I’m sure glad I know everything now. And I’m wondering if this could be the just the tip of the full body iceberg. Changing positions I cup my right hand under your left heel then firmly grip the foot, and you continue to go wild under me, begging for me not to do this and promising me that I can tickle you anywhere else. My response to retrieve the feather and give you a quick set of rapid strokes up the spasming sole with the quill end, bringing sudden but more intense cackling and violent writhing.
“I think someone likes feathers and he never told me about that.”
Your head and bum repeatedly pounded the mattress and you again put all of your strength into freeing your foot. The quill rakes and revs over your sole as your foot explodes in ticklish agony and writhes intensely, trying desperately to get away from my relentless and oh so torturous tickling tool. Dare I say I have you desperately clinging onto the edge of sanity, trying anything and everything to not fall into insanity. You are really writhing now, as you desperately don’t want me to even touch you, let alone play with your feet. The mere fact that I am enjoying this is driving you wild, as you don’t know just how much I like this. Your head suddenly lifts as I both hands to tighten my grip on your right foot and you suddenly realize that I am about to seriously tickle it and your leg begins pumping furiously. I flick my nails up and down your sole once and you squeal and this brings comments of approval from me, followed by more flickering.
“Oh my, you are having a bad time of it and I’m having a wonderful time of it and I can honestly say I don’t want it to stop. This is a side of you that I am enjoying with ravenous fervidness. ”
You squeal to scream again and I know that I have almost terrified you with my newly discovered knowledge that you are ticklish in the first place, let alone this intensely ticklish and that I have a zeal for it. I have never really tickled anyone on purpose and for so long, but in your case I’ll make an exception and take you far beyond my anything. I rapidly rake my fingers up and down your sole an d this has you scream swear words at me and buck and writhe harder and more intensely than before. I am insanely delighted at your reactions and continue and this has you swear more. You can’t take this, you know it and I now it and you can’t take that either. I have you by the toes and I am not letting go by a longshot and/or a long tickle.
Now I rake my fingers across and under your toes and you continue to go wild, screaming, yelling and trying anything to get me to stop. You are a bucking, writhing, sweating mess and I am loving every moment of it. Did I just hear you scream for death to take you? How nice of you to scream that way for me, to make me feel wanted, needed and loved.
“Let me understand this correctly.” I tease, “This is the right way to tickle your foot? So then this would be the right way to tickle your right foot?”
You scream no and swear at me again and I cannot resist laughing back at you once more. The word “screwed” and I know that you are as I continue to have the upper hand, or in your case, the upper foot. And I plan to also have the other upper foot as well.
I suddenly stop and watch as your chest heaves, you grab for every ounce of air you can get and your writhing subsides. It doesn’t subside totally though as you involuntarily twitch and spasm and your voice of legible sentences returns. I return to your upper body and let my fingers flutter in your armpits and again you scream and tell me to fuck off. I have you good and you’re screaming mad at me, but that doesn’t help you in the least, but at the same time it give more help and information about you that I’ve ever known before.
Now you are begging to me, telling me what good friends we are and how friends would never do this to each other. Do what I ask back. I’m only tickling you and it can’t be that bad can it? You swear at me again, telling me that I know fully well it does. I then ask, if it’s bad, why are you happily laughing all the time? You respond very tersely that screams of laughter are anything but happy and that you will fucking kill me when you get loose.
“I’ve often wondered why there are feathers about the place, now I know why.”
You shriek as I pick one up and I flit it under your nose, causing you to jerk and then writhe. I grip your left forearm right by your armpit, my thumb stretching your armpit skin taught and I reverse the feather and begin rapidly stroking the quill end in your deepest recess. You shriek once more, swear at me again and then burst into intense laughter, and bucking and writhing.
“I’ve hit another hotspot! You are just a cornucopia of ticklish delights, and I plan on feasting on this generously exquisite buffet.”
You are swearing at me a blue streak and I laugh back at you once more.
"Does this quill tickle you?” I tease. “Somehow your reactions are giving me that idea.”
