YouNeverKnow175
TMF Master
- Joined
- Sep 30, 2002
- Messages
- 810
- Points
- 18
The taxi driver rolled his eyes as he turned onto the exit for the airport. He was growing weary after a half-hour of listening to the young woman in the back seat talking to her mother.
“Mom, I’m doing what I always do…yes…it’s how I always do the red-eye flights, Mom! I wear my sweats and I try to make it feel as close as possible to my own bed….I know I might be tired but there’s a lot I want to do when I get home tomorrow! I’m only in town for a few days before I fly to New York to see my friends there! Yes, we’ll play tennis in the morning, and in the afternoon I’m going to see Sarah and Katherine, and then I’ll be home for dinner. I’m only home for a short time, Mom, I have lots to do! Oh, yes, pedicures on Saturday would be great!” On and on she went about her plans, sounding self-important and snooty.
Jocelyn barely acknowledged the cab driver as she quickly paid and hopped out. “Mom, I’m at the airport, I have to go. I’ll call you before we take off if I can. Bye.” She strutted swiftly through the crowds into the airport doors, her long legs and wide strides carrying her slim 5’9” frame through the corridors and to the security checkpoint, where she had to wait in line. Nervously checking her phone, eyeing the people around her, Jocelyn could barely stand still even though she had no reason to be antsy - she had plenty of time before her flight.
Jocelyn smiled at a few cute guys in line. She was used to the attention. At twenty-seven, Jocelyn was a knockout beauty. She had shoulder-length light brown hair that was wavy at the tips. Her eyes were hazel. Her body was perfect - she could have easily been a model. Even in her black sweatpants, grey hoodie and sneakers, Jocelyn was catching all the boys’ eyes.
She loved the attention and she loved to flirt. She hid her insecurity and anxiousness behind her bright smile and seductive-yet-innocent eyes. She tried to hide her self-centeredness, but that pretty much came through loud and clear.
Going through security, Jocelyn took off her sneakers. She was wearing white ankle socks underneath. She went through the scanner, after which a woman in uniform asked her to please step to the side. “The instruction was to empty all your pockets,” the agent said. The agent was African-American, 5’5”, attractive, in her late thirties, and clearly meant business.
“Oh…I…” Jocelyn stammered.
“I’m going to touch your leg now,” the woman informed her, per protocol, as she stroked with her whole palm three times down the pocket area of Jocelyn’s sweatpants. Jocelyn gasped and let out a surprised, “Oh!” and took a step backward.
“Miss, please stand still,” the woman said dryly, clearly annoyed.
“Sorry…it, um, tickled…” Jocelyn said sheepishly.
“I need to do it again, standing still please. First take everything out of that pocket.” Jocelyn reached in and pulled out a stick of gum. Then the woman felt along her upper thigh and hip area again, this time making circular pulsing motions. Jocelyn bit her lip, then broke into a giggle.
“Miss, please.”
Jocelyn giggled through the probing and groping of her upper thigh. “IneedtomoveI’mgonnaneedtomove” she said quickly and forcefully.
“We’re done there,” the agent said. Jocelyn breathed a sigh of relief. “Now your sweatshirt pocket. Please take everything out.”
Jocelyn couldn’t believe it. How could she have been so foolish? She removed a scrap of paper and a pen from her pocket in her abdomen area. The agent then said, “I”m going to touch your stomach now.”
“Um, well - ” Jocelyn started to try to say, but it was too late. The agent placed her hand inside Jocelyn’s sweatshirt pocket. Jocelyn doubled over in laughter. The woman stared at her angrily.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m just very ticklish,” Jocelyn said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “Let’s try that again,” said the agent.
She reached inside Jocelyn’s pocket again. Jocelyn winced, bit her lip, and squirmed. “Eeeyeeeyeeeyeeeeeeyeeeee!!” she squealed in a high-pitched voice, trying to do everything she could to keep from collapsing her upper body again. “Okay, good,” the agent side. “Other side now.” She reached into the left side. “Ohmygodohmygod….sorrysorrysorry, it tickles, it tickles, IT TICKLES!” Jocelyn said, seemingly shifting into a stream of consciousness mode to try to do whatever she could not to break down laughing. The probe on this side felt like it lasted forever. “I’mgonnalaughIneedtomoveIneedtomove, I’msorryI’msorry, IcanthelpitIcanthelpitICANTHELPIT!!!!” With that she dissolved into heavy laughter for the final five seconds that the agent was touching her stomach, then laughed for another five after she stopped, wiggling her body around wildly, as if trying to shake loose a demon.
The woman stared at Jocelyn like she was crazy. “You gonna be okay, girl?”
Jocelyn turned red. “Um, yes….I’m just…..super ticklish….”
“Well you’re lucky you weren’t hiding anything in your socks!” the agent cracked a smile for the first time.
Jocelyn got chills thinking about it. She quickly scurried away.
After clearing security and waiting at the gate, Jocelyn boarded the plane. She was looking forward to going home, back East. She didn’t see her family nearly enough now that she was living in California. Hearing Jocelyn’s voice on the phone, though, which everyone on the plane was experiencing now as she boarded, one could have easily pinned her as a valley girl, born and raised. “Mom, it’s like, my trip! I’m the one who’s coming all this way and never gets to see people back home!” she said as she sat down in her window seat and buckled her seatbelt. She talked for a few more minutes, then hung up, flustered. Minutes later, the plane took off.
Jocelyn had her whole red-eye routine down pat: her sweats, her eye mask, her travel pillow, putting the seat back as far as it could possibly go, and propping her feet up on her backpack underneath the seat in front of her to make herself as horizontal as possible. She had kicked off her sneakers, but her feet were still hot. She reached down and pulled off her socks. She felt a tinge of self-consciousness, quickly overcome by another inner voice that told her she can do whatever she wants. She propped her bare feet back up on her backpack and stretched her long legs as far as they would reach. The cabin lights were out. Most people around her were going to sleep in the darkness. Jocelyn closed her eyes.
Chrissy liked to drink on red-eye flights. It helped her relax. She usually couldn’t sleep anyway, but at least being tipsy made it all seem more tolerable. She sipped her tequila and restlessly flipped through the pages of Vanity Fair magazine in her seat. After a few drinks she began to feel quite relaxed and also turned on. Chrissy had always been quite comfortable with her own sexuality, but now that she was in her early thirties, she was even more so. She felt like she wanted to masturbate and loathed the idea that there was still over four hours left of flight time. She ran her hand through her long, straight brown hair. She closed her eyes, hiding their deep brown color. She stretched out - Chrissy, at 5’8”, had long legs, too. Then she pulled her legs back in and began restlessly slipping her perfect, size eight feet out of her mahogany flats. She had a feather tattooed on the top of her right foot.
Chrissy was startled to feel her bare foot bump up against something below her. She looked down, and to her surprise, saw ten toes below her, painted a dark purple. In fact, this woman’s legs were stretched so far out that her two feet were nearly fully under Chrissy’s legs below her. The feet were quite pretty, the toes longish to medium length, and probably about a size nine. The toenails were painted a very dark purple, almost black. She looked back, and saw the smoking hot, irritating-as-hell girl she had noticed earlier talking on the phone. The girl had an eye mask on and appeared to be sound asleep.
The tipsy wheels of Chrissy’s mind began to turn. She loved to tickle. It turned her on like nothing else - especially tickling women. What the hell, she thought, you only live once. She opened her bag and took out her own eye mask, a thick one which she’d brought from home, which had a velcro strap to fasten it shut. She carefully placed it around the girl’s ankles and secured it tightly, effectively tying her ankles together. She was pretty sure that without being able to move her legs individually, the girl wouldn’t be able to pull her feet away because of how they were position atop her big, bulky backpack. Chrissy noticed that the tops of the girls legs were pressed firmly against the bottom of the seat, tightly sandwiched between that and the backpack.
In a deep slumber, Jocelyn felt a light stroke on the bottoms of her feet. Her feet flinched. She smiled sleepily. Then she felt another stroke, this one a bit firmer. Still sleeping, she made a girly, giggly sound, “Eeeeeeheeheeee!” The tickling sensation continued. “Dad, come on,” she muttered. A few seconds later, she said, “Dad it really tickles!”
Chrissy smiled. This was a better start than she could have imagined. She liked picturing Jocelyn’s dad - whoever he was - tickling her feet to the point that she couldn’t stand it. “Dad!” she laughed out loud. “Go tickle Mally!” She laughed again. “Dad Mally’s more ticklish - stop!!!”
Suddenly, she woke up and pulled off her eye mask. She looked around the cabin. Everything was dark. She must have been dreaming. She put her mask back on and rested her head on her travel pillow. Then she felt fingers dancing along her left sole. She jerked her foot back but found she couldn’t move it. “Wait, what’s going on?” she said aloud. She pulled off her mask again. There was no one in the seat next to her. There was another girl in the aisle seat, sleeping. She felt the tickling again.
“Hey!” Jocelyn said nervously. She leaned forward to the seat in front of her, where she could see a young woman leaning downward. “What are you doing?” she whispered forcefully. No response. Then, the fingers started again, dancing on both soles. But this time the motion was continual, rather than swift starting and stopping. Jocelyn curled her toes and tried to pull away. She couldn’t. Her feet were stuck because of the way she’d positioned herself. “Are you -“ she started to ask nervously, but then broke into a giggle. She felt embarrassed. She looked around to see if anyone had heard her. The fingers continued to dance lightly along her soles and she started laughing more. “No really,” she said, trying to regain her composure. “Really, stop…”
But the tickling only grew more fervent. Strokes became swifter, firmer and remained continual. “No no no -“ Jocelyn said, now sounding panicked. “Seriously - stop! You’re tickling my - hahahaaaaaa - don’t tickle me!” She pulled her legs hard, but couldn’t move. She started reaching down to pull her back pack out from under the seat in front of her, but she couldn’t reach far enough down, because she couldn’t bend her legs.
The stroking became swifter and more relentless. Jocelyn didn’t want to laugh, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like laughing would make the woman think that she liked it. But she couldn’t stand it. She started laughing hard. She covered her face with her hands out of embarrassment. She didn’t want to wake anyone up. She didn’t want to make a scene. But it tickled so much.