You growl at me and utter some more profane language that makes me giggle. I continue tickling, glancing back at you to see those grimacing looks that I love so much. While I can’t see your eyes I know that they’re scrunched tightly shut and I giggle again. Again you growl at me, and again the profane language is uttered. Again you growl at me, and again the profane language is uttered. I tell you again how much you look like a young Nancy Sinatra, and then begin singing “These feet are made for tickling and that’s just what I’ll do…” This has you growl at me further and I can now only hear some illegible language coming from you. I have you where I want you, totally under my control and ready to promise me anything.
“Damn I love this armpit, it’s so soft, tender and ticklish! I wonder if the other one is just as ticklish.”
My wonderment is moot as you know that I’m going to tickle it at some point, and now that you know that I know that the quill is the perfect tool to do so, you are fighting with all your strength.
“This just might be even better than playing piggies on your toes, although I haven’t played piggies on your right foot yet, and so that remains to be seen.”
I know you want to just plain kill me no end as you never knew that I would find about this; one of your weaknesses and that I would instantly, fervidly and ravenously fall in love with tickling you. There is no end to tickling you and I have only just begun on another hotspot, and with the ultimate tool to tickle it with no less. You are hysterical, freaking out, severely begging me to stop and promising to kill me no end and that only makes me want to tease and tickle you more. I lean over you and begin to quill your right armpit and this has you react accordingly.
“Time to do a piggies comparison test; right foot now.”
I quickly move around to your right foot and grip it and you scream once more and this time there is no pattern as I happily tweak and wriggle your toes at random. Your begging is non-stop and your laughter deep, almost guttural, making me glad to tweak them.
“Someone has very sensitive size ten feet and these toes and high arch are very appealing to me. This is one very sensual and sexy foot. Not to mention ticklish.”
You violently pull on the restraints.
You continue to writhe, pulling at the restraints with all the strength you have left. This has me laugh and I increase my grip. Your foot has little room to manoeuvre as I flick my nails once more up your sole, flicking in between your toes.
I have control of your right foot and delight in feeling what raw power is in it as it writhes to free itself. I again flick my nails up and down your sole, paying special attention to the ball of your foot and your arch. Your guttural laughing continues and I nod and smile with pleasure.
“Oh you are exquisite and I love how hysterical your toes are. This will make tweaking and teasing them much more fun.”
Still another “Fuck” erupts from you and I giggle and continue tickling. Your legs are pumping and writhing so much, that I have to strengthen my grip to retain control and even then your foot squirms. You repeatedly slam your head and bum onto the mattress, your laughter flowing like a raging river and I teas you by saying that I could tweak and tease these luscious toes for hours, kinky one, so I hope you have the time. Of course you have the time; you’re tied and now going anywhere. Another moot point.
I take a little longer in tweaking and teasing your second and middle toes and this has you writhing even more. I begin describing your hysterical movement and laughter, taunting you with the fact that you are mine and that again I have all the time in the world. I call you a little bucker then laugh and continue to tweak and tease your toes.
“A change of pace?”
Suddenly I stop and slowly whisper the word hairbrush. This has you begin bucking again and I congratulate you on revealing another one of your secrets and you for telling me something I will definitely remember. I grip your right foot’s toes and slowly bend them back, making your sole taught and ready for the brushe. It is then I suggest that I then began to slide the brush from side to side across your sole and you continue bucking and your bucking is instantly followed by more guttural laughter.
“What’s the matter Shea?” I ask, “Do you not like me brushing up on your tickling?”
I laugh, knowing that you desperately want to tell me to get off your foot, but that your laughter has stolen your voice and that both your laughter and bucking has stolen your concentration. The bed is rocking and you are cackling to MY heart’s content personified, and this has me happily continue. To me your sole is heaven and I know that want to enjoy them for sometime to come. You however are bucking and laughing intensely to almost hysterically now and I can tell that you definitely want me to cease with the brush and that you could even be at the point to promising me anything if I will stop. If that is the case, I’d love to stop to see exactly what you would do for me if I promised to stop.
“I see someone’s getting a little turned on by all of this.” I announce, now looking down between your legs. “And those inner thighs look so tempting.”
“FUCK NO!” You hiss and continue your writhing. “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!!!”
I laugh and move to your waist. “Did you just give me an engraved invitation? I believe you did.”
I look at you and smirk then hang my fingers like a hawk’s talons over your thighs.
“Well now I know; you’re screwed and guess what else! I just so love this fetish!”
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