Through her laughter, she continued to beg the mysterious woman in front of her, torturing her: “Are you crazy? Please!! Stop!! I’m going to - hahahahaHAAAAAAA - I’m going to wake everyone up from laughhhhhahahahahahahaahahahing!!!”
She looked around again, hoping for a savior. Should she wake the girl in the aisle seat and ask for help? Something about it felt too embarrassing to Jocelyn. She could be fiercely competitive with other women, and this other woman was pretty. There was something about the idea of her knowing how ticklish and helpless Jocelyn was that Jocelyn hated. She wished it was a guy. Then she’d wake him. She could be his damsel in distress. Her prince charming could save her. She wouldn’t mind him knowing how ticklish she was - he’d probably find it cute.
But then Chrissy started tickling right underneath Jocelyn’s toes. “Ohhhhh noooooooo” Jocelyn bellowed, descending into deep, low laughter. “Nooo - ho - hoooooooooooo!!!” She thrashed in her seat, trying to pull away. Her violent flailing caused her back pack to move slightly and for a second Jocelyn thought she could break free. But then she felt the tight clasp of the woman’s legs on her ankles. She was even more immobilized than before. And the woman was tickling her toes.
She tried again to negotiate but couldn’t get many words out. “I don’t know what you - HAHAHAHAHAH PLEASE - I’ll do anything - just - HAHAHAHA - seriously, seriously - HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!! STOP!!! I know this might be just fun and games to you but - I’m REALLY TICKLISH!!!”
Chrissy was wondering if she was going to have the will power to be able to keep both hands on Jocelyn’s feet or if she was going to need to start touching herself.
Jocelyn remembered how she’d taken her socks off and wished to God that she’d kept them on. Chrissy picked up the intensity yet another notch, alternating between fervent tickling under and around Jocelyn’s toes and feverish spidering all over her arches and balls of her feet.
Jocelyn’s laughter became hysterical. She needed to find a way to get it to stop. She tried begging one more time. “You don’t understand - HAHAHAHAHA - I know I’m laughing but it’s NOT FUNNY - my feet are - HAHAHAH - REALLY REALLY TICKLISH!!!”
Jocelyn felt extremely shy and embarrassed about pressing the call button and being found by a flight attendant in this predicament, but she didn’t feel like she had a choice. She felt like she was about to lose her mind. She pressed the button.
When Chrissy saw the flight attendant coming, she stopped and pretended to sleep.
“Can I help you, Miss?” the flight attendant asked.
“Um…yes, I’m sorry to bother you, but,” Chrissy said nervously, “the woman in front of me is tickling my feet and she won’t stop.”
The flight attendant raised an eyebrow. She looked at Chrissy, who appeared to be sound asleep. “Sweetheart, I think you’re just having a bad dream. Go back to sleep, honey.” She walked away.
Jocelyn was indignant for a second, but then was flooded with panic. The one hope she’d had for stopping the tickling - if she’d absolutely needed to - was gone. She looked around her again. Everyone was asleep.
Chrissy grinned devilishly, then reached into her toiletries bag to see what toys she had. She pulled out a Q-tip, leaned downward, and began running the Q-tip in between Jocelyn’s toes.
Jocelyn’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She could tell the woman wasn’t touching her toes with her fingers but she wasn’t sure what it was. The sensation was lighter, somewhat less intense, and yet at the same time, maddening. Jocelyn was somewhat grateful for the reprieve, but in the moments that the Q-tip slid just past the right spot, her jaw would drop and she’d thrust her upper body sideways in some feeble attempt to withstand the jolts of tickles. For the most part, though, she managed not to laugh as the Q-tip slid between her toes. Chrissy missed her laughter, though, and began to move the Q-tip slowly in the area right beneath her toes and up and down the bottom of her toes.
“Heeeee-eyy-eyyyyy!!!” Jocelyn exclaimed as the new movements started. “Stop!” she whispered firmly and assertively, before dissolving into girlish giggles. “Heee hee heeeeeee!!!! What IS that? What are you - heeeeeeeheheheheheeeeee - touching my foo-oooooot with??!”
Chrissy began to wiggle the Q-tip underneath Jocelyn’s toes more vigorously. Jocelyn’s toes wiggled wildly and her laughter became more steady. “Okay okay!!!” she laughed, “I - hahahha - I really can’t - hahahah - I can’t stand it there - HAHAHAHAAAAAA!!! I can’t stand it under my toes!!!”
For several minutes Chrissy danced the Q-tip in this delicious area, delighting in Jocelyn’s reaction. She would tease her by stopping for a few seconds, making Jocelyn think she might actually finally be getting bored and stopping. Jocelyn would sigh, as if she were relieved and finally calming down, and then the tickling would suddenly start again and Jocelyn would burst into laughter.
During one of the pauses, Jocelyn heard Chrissy shuffling through her bag. Then she heard a buzzing, vibrating sound. She furrowed her brow in fear and concern. Chrissy smiled. Her battery-powered electric toothbrush still had plenty of charge left.
The toothbrush part of the experience was largely a blur for Jocelyn. When she told her friends about the incident afterward - and she only told a few trusted friends, as she was incredibly humiliated and shocked by the whole thing - she couldn’t remember much about the toothbrush part. She remembered thinking it was a toothbrush but never being sure, and being utterly amazed at how much it tickled. The toes were the worst, by far - she remembered wanting to beg the woman to move to a different spot on her foot, but being unable to speak because of how hard she was laughing. When the woman did move to a different spot, the sensation hardly diminished. She was unable to say how long the woman used the toothbrush for - it seemed like an eternity.
In some ways the toothbrush part was an erotic blur for Chrissy, too. When she’d think about the incident while pleasuring herself in the days to come, she remembered loving how Jocelyn’s laughter went completely silent when she used the toothbrush underneath her toes. She remember Jocelyn’s desperate begging through her laughter and how the things she was saying brought Chrissy closer and closer to coming:
“I’ve - HAHAHAHAHAHA - never been tickled like this….”
“I’m TOO TICKLISH TO - EEEHHEHEHEHEEEHHAAAAAA - TAKE ANYMORE!!!”
And the delirious, rambling begging: “Pleaassssee….I really don’t think you - HAHAAAAAAOOOOOOOOO - understand…..this isn’t - HAHEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHEEE - this isn’t FUN FOR ME…..I’m REALLY, REALLY TICKLISH - I can’t - HAHAHA - I’m too ticklish for - HAHAHAHAHA”
Chrissy thought, “If she says the word ticklish one more time I’m going to come.”
Then: “HAHAPLLEEEASSE it’s not a game to me….hahahahaha……I know some people might think it’s fun but - HAHAHAHAHAHA - I’m probably…..more ticklish…..than most people!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!” Jocelyn grabbed Chrissy’s seat and shook it violently to try to get her to stop. It only made the orgasm all the more pleasurable.
After landing, Chrissy darted off the plane without as much of a glance back. Jocelyn never saw her tormentor’s face.
A few days into her visit home, when her mom asked if she was ready for the pedicure appointment they had planned together, Jocelyn enthusiastically responded yes by habit, then quickly tried to backtrack. “Oh, well, um….actually….I’m, uh, I’m not sure I….”
“What? Jocelyn! You’re always begging me to take you to get a pedicure!” her mom exclaimed in disbelief.
“You know, Mom, I don’t know….I think I’m just not in the mood….”
“Not in the mood? I don’t believe it for a second!”
“Well, last time…it just tickled so much…I’m just not sure I’m up for it….”
“Yes of course it did! It always tickles you and you laugh the whole time! That’s never stopped you before!” Her mom seemingly loved to comment on how ticklish her daughters were during their pedicures.
“Yeah….I…..” Jocelyn didn’t know how to explain to her mom that she simply couldn’t imagine enduring helplessly having the bottoms of her feet scrubbed on this particular day. She got nervous, worrying her mom would sense something was wrong. “I just….I don’t know, I think my feet might be getting more ticklish or something…”
“MORE ticklish?” her mom rolled her eyes. “Is that even possible for you? You and Mally are already the most ticklish girls at the nail salon every time….”
“Yeah, I don’t know….it’s just a feeling I have…..I could barely stand it last time….”
The doorbell rang. It was Jocelyn’s older sister, Mallory. The girls looked like twins. Mallory was three years older and her hair was a little straighter, while Jocelyn’s was slightly wavier. Other than that, from head to toe, they were nearly iden-tickle.
“Get this,” their mom said to Mally. “Your sister doesn’t want to get a pedicure because she thinks her feet are becoming even more ticklish…..”
“Oh?” Mallory was surprised, and didn’t know what to make of it. She looked quizzically at her sister.
Jocelyn, who hadn’t told Mallory about the incident, looked down nervously and said, “Yeah, I don’t know, it was practically torture last time….just not sure I want to put myself through that again….”
“But Joce, you love pedicures…” Mallory said.
“You of all people should understand, Mally….it’s not like they’re easy for you to take, either…”
Mallory blushed. “Yeah, it’s true. But I’m usually the one who can’t keep still…the one Mom can’t believe could possibly be so ticklish…”
“She’s right,” their mom said. “She’s always been the one making the biggest scene at the salon….I always feel like I have to tell everyone how ticklish you are so they don’t think we’re all crazy!”
“But remember last time?” Jocelyn said. “I was the one who could barely keep it together.”
“Keep it together?!” their mom said. “You were going out of your mind!”
“My point exactly!”
“Let’s sit down and you give me your foot, Jocelyn. I want to see if you’re really more ticklish than you used to be.”
“Mom, no…”
“Yes, cmon! If I’m going to cancel your pedicure appointment, I want it to at least be for a good reason. I want to see for myself.” She took Jocelyn’s arm and practically dragged her over to the couch.
“Mom, I….”
“Cmon Jocelyn, shush! Put your foot in my lap.”
Jocelyn was wearing ballet flats without socks. She slid her right foot out, then nervously slid it back in. She repeated this three or four times, unable to bring herself to take her shoe off and give her mother her bare foot.
“Do Mally and I have to pull it off for you? Come on, Jocelyn, the appointment is in a half-hour!”
Practically trembling, Jocelyn slid her shoe off and placed her bare foot in her mother’s lap.
TO BE CONTINUED
“Mom, I’m doing what I always do…yes…it’s how I always do the red-eye flights, Mom! I wear my sweats and I try to make it feel as close as possible to my own bed….I know I might be tired but there’s a lot I want to do when I get home tomorrow! I’m only in town for a few days before I fly to New York to see my friends there! Yes, we’ll play tennis in the morning, and in the afternoon I’m going to see Sarah and Katherine, and then I’ll be home for dinner. I’m only home for a short time, Mom, I have lots to do! Oh, yes, pedicures on Saturday would be great!” On and on she went about her plans, sounding self-important and snooty.
Jocelyn barely acknowledged the cab driver as she quickly paid and hopped out. “Mom, I’m at the airport, I have to go. I’ll call you before we take off if I can. Bye.” She strutted swiftly through the crowds into the airport doors, her long legs and wide strides carrying her slim 5’9” frame through the corridors and to the security checkpoint, where she had to wait in line. Nervously checking her phone, eyeing the people around her, Jocelyn could barely stand still even though she had no reason to be antsy - she had plenty of time before her flight.
Jocelyn smiled at a few cute guys in line. She was used to the attention. At twenty-seven, Jocelyn was a knockout beauty. She had shoulder-length light brown hair that was wavy at the tips. Her eyes were hazel. Her body was perfect - she could have easily been a model. Even in her black sweatpants, grey hoodie and sneakers, Jocelyn was catching all the boys’ eyes.
She loved the attention and she loved to flirt. She hid her insecurity and anxiousness behind her bright smile and seductive-yet-innocent eyes. She tried to hide her self-centeredness, but that pretty much came through loud and clear.
Going through security, Jocelyn took off her sneakers. She was wearing white ankle socks underneath. She went through the scanner, after which a woman in uniform asked her to please step to the side. “The instruction was to empty all your pockets,” the agent said. The agent was African-American, 5’5”, attractive, in her late thirties, and clearly meant business.
“Oh…I…” Jocelyn stammered.
“I’m going to touch your leg now,” the woman informed her, per protocol, as she stroked with her whole palm three times down the pocket area of Jocelyn’s sweatpants. Jocelyn gasped and let out a surprised, “Oh!” and took a step backward.
“Miss, please stand still,” the woman said dryly, clearly annoyed.
“Sorry…it, um, tickled…” Jocelyn said sheepishly.
“I need to do it again, standing still please. First take everything out of that pocket.” Jocelyn reached in and pulled out a stick of gum. Then the woman felt along her upper thigh and hip area again, this time making circular pulsing motions. Jocelyn bit her lip, then broke into a giggle.
“Miss, please.”
Jocelyn giggled through the probing and groping of her upper thigh. “IneedtomoveI’mgonnaneedtomove” she said quickly and forcefully.
“We’re done there,” the agent said. Jocelyn breathed a sigh of relief. “Now your sweatshirt pocket. Please take everything out.”
Jocelyn couldn’t believe it. How could she have been so foolish? She removed a scrap of paper and a pen from her pocket in her abdomen area. The agent then said, “I”m going to touch your stomach now.”
“Um, well - ” Jocelyn started to try to say, but it was too late. The agent placed her hand inside Jocelyn’s sweatshirt pocket. Jocelyn doubled over in laughter. The woman stared at her angrily.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m just very ticklish,” Jocelyn said, sounding genuinely apologetic. “Let’s try that again,” said the agent.
She reached inside Jocelyn’s pocket again. Jocelyn winced, bit her lip, and squirmed. “Eeeyeeeyeeeyeeeeeeyeeeee!!” she squealed in a high-pitched voice, trying to do everything she could to keep from collapsing her upper body again. “Okay, good,” the agent side. “Other side now.” She reached into the left side. “Ohmygodohmygod….sorrysorrysorry, it tickles, it tickles, IT TICKLES!” Jocelyn said, seemingly shifting into a stream of consciousness mode to try to do whatever she could not to break down laughing. The probe on this side felt like it lasted forever. “I’mgonnalaughIneedtomoveIneedtomove, I’msorryI’msorry, IcanthelpitIcanthelpitICANTHELPIT!!!!” With that she dissolved into heavy laughter for the final five seconds that the agent was touching her stomach, then laughed for another five after she stopped, wiggling her body around wildly, as if trying to shake loose a demon.
The woman stared at Jocelyn like she was crazy. “You gonna be okay, girl?”
Jocelyn turned red. “Um, yes….I’m just…..super ticklish….”
“Well you’re lucky you weren’t hiding anything in your socks!” the agent cracked a smile for the first time.
Jocelyn got chills thinking about it. She quickly scurried away.
After clearing security and waiting at the gate, Jocelyn boarded the plane. She was looking forward to going home, back East. She didn’t see her family nearly enough now that she was living in California. Hearing Jocelyn’s voice on the phone, though, which everyone on the plane was experiencing now as she boarded, one could have easily pinned her as a valley girl, born and raised. “Mom, it’s like, my trip! I’m the one who’s coming all this way and never gets to see people back home!” she said as she sat down in her window seat and buckled her seatbelt. She talked for a few more minutes, then hung up, flustered. Minutes later, the plane took off.
Jocelyn had her whole red-eye routine down pat: her sweats, her eye mask, her travel pillow, putting the seat back as far as it could possibly go, and propping her feet up on her backpack underneath the seat in front of her to make herself as horizontal as possible. She had kicked off her sneakers, but her feet were still hot. She reached down and pulled off her socks. She felt a tinge of self-consciousness, quickly overcome by another inner voice that told her she can do whatever she wants. She propped her bare feet back up on her backpack and stretched her long legs as far as they would reach. The cabin lights were out. Most people around her were going to sleep in the darkness. Jocelyn closed her eyes.
Chrissy liked to drink on red-eye flights. It helped her relax. She usually couldn’t sleep anyway, but at least being tipsy made it all seem more tolerable. She sipped her tequila and restlessly flipped through the pages of Vanity Fair magazine in her seat. After a few drinks she began to feel quite relaxed and also turned on. Chrissy had always been quite comfortable with her own sexuality, but now that she was in her early thirties, she was even more so. She felt like she wanted to masturbate and loathed the idea that there was still over four hours left of flight time. She ran her hand through her long, straight brown hair. She closed her eyes, hiding their deep brown color. She stretched out - Chrissy, at 5’8”, had long legs, too. Then she pulled her legs back in and began restlessly slipping her perfect, size eight feet out of her mahogany flats. She had a feather tattooed on the top of her right foot.
Chrissy was startled to feel her bare foot bump up against something below her. She looked down, and to her surprise, saw ten toes below her, painted a dark purple. In fact, this woman’s legs were stretched so far out that her two feet were nearly fully under Chrissy’s legs below her. The feet were quite pretty, the toes longish to medium length, and probably about a size nine. The toenails were painted a very dark purple, almost black. She looked back, and saw the smoking hot, irritating-as-hell girl she had noticed earlier talking on the phone. The girl had an eye mask on and appeared to be sound asleep.
The tipsy wheels of Chrissy’s mind began to turn. She loved to tickle. It turned her on like nothing else - especially tickling women. What the hell, she thought, you only live once. She opened her bag and took out her own eye mask, a thick one which she’d brought from home, which had a velcro strap to fasten it shut. She carefully placed it around the girl’s ankles and secured it tightly, effectively tying her ankles together. She was pretty sure that without being able to move her legs individually, the girl wouldn’t be able to pull her feet away because of how they were position atop her big, bulky backpack. Chrissy noticed that the tops of the girls legs were pressed firmly against the bottom of the seat, tightly sandwiched between that and the backpack.
In a deep slumber, Jocelyn felt a light stroke on the bottoms of her feet. Her feet flinched. She smiled sleepily. Then she felt another stroke, this one a bit firmer. Still sleeping, she made a girly, giggly sound, “Eeeeeeheeheeee!” The tickling sensation continued. “Dad, come on,” she muttered. A few seconds later, she said, “Dad it really tickles!”
Chrissy smiled. This was a better start than she could have imagined. She liked picturing Jocelyn’s dad - whoever he was - tickling her feet to the point that she couldn’t stand it. “Dad!” she laughed out loud. “Go tickle Mally!” She laughed again. “Dad Mally’s more ticklish - stop!!!”
Suddenly, she woke up and pulled off her eye mask. She looked around the cabin. Everything was dark. She must have been dreaming. She put her mask back on and rested her head on her travel pillow. Then she felt fingers dancing along her left sole. She jerked her foot back but found she couldn’t move it. “Wait, what’s going on?” she said aloud. She pulled off her mask again. There was no one in the seat next to her. There was another girl in the aisle seat, sleeping. She felt the tickling again.
“Hey!” Jocelyn said nervously. She leaned forward to the seat in front of her, where she could see a young woman leaning downward. “What are you doing?” she whispered forcefully. No response. Then, the fingers started again, dancing on both soles. But this time the motion was continual, rather than swift starting and stopping. Jocelyn curled her toes and tried to pull away. She couldn’t. Her feet were stuck because of the way she’d positioned herself. “Are you -“ she started to ask nervously, but then broke into a giggle. She felt embarrassed. She looked around to see if anyone had heard her. The fingers continued to dance lightly along her soles and she started laughing more. “No really,” she said, trying to regain her composure. “Really, stop…”
But the tickling only grew more fervent. Strokes became swifter, firmer and remained continual. “No no no -“ Jocelyn said, now sounding panicked. “Seriously - stop! You’re tickling my - hahahaaaaaa - don’t tickle me!” She pulled her legs hard, but couldn’t move. She started reaching down to pull her back pack out from under the seat in front of her, but she couldn’t reach far enough down, because she couldn’t bend her legs.
The stroking became swifter and more relentless. Jocelyn didn’t want to laugh, but she couldn’t help it. She felt like laughing would make the woman think that she liked it. But she couldn’t stand it. She started laughing hard. She covered her face with her hands out of embarrassment. She didn’t want to wake anyone up. She didn’t want to make a scene. But it tickled so much.
Through her laughter, she continued to beg the mysterious woman in front of her, torturing her: “Are you crazy? Please!! Stop!! I’m going to - hahahahaHAAAAAAA - I’m going to wake everyone up from laughhhhhahahahahahahaahahahing!!!”
She looked around again, hoping for a savior. Should she wake the girl in the aisle seat and ask for help? Something about it felt too embarrassing to Jocelyn. She could be fiercely competitive with other women, and this other woman was pretty. There was something about the idea of her knowing how ticklish and helpless Jocelyn was that Jocelyn hated. She wished it was a guy. Then she’d wake him. She could be his damsel in distress. Her prince charming could save her. She wouldn’t mind him knowing how ticklish she was - he’d probably find it cute.
But then Chrissy started tickling right underneath Jocelyn’s toes. “Ohhhhh noooooooo” Jocelyn bellowed, descending into deep, low laughter. “Nooo - ho - hoooooooooooo!!!” She thrashed in her seat, trying to pull away. Her violent flailing caused her back pack to move slightly and for a second Jocelyn thought she could break free. But then she felt the tight clasp of the woman’s legs on her ankles. She was even more immobilized than before. And the woman was tickling her toes.
She tried again to negotiate but couldn’t get many words out. “I don’t know what you - HAHAHAHAHAH PLEASE - I’ll do anything - just - HAHAHAHA - seriously, seriously - HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!! STOP!!! I know this might be just fun and games to you but - I’m REALLY TICKLISH!!!”
Chrissy was wondering if she was going to have the will power to be able to keep both hands on Jocelyn’s feet or if she was going to need to start touching herself.
Jocelyn remembered how she’d taken her socks off and wished to God that she’d kept them on. Chrissy picked up the intensity yet another notch, alternating between fervent tickling under and around Jocelyn’s toes and feverish spidering all over her arches and balls of her feet.
Jocelyn’s laughter became hysterical. She needed to find a way to get it to stop. She tried begging one more time. “You don’t understand - HAHAHAHAHA - I know I’m laughing but it’s NOT FUNNY - my feet are - HAHAHAH - REALLY REALLY TICKLISH!!!”
Jocelyn felt extremely shy and embarrassed about pressing the call button and being found by a flight attendant in this predicament, but she didn’t feel like she had a choice. She felt like she was about to lose her mind. She pressed the button.
When Chrissy saw the flight attendant coming, she stopped and pretended to sleep.
“Can I help you, Miss?” the flight attendant asked.
“Um…yes, I’m sorry to bother you, but,” Chrissy said nervously, “the woman in front of me is tickling my feet and she won’t stop.”
The flight attendant raised an eyebrow. She looked at Chrissy, who appeared to be sound asleep. “Sweetheart, I think you’re just having a bad dream. Go back to sleep, honey.” She walked away.
Jocelyn was indignant for a second, but then was flooded with panic. The one hope she’d had for stopping the tickling - if she’d absolutely needed to - was gone. She looked around her again. Everyone was asleep.
Chrissy grinned devilishly, then reached into her toiletries bag to see what toys she had. She pulled out a Q-tip, leaned downward, and began running the Q-tip in between Jocelyn’s toes.
Jocelyn’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She could tell the woman wasn’t touching her toes with her fingers but she wasn’t sure what it was. The sensation was lighter, somewhat less intense, and yet at the same time, maddening. Jocelyn was somewhat grateful for the reprieve, but in the moments that the Q-tip slid just past the right spot, her jaw would drop and she’d thrust her upper body sideways in some feeble attempt to withstand the jolts of tickles. For the most part, though, she managed not to laugh as the Q-tip slid between her toes. Chrissy missed her laughter, though, and began to move the Q-tip slowly in the area right beneath her toes and up and down the bottom of her toes.
“Heeeee-eyy-eyyyyy!!!” Jocelyn exclaimed as the new movements started. “Stop!” she whispered firmly and assertively, before dissolving into girlish giggles. “Heee hee heeeeeee!!!! What IS that? What are you - heeeeeeeheheheheheeeeee - touching my foo-oooooot with??!”
Chrissy began to wiggle the Q-tip underneath Jocelyn’s toes more vigorously. Jocelyn’s toes wiggled wildly and her laughter became more steady. “Okay okay!!!” she laughed, “I - hahahha - I really can’t - hahahah - I can’t stand it there - HAHAHAHAAAAAA!!! I can’t stand it under my toes!!!”
For several minutes Chrissy danced the Q-tip in this delicious area, delighting in Jocelyn’s reaction. She would tease her by stopping for a few seconds, making Jocelyn think she might actually finally be getting bored and stopping. Jocelyn would sigh, as if she were relieved and finally calming down, and then the tickling would suddenly start again and Jocelyn would burst into laughter.
During one of the pauses, Jocelyn heard Chrissy shuffling through her bag. Then she heard a buzzing, vibrating sound. She furrowed her brow in fear and concern. Chrissy smiled. Her battery-powered electric toothbrush still had plenty of charge left.
The toothbrush part of the experience was largely a blur for Jocelyn. When she told her friends about the incident afterward - and she only told a few trusted friends, as she was incredibly humiliated and shocked by the whole thing - she couldn’t remember much about the toothbrush part. She remembered thinking it was a toothbrush but never being sure, and being utterly amazed at how much it tickled. The toes were the worst, by far - she remembered wanting to beg the woman to move to a different spot on her foot, but being unable to speak because of how hard she was laughing. When the woman did move to a different spot, the sensation hardly diminished. She was unable to say how long the woman used the toothbrush for - it seemed like an eternity.
In some ways the toothbrush part was an erotic blur for Chrissy, too. When she’d think about the incident while pleasuring herself in the days to come, she remembered loving how Jocelyn’s laughter went completely silent when she used the toothbrush underneath her toes. She remember Jocelyn’s desperate begging through her laughter and how the things she was saying brought Chrissy closer and closer to coming:
“I’ve - HAHAHAHAHAHA - never been tickled like this….”
“I’m TOO TICKLISH TO - EEEHHEHEHEHEEEHHAAAAAA - TAKE ANYMORE!!!”
And the delirious, rambling begging: “Pleaassssee….I really don’t think you - HAHAAAAAAOOOOOOOOO - understand…..this isn’t - HAHEEEEEEEEEEHEHEHEEE - this isn’t FUN FOR ME…..I’m REALLY, REALLY TICKLISH - I can’t - HAHAHA - I’m too ticklish for - HAHAHAHAHA”
Chrissy thought, “If she says the word ticklish one more time I’m going to come.”
Then: “HAHAPLLEEEASSE it’s not a game to me….hahahahaha……I know some people might think it’s fun but - HAHAHAHAHAHA - I’m probably…..more ticklish…..than most people!!! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!!!!” Jocelyn grabbed Chrissy’s seat and shook it violently to try to get her to stop. It only made the orgasm all the more pleasurable.
After landing, Chrissy darted off the plane without as much of a glance back. Jocelyn never saw her tormentor’s face.
A few days into her visit home, when her mom asked if she was ready for the pedicure appointment they had planned together, Jocelyn enthusiastically responded yes by habit, then quickly tried to backtrack. “Oh, well, um….actually….I’m, uh, I’m not sure I….”
“What? Jocelyn! You’re always begging me to take you to get a pedicure!” her mom exclaimed in disbelief.
“You know, Mom, I don’t know….I think I’m just not in the mood….”
“Not in the mood? I don’t believe it for a second!”
“Well, last time…it just tickled so much…I’m just not sure I’m up for it….”
“Yes of course it did! It always tickles you and you laugh the whole time! That’s never stopped you before!” Her mom seemingly loved to comment on how ticklish her daughters were during their pedicures.
“Yeah….I…..” Jocelyn didn’t know how to explain to her mom that she simply couldn’t imagine enduring helplessly having the bottoms of her feet scrubbed on this particular day. She got nervous, worrying her mom would sense something was wrong. “I just….I don’t know, I think my feet might be getting more ticklish or something…”
“MORE ticklish?” her mom rolled her eyes. “Is that even possible for you? You and Mally are already the most ticklish girls at the nail salon every time….”
“Yeah, I don’t know….it’s just a feeling I have…..I could barely stand it last time….”
The doorbell rang. It was Jocelyn’s older sister, Mallory. The girls looked like twins. Mallory was three years older and her hair was a little straighter, while Jocelyn’s was slightly wavier. Other than that, from head to toe, they were nearly iden-tickle.
“Get this,” their mom said to Mally. “Your sister doesn’t want to get a pedicure because she thinks her feet are becoming even more ticklish…..”
“Oh?” Mallory was surprised, and didn’t know what to make of it. She looked quizzically at her sister.
Jocelyn, who hadn’t told Mallory about the incident, looked down nervously and said, “Yeah, I don’t know, it was practically torture last time….just not sure I want to put myself through that again….”
“But Joce, you love pedicures…” Mallory said.
“You of all people should understand, Mally….it’s not like they’re easy for you to take, either…”
Mallory blushed. “Yeah, it’s true. But I’m usually the one who can’t keep still…the one Mom can’t believe could possibly be so ticklish…”
“She’s right,” their mom said. “She’s always been the one making the biggest scene at the salon….I always feel like I have to tell everyone how ticklish you are so they don’t think we’re all crazy!”
“But remember last time?” Jocelyn said. “I was the one who could barely keep it together.”
“Keep it together?!” their mom said. “You were going out of your mind!”
“My point exactly!”
“Let’s sit down and you give me your foot, Jocelyn. I want to see if you’re really more ticklish than you used to be.”
“Mom, no…”
“Yes, cmon! If I’m going to cancel your pedicure appointment, I want it to at least be for a good reason. I want to see for myself.” She took Jocelyn’s arm and practically dragged her over to the couch.
“Mom, I….”
“Cmon Jocelyn, shush! Put your foot in my lap.”
Jocelyn was wearing ballet flats without socks. She slid her right foot out, then nervously slid it back in. She repeated this three or four times, unable to bring herself to take her shoe off and give her mother her bare foot.
“Do Mally and I have to pull it off for you? Come on, Jocelyn, the appointment is in a half-hour!”
Practically trembling, Jocelyn slid her shoe off and placed her bare foot in her mother’s lap.
TO BE CONTINUED
Nice work.... enjoy your stories.
Looking forward to part two. 
